Well I’m back from Alabama, and the potentially alcohol free wedding weekend, and wondering when I had the time to get this sick.
I
Hate
Pollen
(Just so you know)
I tried to come into work on Monday — after waiting at the Dr.’s office for something to make the nasties go away — but no dice. I barely made it back home after 2 hours of staring and drooling at my computer screen, then packing said computer and accompanying files into a bag to take home with me.
I think that the lack of food — because everyone on Alabama eats wheat and gluten at every meal, for practically the whole meal — Stress — the Mother-of-the-GROOM-Zilla — and way too much alcohol — what else are you going to do in a dry town, other than illegally bring alcohol up to the hotel and have a party — and little to no sleep — I’m afraid to find out what I looked like in the wedding pictures — all might have contributed to my current state of “Fuck you, ass bag, and stop talking to me, or I’ll sneeze on you” all around nastiness.
Despite the crazy mother in law, the obvious tension between the families, little twitterings of disapproval from both families about the marriage itself, the normal crazy debauchery that pervades wedding parties, and a very hung over ME, the wedding went off with only a few minor glitches. The bride was absolutely beautiful, and the groom had to stop and clear his throat a few times mid ceremony so that he could answer the minister. Kid Almost got me going on that one. So I stared at the bride’s lacing — which probably seemed like I was staring at her ass the whole time — to keep from blubbering myself.
All in all, I’d say it was another perfect day,
That I brought beer too.
I imagine it’s one of those events that make you want to die while there, but as soon as you’re back home, soaking in a bathtub full of booze, it’s a great story.
And getting ready to sob at weddings? Clearly, you’re not the girl for me. That girl would get the dry heaves.
Sob? I didn’t say Sob… I said blubbering. And by blubbering, I meant snorting loudly at a man in full dress Marine Corps uniform snuffling over his wedding vows.
Do I still count? Hello? Damnit! You already broke up with me, didn’t you?
Ha! Okay, if you had the cojones to mock a man with easy access to a weapon and very likely emotional problems, you’re all right by me.
Unless you literally have those cojones, because that’s not my kind of party.
Well, he did use his sword to cut the cake, so its not like he wasn’t ready to use it.
And what’s with this always blowing straight and curved with me? Not into cojones? HA! Tell ‘Steve,’ or whatever his name is, that.
I get to drive for 3 hours to get to a wedding tomorrow. No one from my Pride will come with me. I get to sit there and listen to my dad complain about everything. Thank god I know they have alot of booze. HA! Maybe I will make my dad drive me home. That’ll show him.
At a wedding? All alone? With you’re dad?
Yeah. That’ll show him. What, exactly, I’m not sure. But it will.
If there’s one event you don’t want to be attending in a dry town I’d say a wedding is IT. You NEED alcohol just to get through it intact and without ending up in jail! Weddings are nuts, that is all.
Ah, but that’s when my excellent sense of direction comes in handy. And by direction I mean, ability to sense alcohol within a 10 mile radius.
Needless to say, the bride’s “people’s” innocently thought that the wedding was BYOB. (And accidentally spiked the punch.)