I love weddings. Love them. First off, I look damn good in a suit/tuxedo, and that’s really the only opportunity I get to wear one. Second, the food is always fantastic. I have yet to leave a nuptial spread unsatisfied. Third, there is usually enough booze per person to kill a donkey. Last, but certainly not least, there is dancing. And I don’t mean, rave, glow stick, sweaty, rolling on “E” dancing, I mean real dancing. Not the type of dancing your girlfriend always wants to do at bars, but waltzes, foxtrots, jitterbugs, and the electric slide. From the flower girl to the brides’ grandparents, everyone hits the dance floor no matter what skill level they are. I could go on, but those four reasons alone are more than enough to justify my love of weddings.
And it’s a good thing I love weddings because I have four this spring/summer. The first of which was last weekend. My good high school friend, Brooke, got married at a destination wedding in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Next, my college roommate and former L.A. roommate, Spencer, is getting married Memorial Day weekend in Richmond, VA. The very next Saturday, my best friend from high school, Austin, is also getting married in Richmond. A month later on 7/7/07, my oldest friend (as in length of time known, not age) Kristen is getting married in my home town of Newport News. It’s truly a whirlwind four months of travel back and forth across the country.
A word of warning to everyone who invited me to their wedding: I’m going to dance and I’m going to drink. Lord sweet pappy Johnson with an erection I will drink! Not to the point of excess, mind you. Not like the old Adam. Not like the Adam who first moved to Los Angeles and may have broken a toilet and blamed a visiting “fat girl.” I’m going to have some liquor, charm the pants off your friends and waltz with your aunt. It’s standard operating procedure. Just let it happen.
Also, according to wedding etiquette, I have a year to get you a present. Funds are tight. Cross country flights ain’t cheap. Neither are rental cars and hotels, so for the time being sit tight. You’re going to get something awesome, from the heart and not a gravy ladle. I’ll think about everything we’ve shared and come up with a thoughtful gift. For instance, I got my friend Bryan and his wife some nice wine from a place I visited in Napa Valley. Seems generic on the surface, but if you know us, it makes sense. I drank wine in high school and was made fun of mercilessly, mostly by Bryan. Cut to a year after college and he’s slamming Chardonnay at his apartment as a quick way to get drunk before going out. I’d like to think he’s more refined now, but after our power hour-induced Vanilla Ice rap session, I know that’s not the case.
So for all of you who have just gotten engaged or are about to, don’t forget about me. I’ve already got an informal “save the date” marked on my calendar for my old roommate Kent’s wedding next January. This marriage has been about seven years in the making so I hope it lives up to the hype, and by hype I mean crab cakes and Bud Light. As for the rest of you, keep the wedding invitations coming. My address is 1510 S. Wooster Street, Los Angeles, CA 90035. I’ll even accept invites from strangers. The only thing I need to know is the time, place and which of your aunts has both original hips.
(P.S.- I have no idea who the people in that picture are.)
No comments:
Post a Comment