3 posts tagged “weddings - weddings everywhere”

The first thing I did on the day of the wedding was leap out of bed and check the weather.  I always do that when I'm part of an outside event, which is stupid, because no matter how quickly I check it, I won't be able to change or control it.  It's just a silly habit.  Much to the relief of all eighty guests and the bride and groom, though, the weather was surpassingly gorgeous.  Incidentally, how kick ass is it that so many people came to LB's destination wedding??  I don't think I could round up eighty guests if they all lived within five miles of the church!

Since we got up around noon, it was already past time to hit the water when we made it down to the beach.  We were fortunate enough to snag two chairs (the competition was vicious for those suckers) right near K, and settled in happily to sip froo froo drinks and get some color.  I got a little too much color, and ended up lobster red on my chest and shoulders.  I just got cocky.  I was thinking that being so much farther away from the equator meant that the tropical sun had nothing new to teach me.  I thought, "I got this!"  Well, the tropical sun certainly did have new things to teach me, and it schooled my ass good.  I was frizzled to a crisp.  Talk about being hot for teacher, hee!  The only thing that made me feel even a little bit better was that eveyone else was similarly affected.  Still, it was a jackass move.  I should have known better than anyone else what burn your skin o'clock would do to me; after all, I was the one with the island experience.

Our late start meant that there wasn't much free time before we had to head back up to the room and get ready for the wedding.  After rushing around like loons, PIC and I glided serenely back down to the gazebo on the beach where it was going to be held.  I know I raved before about how gorgeous the resort was, but it bears repating.  It was so goddamn picturesque, and the gazebo was one of the prettiest spots on the gounds.  They had it decorated just beautifully; it was really lovely.  Everyone was so excited, snapping pictures and waiting anxiously for the bride to appear.  I have to say that this groom looked a lot more relaxed than the last one.  When LB finally arrived, it became clear that her guests weren't the only ones who were thrilled about the wedding; she had picked up an entourage of  bathingsuited hangers on.  D noticed that one guy in a speedo actually sprinted over so that he would be in time to take a primo shot of the bride.  It was crazy - a total paparazzi move.  I was very glad that by the time the father of the bride was giving her away all the uninvited gawkers had lost interst and sauntered away.  The acutal wedding ceremony was sweet and funny; it was wonderful to see my Philly girl so happy.

After the ceremony was over, Dominican Lou (the official wedding photog) herded the newly wedded couple and all their guests down to the water's edge for lots and lots of pictures.  There was a stray dog kind of hanging around on the fringes of the party, and jumping into the picture from time to time.  Some thought it funny, but I wanted to kick that mangy thing into the next country.  I know that's not very nice of me, but all I could think about was how I would feel if it were my wedding.  He eventually scrammed, with much encouragement to do so, and all the pics that needed to be taken, were.

I was surprised to see that the reception was going to be on the beach, thinking that somthing like that would be messy and difficult.  It wasn't like that at all.  The tables were set up beautifully and everything was just really well done.  It was an inspired choice.  Once we (there were about nine of us who palled around all weekend) got settled at a table, it was time to have a drink!  D and I had a master plan to drink only beer and keep things in control, but that went all to hell when we discovered that no such animal existed at this wedding.  So, booze it was.  I made the mistake of being nice to the bartenders, and they, in return, poured my drinks generously.  I appreciated the sentiment, but the results were not pretty.

Unwisely, I chose to drink rum, which for some reason always sneaks up on me.  You know, the kind of drunk that happenes when there's no stage between completely sober and trainwreck.  It's much, much harder to regulate your drinking when you don't have buzzy warning signals to gauge by.  Sigh.  Anyway, we were having a good old time, eating delicious food, drinking adult beverages and dancing strange line dances.  The dancing was my fave part, though having never danced on sand before, I hadn't known what a good workout it was.  Once we attacked the non-English speaking DJ with our iPods, people really got up in groups and started to move.  LB was holding court in the center of it all, and eveyone was having a blast.  I was still fine at this point, and pretty much for all of the dancing.  It was when people kind of spread out onto the beach that I lost it.  The limbo is the last thing I remember.  If you look at pictures of me after that, you can see that nobody is home in my eyes.  That's never good.

I was able to piece the rest of the night together from both my pictures and witness accounts.  Apparently the dog came back to a much warmer reception, the boys all jumped in the water, and my partner in crime wandered off to follow her own agenda.  I drifted off myself, and Annflan had to have a couple of the boys to go find me in the lobby, where I was doing a perfect impression of a lost lamb (and probably about as smart as one).  She then took me up to the room, where instead of going to bed, I decided to change and come back out.  Annflan washed her hands of me, and I went right back to the beach so that I could pass out in the "wounded solidiers" area.  Thankfully for my pride, I was not even close to the only one in bad shape.

I probably was the only one who had to be tucked in twice, though.  Just by sheer luck, K and E found me on a beach chair passed the fuck out (shocker), and in a completely different outfit than anyone had seen me wearing at the wedding.  They were puzzled by this, but decided that no matter what had happened, I really needed to go to bed.  Thanks for your help, ladies.  Like my angels of mercy, I was unsure of my outfit when I woke up in the morning, and also of why I was wearing it to sleep in.  Deciding that I would find out later, I changed into my jammies and passed back out. 

Despite my spectacular descent into sheer drunkinness,it was a practically perfect night.  I hope the bride had as much fun as all of her guests did.  Congrats, baby!

Weddings abound these days, and I am surfing the bridal wave with glee and drunkenness.  Come to think of it, that's how I pretty much do everything.  Hmm.  Slightly disturbing, that.  Yeah, so, anyway, this past weekend was my friend D's wedding to the infamous M, about whom we all heard so much the fall before last.  If you'd have asked me then if these two were destined for the alter, I would have laughed in your face.  Much to my surprise, though, here we find ourselves.  Luckily, I have been proven wrong, and they fit better that I could have thought possible.  I've never seen a couple so smitten with each other.  Just goes to show what I know about relationships, eh?  Sometimes I wonder why I'm single, and sometimes I have no doubt as to why.  Ha!

The day of the wedding dawned just perfectly, sunny and warm.  It was the perfect spring day to get married, and I was so happy for D.  After a bunch of us girls gathered in the parking lot, we pounded some beers!  No, just kidding, but the little grouping had a distinctly 'tailgaiting' feel to it.  Maybe I'm just homesick for football season.  Soooo, after pounding absolutely no beers, we proceeded to act like we were stone drunk once seated prettily in the church.  Everyone else was quiet and properly reverant, and we were shrieking like a pack of hyenas.  What can I say?  We find each other funny and don't get to see one another nearly often enough.  Conversation topics included: my boobs and God's reaction to them sticking out in church, the flat screen TV mounted at the back of the church near the ceiling, the possible purpose of the TV (we decided it beams God's message straight from heaven), M's glorious pregnancy and "supposed" husband, the narcoleptic organ player, that girl's dress which was totally fucking fabulous, he of the rapper name's very casual attire, and how nervous the groom looked.  It was a rousing good time; the best time of the whole day, funnily enough.  I know I go on ad nauseum, but I really love my friends, and it's hard to see them as little as I do.  Moving on.

If the groom looked nervous, it was nothing to how D looked when she stepped out onto the aisle.  We were stunned, because she's not normally a nervy person at all, but I guess a wedding can bring that out in you.  Crazy C actually saw the preist look right at D and say, "Breathe."  Luckily for bundle of nerves, the wedding was the quickest one ever put down in the history books.  It was like bing, bang, boom, you're married.  Surprisingly spicy kiss to seal the deal, and on to the reception!!

And, oh, we hit that place like a mother fucking hurricaine.  Having already put down a couple of drinks at the hotel bar before our arrival, we were ready to get our reception on.  Every one of us (except M, hahahaha, loser) arrowed straight for the bar.  There was drinking and smoking of many ciggys and general merriness going on.  Once again we proved to be the loud table, but I bet we also had the most fun.  It was nice to see D so happy.  I think that the role of wife will suit her right down to the ground.  We actually got to hang out with her quite a bit more than I thought we would, which was awesome.  After shots and before dancing, I also got to know M's new and actual husband, who seems to genuinely care about M and fit her really well.  I have to admit my relief; it's not often a match made in heaven when you've only known your groom for three months before the wedding.  Still, this one looks like it will turn out beautifully.  We can only hope.

The drinking continued until we were all pretty much obliterated, and so, of course, we headed back to the hotel bar to drink some more.  Here my memory gets a little (okay completely blacked out), um, fuzzy.  Apparently K fell down and passed out early while I contented myself with passing out briefly at the bar.  G says I did a slow swan dive towards the table and didn't move until her date roused me to go to my room.  I felt kind of embarassed about this, considereing how little time I do get to spend with them, but G was telling me that everyone was pretty shitfaced; no worries.  Nobody is real clear on what happened st the bar, so at least I didn't miss anything.  You know, (oh so loyal) band of readers, how I hate to miss stuff.

I woke up the next day very hungover and slightly delirious from lack of sleep.  I don't know what happened when I left Kwaj, but these nights in the States are killin' me!  It's either the drop in humidity, or I'm getting old.  I'm pushing for the environmental factor, at least until there is no doubt or alternative.

Have fun on your honeymoon, darling, we certainly had fun at your wedding. 

I thought that my cousin’s wedding was going to be fun and crazy and funny. I was completely right. What I didn’t know was the magnitude of the craziness. Let me back up to earlier in the day. First of all, it’s friggin’ freeeeezing. I hate it when that happens and you have no winter clothes. So annoying. Anyways, I went to the salon to get my hair done. I normally wouldn’t be so extravagant, well, not very usually, but my hair right now is a hot mess. I’m trying to grow out the "fuck you exbf" bleached blonde hair, and it’s not going so well. That is, I am growing it out, but it looks totally trailer. Think of the classic two toned blonde that doesn’t look good on anybody. Luckily the red part is long enough to pop when I put it up, so that’s what I resolved to do. It totally turned out great (I’ll post a pic of my Audrey Hepburn hair), but I almost fainted when I found out how much it was costing me! Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I have been away from the States too long. Every time I have to buy anything, I turn into one of those "back in my day" type people who really stick in your craw. I must get home before Kwaj ruins me for the outside world!!!

Back to the subject at hand, though. After the most expensive hair in the world was done, I hustled my bustle down south to return my rental car. I made it with minutes to spare, thanks to my mach one driving on the highway. I apparently have no trouble adjusting to THE NEED FOR SPEED in the States. When I got dropped off at my uncle’s house, I entered mass hysteria. Bridesmaids were scurrying about with all haste, trailing tulle behind them. My cousin, otherwise known as The Bride, was actually and oasis of calm. She floated around munching on her chicken sandwich and giving suggestions to everyone else to help ease their respective crises. I hope I can capture that grace on my wedding day, whenever that may be. The ceremony at the church was mercifully brief, as was the picture taking that came later. There were actually a lot of family photos taken, which I think is a sweet idea. I hope I look good in them. I don’t care how anyone else looks. Heh.

When we got to the country club where the reception was being held, waiters were practically falling all over themselves to get us drinks. When I tried to pay them, they informed me that it was an open bar. Have I told you how much I love my uncle? A lot. Especially after open bar Saturday. Mmmm, open bar. I didn’t fully grasp how awesome this concept was on my first drink. I ordered, typically, a Miller Lite, and it was going down plenty easy. Waiters were circulating with yummy tidbits, and all was right with my world. It was only when I went to the bar to order my second drink, though, that life got just that much better. Some woman swung a gay appletini under my nose as she turned away from the bar. Bing! A light went off above my well coiffured head. Martinis!!!! Free martinis!!!!!! Normally I stay away from these spilly vats of alcohol because of their cost, and frankly because they tend to put me under the table pretty quickly. Armed with an open bar and gobbled down savories, though, a dirty martini or five seemed just the thing.

Oh, and they were. Thank you, Kwaj liver. Thank you, Kwaj alcohol tolerance. I don’t know if it was the martinis or the people, but we laughed and laughed and laughed at my table. I suspect the conviviality was probably a combination of both booze and company. I know that people tend to complain about their families, but I’m not one of them. In fact, the most difficult person in my family is probably me! Bitchy, witchy me. Everyone still adores me, natch. Once dinner was over the real fun began. I forgot how funny it is to watch old people dance. Seriously. Until you’ve seen a bunch of septuagenarians breaking it down to ‘Mambo Number 5’ you haven’t lived. I mean, they were getting funky! My cousin and her new husband were so cute when they did their dance, too. They learned the foxtrot, and proceeded to awkwardly, boxily move around the floor. The dancing was horrible on that one, but the sentiment behind it couldn’t have been more genuine. It’s the combination of the ridiculous (septuagenarians) to the sublime (fox-trotting cousins) that makes weddings so fun. More dancing and hilarity followed, although nobody fell down or threw up or anything really awesome like that. We all ended up at the hotel bar where everyone in the wedding party and close family burnt the shit out of their mouths on crappy Domino’s pizza. Dumb asses. What can I say? At this point we could have eaten poop on a stick and not noticed. Thank you, open bar. Thank you, Uncle D. Things rapidly broke up after that, and everyone went to sleep (aka passed out).

I could have done without the scorched tongue, but I wouldn’t have missed this night for anything. Let me say it again; I love my family. And martinis.