This weekend I flew to Mexico.
I mean New Mexico.
It's all the same, right?
My college roommate and best friend, Courtney, was sealing the knot. Or so she said. I refused to believe she would actually get married until I saw it for myself.
And then I did see it.
And now she's married.
And on her honeymoon.
Anyone else jealous?
The weekend was more than fabulous. I left Hubs at home, not by my own volition, but because he had commitments he couldn't get out of. So I kissed him goodbye at 4 am on Friday morning (Yes! 4 am!) and was off for Mexico. Or New Mexico. Whatevs.
The first main event was the bachelorette party. We held it in as public a place as possible so that Courtney could get real embarrassed when we made her open the lingerie and display it for all to see. We all told Courtney why we loved her and gave her some advice in the marital ways. I told her to always carry a knife on you because you never know when your husband is going to turn on you.
The best part of the wedding may have been getting together with all my college best friends again. I haven't seen Sally (peach sweater) since my own wedding a year and a half ago. We haven't all been together since Sally's wedding two and a half years ago. Naturally this makes us all wonder how in the world so much time has passed and has it really been three years since college and when did we all grow up?
Saturday morning brought the temple festivities. The temple ceremony was absolutely beautiful and reminded me of all the reasons marriage rocks and how grateful I am to be with Hubs forever. Maybe one day I'll write more about Mormon marriage temple ceremonies, but for now it sufficieth to say that they are pretty dang awesome.
After that it was back to the house to get everything ready for the reception that night. Courtney's family is so ambitious. And talented. And completely out of their minds. They did everything for the wedding themselves. And I mean everything. From sewing table runners to designing and making the dress to the photography to the flowers to the mounds of food, there wasn't a thing they left to the "professionals". What this really meant was that for anyone semi close to Courtney, we would be spending the hours of 2-7 pm slaving away like some kind of modern form of indentured servants. I considered complaining, but I was with my best friends in the whole world and the weather was absolutely perfect and Courtney was happier than I'd ever seen her. Who can complain under circumstances like that?
And then, it was reception time. I spent most of the time following Vanessa and Sally around and trying to get them to laugh at my mediocre jokes. The rest of the time was spent eating. There was a ten minute period of time there where we hunted Courtney down and made her take a bunch of obnoxious photos with us, just like the good old days. Oh, and we also had to patrol the smore station because there were little rugrats burning up marshmallows and launching them into the garbage cans. I had just been thinking what an awesome idea that was when Vanessa started yelling at the kids. She told them to cut it out and they were going to burn the whole reception down and didn't they know anything?!? She has a child so she knows that kids aren't supposed to be doing that kind of crap. One day I'll have my own kid and I'll also know that throwing flaming marshmallows isn't okay but for now I am totally ignorant in the ways of marshmallow burning and throwing.
And that's it, folks!
Oh... we might have found a couple of minutes to decorate the car.
Isn't Courtney so lucky to have us?!?
On a total side note, I puked on the airplane on the way home. It was stormy and there was turbulence the whole way. Bad turbulence. I just leaned over and barfed right into that little barf bag of mine. The girl sitting next to me shot me some nasty looks as if she was positively disgusted by me. Now, I know that no one wants to sit next to a barfer on a plane, but is it too much to ask for an "Are you okay?" or "Do you need anything?" instead of a dirty sneer? Please, woman, I didn't choose to throw up. If I did choose it I would have done it all over you.
And that's all, folks!