So I did the wedding thing this last weekend.
I was a bridesmaid. I wore a floor length royal blue dress. The wedding was fantastic. I’m friends with both bride and groom, and so is my husband, who was a groomsman. We had such a good weekend. I loved every minute of it. I stressed out a bunch, because that’s just who I am, and I have a hard time letting go, but eventually, I just did and it was so fantastic. I got along with all the bridesmaids and all the groomsmen. I definitely felt like the youngest person there, and I was definitely the youngest adult there. I made people laugh. I howled with laughter every time there was a gathering this weekend. I spent hours naked in bed with my husband. I ate some fantastic food. At the wedding, the bride and groom asked me and mike to come sit with them, which made my night just that much fantastic-er. I had several perfect dances with my husband. I found a beer that was actually drinkable.
I calmed down the bride. I got to hold her dress going up the stairs. I cackled with the groom about damn near everything. I almost tripped over my own dress about 15 times. I got choked up when the bride and groom said their vows. I made some new friends. I did the Macarena. I got very very very tired. I straightened my hair. I got a little annoyed with my husband. I missed my kids. I painted my nails to perfection. I forgot my cowboy boots. I cried on the drive home, not just because my husband pissed me off, but because I was sad to leave. I love the bride and groom. Thinking about this weekend makes me very happy and sad because it was a fantastic weekend and I’m going to miss it. Mostly I’m just glad the bride and groom are moving to my town in about two weeks or so.
I hate being without either of them for too long. They make me smile.