Watching People Get Married and Drunk

I’m sure Stephanie will post her review of Dustin and Niki’s wedding in her usual style (which I love because I heart lists) eventually, so I’ll try not to subconsciously steal it away.  But I did want to say that even though I was seated at the bad kids’ table and was finally at a wedding where Graham knew more people than I did, I had an excellent time.  Turns out those tiny glasses of beer make a lot of sense when you still want to be conscious at 1:30am.  And also don’t want to be the reason the police were called to the hotel.  To possibly evict a woman in a bridal gown.  Who was actually remarkably composed, considering the situation.

Again, I’m not trying to steal the list, so I’ll limit myself to posting a few snippets of conversation from yesterday.  Uh, well…  Shit.  Now that I think about it, there are only a couple, and posting them out of context wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense.  It sort of sucks when you can’t remember anything specific, but when you remember it’s because you made silly jokes all night and allowed Luke to kidnap you to the motherfucking dance floor while Courtney laughed her fool ass off and you figured “fuck it” so you both spazzed out, then, maybe, I don’t know, it’s okay to forget.

(It would have been better if there had been a Puglisi in attendance.  Just sayin’.)

I have to get ready to go back to that hotel bar in a second.  It was pretty lame and bland, but they have huge TVs and are playing the World Cup final on all of them.  Yeah it would be cooler to head to the Amsterdam or Scottish Arms, but paying $150 to reserve a barstool?  Someone’s getting a cocktail skewer in the eye.

GO SPAIN!

(Gerard Piqué looks a lot like my boyfriend.  Just sayin’.)

 

ed. to add — I forgot about the Nipple Dress!  I originally wore this ill-sitting sundress that faded so badly in the wash it was like wearing a tablecloth to give birth on the prairie.  I couldn’t stand the thought of going to the reception in this thing, so I went to a few vintage stores on Cherokee and found a perfect little black dress.  And, um, cough, so sizes were different back then, which means that what they considered to be a size 16 then is more like a size 10 by today’s standards.  Also, because our bras are different (I guess), the dress pleated in two little spots on my chest, making it look like I was in a constant state of arousal/chill.  No pictures.  Perverts.

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About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
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