Witness
April 29th, 2007
If anyone sees a big red wagon with the words “Weight Watchers” emblazoned on the side of it, will you kindly point me to it? Because it’s bogglingly apparent after this weekend’s debauchery that I am no longer on it, and in fact, have strayed so far in a few short days that I’ll be shocked if I can even FIND it again, but I will, oh, I will! I will also cut myself some slack, because if there’s ever a time where fried chicken on a stick is appropriate, it’s when it’s medically necessary to soak up the gallons and gallons of gin consumed. (1,354,678 Flex PointsTM)
I’m hungover, is what I’m saying, and given that I rarely drink to excess, it was quite a momentous occasion. But: wedding! I went to a wedding this weekend – and not just any wedding, but the wedding of one of my very best friends. It’s kind of a big deal to see people you love get married, and while I was teetering in my very high heels at the altar, it occurred to me again that this was why Adam insisted that we have a wedding for our friends and family. Seeing someone you love go through that kind of (gag, but there is no other term) rite of passage is really exciting, and of course, Eve’s wedding didn’t disappoint.
I was the witness, and really, all that means is that I was the person designated to sign the marriage license to prove that two people actually got married that day. The concept seems sort of silly to me, given that there were also 150 other people there, and the only thing that made me any different from them was a sparkly green dress and gold mules, but I was more than happy to oblige. What this also meant, however, was that during the rehearsal, we failed to ask the priest (who was in his early 80s and married half of the groom’s family including his parents), when we were to sign it – before, during, or after the ceremony?
Ergo, through a series of strange circumstances, I ended up walking down the aisle with the unsigned marriage license tucked lumpily into my bra. However, this was not before I hauled ass down the aisle first – solo, in gold high heels – ahead of the everyone to scope out the crowd situation for the bride, and also to talk to Father Bob about the marriage license and its role in the ceremony or lack thereof. Considering I had three glasses of champagne in the limo in approximately six minutes, this went something like this:
J (breathless, tripping in high gold mules): FATHER BOB. I HAVE PAPERS IN MY BRA.
FB (a Catholic priest, mind you. Who is seated at the altar that I did not bow before running up the stairs and also wearing lots of fancy and complicated robes): Dear…what? I’m sorry dear.
J: I have the marriage license in my….uh, my dress. Do you want it? What do we do?
*gesticulates wildly towards boobs*
FB: Oh, um, I’ll ah, take them later. When you don’t have to, ah, pull them out of there.
J: [brightly] Okay!
Immediately following the ceremony, I did, however, have to do just that, which is to pull them out of my bosom and hand them over to him, suitably chagrined, because God, I reached into my boobs and pulled a suspicious-looking envelope from my breasts and handed them over to a priest.
I also proceeded to get slightly happy-drunk and love, rather annoyingly, on everyone at the wedding, which is what I do. I’ve never been an angry drinker – God, what would the point be? – and instead, morph into a much more loving version of myself, and unfortunately, this turns into inappropriate use of the words “I love you” to people I may or may not have just met, often shortly after introducing myself.
However, it was a truly stellar weekend, and as of this moment, I’m more than a little embittered that I am no longer drinking gin outside of a swanky historic hotel surrounded by 100 of my closest friends.
Hope your weekend was fantastic.
*Shannon Worrell
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
22 Comments Add your own
1. Heather B. | April 29th, 2007 at 6:42 pm
I feel like there was something in the bloggy water, everyone seems to have had a super fantastic weekend. Which of course is a most excellent thing.
2. -R- | April 29th, 2007 at 8:37 pm
That wedding sounds like an excellent excuse to fall off the wagon, so don’t sweat it. Did you do any drunken dancing?
I am not mean or especially love-y when I am really drunk. I am just chatty and perky. I seriously do not shut up. I am sure everyone loves it!
3. Suebob | April 29th, 2007 at 8:52 pm
I drank way too many gin and tonics last night, too. Too many being two. I am such a cheap drunk.
4. Sadie | April 30th, 2007 at 5:48 am
I stayed at the Viking once!! Don’t you feel fabulous and rich just pulling up to that place?? Except for how I pulled up to the valet in a Camry, and had a little cooler full of beer and snacks. *shame*
Glad you had a fabulous weekend and I am sure you’ll be back on your WW horse in no time. We all need those piggy, booze-soaked weekends every once in a while, and your excuse was better than mine (“my brother wanted to get nachos from Chili’s and I like those little margaritas that come in the blue shaker”).
5. TwoBusy | April 30th, 2007 at 5:53 am
What a lovely hotel — I can only imagine the memories it will bring your friends in the years to come.
6. Amanda | April 30th, 2007 at 7:20 am
Can you post a picture of yourself in the sparkly dress? I’m positive you looked smashing.
7. Claire | April 30th, 2007 at 7:21 am
sounds like a fabulous weekend. you DO need those weekends every once in a while because it helps you to appreicate your new WW lifestyle more. Right? cause a weekend of cheese puffs and gin will show you how much better you feel when you’re on a diet.. or something… um..
Besides, there’s no calories in gin!! It’s clear! No problem!
Did i just make that up? Yeah, maybe.
8. SueB | April 30th, 2007 at 9:06 am
Sadie – I once took my BF to El Encanto in Santa Barbara (http://www.elencantohotel.com) and he brought his clothing in a plastic grocery bag. You should have seen the valet’s face when BF handed it to him. He held it with his pinkies out like it was something dead and vile.
9. erica | April 30th, 2007 at 12:08 pm
mmm…gin….
10. jonniker | April 30th, 2007 at 12:10 pm
Amanda: You’re too kind, but alas, I have to wait for photos. I was *far* too stupid, and brought a fancypants camera, but did NOT bring a memory card. Right! I KNOW! NOT SMART.
R: NO DANCING. You know this!
11. -R- | April 30th, 2007 at 7:48 pm
I thought the gin might bring out Dancing Jonniker!
12. Jennifer | April 30th, 2007 at 8:35 pm
Glad you had a great time! Your account did sound like a lot of fun. Unfortunately, I’m not a happy drunk… or a sad one, or an angry one or any of the above. I am a vomity drunk, as in, if I have anything more than perhaps one glass of wine or a half glass of beer, it’s a guarantee that I’ll barf my dinner. So, I’ll stick with my ice water. This way I can save up my empty calories for much emptier things, like chocolate eclairs!
13. lightspeed | May 1st, 2007 at 9:34 am
Piiiiiiiiiic – tuuuuuuuuures! *whines*
14. Mauigirl52 | May 1st, 2007 at 2:15 pm
LOL about the handing the marriage license to the priest after pulling it out of your bosoms!
Glad you had such a good time – sounds like a great wedding.
15. Melanie | May 1st, 2007 at 5:22 pm
I love weddings! I had no idea how much I loved them til my own, which was so much fun, and then my best friend’s, which was also so much fun, but more for drinking reasons, since I got TOSSED. And I love that you pulled the papers out of your dress in front of the priest.
16. metalia | May 1st, 2007 at 6:06 pm
Your exchange with Father Bob has me giggling like a schoolgirl. I love it. So happy you had a nice weekend!
17. Amy | May 1st, 2007 at 6:49 pm
Why would you talk about the sparkly green dress and gold shoes and then not show me pictures???? You’re just mean.
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