Good
It’s been a good weekend
Friday: Rehearsal dinner, smack talk, & doing a ho’ train dance down the aisle of St. Martin’s Cathedral. Then chilling with a few folks at a salsa disco gay bar in Mountain View. I shook my ass with a darling man who’s got the face of Ricky Martin. He was kind enough to lick my ear. Oh, how the gay men tease me so.
Saturday: Wedding stuff. Big crazy wonderful congrats to Andrew & Janice.
Highlights: The ring bearer & flower girl dawdling down the aisle while “Here comes the bride” starts tearing in. The flower girl, who’s exuberance to toss rose petals could barely be contained the day before, was hesitant and shy beyond measure for the big day. She dropped two petals, and her brother, the ring bearer being so terrified that they were going to get in trouble, stopped in the middle of the aisle and picked up the petals to put them back in the basket.
Father Wafik, the famous priest who nearly put me in jail last year for grand theft auto, came in from Rome to perform the ceremony. Midway through his homily, he brought out a stack of papers an inch thick, to read excerpts of emails sent to him by the bride and groom, about their love for each other.
The reading of the emails, and the vows, both made my eyes just a wee bit moist.
The brother & sister-in-law of the bride almost missed their cue to bring the bread & wine for transubstantiation during the service. (yes, we’re catholic…it was a full mass)
My directional disfunctiuality was in full force, because when we processed down the aisle following the ceremony, I followed the best man & maid of honor when they took a detour. Which was.. apparently met with much confusion by the photographers.
The reception was sweet & quite fulfilling and it was brilliant to observe the following scenario.
D. the 19 year old sister of the groom in Chinese to her father “Daddy..where’s the hennesy, I want to drink some of that and I know you bought a truckload”
Father: the stodgy Cantonese dignified gentleman “It’s gone. I have to go talk to big uncle now” (as he discretely grabs both the bottle of wine and champaign that was otherwise right in front of his daughter’s grasp and immediately zips off…he looked, only for 2 seconds, like he was considering putting his daughter in rehab)
Moi: “Hey…he just took the booze”
D: “…”
Moi: “Oh, hey, (chuckle) never mind”
This was followed up by catching a wee bit of bonfire action over at Heather’s Bday shindig.
Coming straight from the wedding, I was still wearing my bridesmaid dress and three inch platinum heels. So what do I do? I grab my jeans and turtleneck and get in the back seat of my car while in the parking lot. Meanwhile, cars are parking on all sides of me. I strip and various headlights highlight me stripping down in my backseat. This is only further exasperated by the fact that it must have been a Pinapple bonfire going on that same night as college kids in greek sweats kept walking by my car. I swear, the last time I was half naked in the back seat of my car was *YEARS* ago. It’s weird to repeat that experience. And be alone. I think it’s somehow more disturbing that way. Then I teetered in my heels down to the beach, chilled with a few folks, wished Heather a happy one, and scampered off for Cowboy Bebop, hugs, & chilling with Ernie. We both needed a little bit of hugs and comfort.
Sunday: Sleeping in. And then sleeping in some more. Then sleepign in a little bit after that. Cleaning up. The impending date with Mr. B. was canceled *again*. Me thinks I give up on that one. Bad timing is one thing, but this is fricking ridiculous. Instead, my evening was capped off by catching Spiderman with some other pals after eating loads of sushi. Not a bad weekend. I have clean laundry and a clear conscience. Not bad indeed.
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