Various aspects of my gnarly weekend included:
To my surprise, I opened my suit carrier to get my tuxedo out only to find that my tuxedo wasn't in there. No, my tuxedo shirt, tie and suspenders were in there, but not the tux itself. Instead, there was an old suit. I ended up going to the wedding wearing my tux shirt with the suit, and while I looked rather ridiculous, it appears that nobody noticed.
a cool buzz, and I'm fine.
Paul and Jessica got married on the beach as the sun was setting. I'm serious. That's really how it happened. I have witnesses.
The ceremony itself was very, very tasteful. While I certainly don't have much use for religion, I also tend to find 'alternative' versions of established rituals to be... well... silly. This was not the case here. The proceedings were kept very simple, which had the advantage of keeping them succinct; this was the marriage of Jessica and Paul and they, and their love for one another, were the focal point of it. They both wrote very touching vows, which were the centerpiece of the whole thing. It was also without a doubt the shortest marriage ceremony I've ever experienced, making me wonder why people think they need to fill up weddings with so much padding.
at the food line.
If the food at the party the night before made an impression (see previous entry), the food at the wedding blew it away. There was a glorious raw bar, great hors d'oeuvres floating around, including ginger shrimp... interestingly, I ordered the entrée provided for the vegetarians. This was not done out of any concession or anything, merely because the risotto with mushrooms sounded like it tasted really good. And it did.
The most impressive part of the feast, however, was the chocolate fountain, which was this gargantuan geyser of chocolate fondue that one took various morsels such as marshmallows, strawberries, bananas and whatnot, speared them violently with a toothpick, and then held them under the font to cover them. Delicious.
You have no idea. You see, there were these "special" brownies and I ate too much of them the first day. You know, I didn't feel it right away, so I took more... and they were triple chocolate brownies, so they tasted good anyway, you know? Now that I have a greater bead on dosage for that particular item, I am shocked at how much I did eat.
I enjoyed Fast Times at Ridgemont High on the bus, but it wasn't until I was halfway through the stargate sequence from 2001 and I realized that everybody else had been watching a Woody Allen movie that I noticed that I was really, really flying (note: I still was able to win three out of the four hands of Uno we played on the ferry in this state, and managed to work out the reservation snafu as well). I was completely wasted for fourteen straight hours (which is why it was so amusing to have been sober towards the end of the disco party on Friday night when everybody else was that wasted).
The funny part about that whole thing was that while I was completely fucked up, I was rather enjoying the ride. I mean, as long as I was committed to this trip for an unspecified period of time, I may as well have a good time on it, right?
"Hey Bud, let's party!!!"
I didn't know that you could fit that many people into a hotel room. It was like sardines in a can, only with alcohol instead of oil. Which was, to be fair, kind of cool. Things went raging well into the night. I feel guilty because we all totally trashed Tony's hotel room. Completely. He said he was cool with it, though, he tossed some extra money at one of the hotel maids to help him out with it.
It's nice to know with my body failing me in so many other arenas lately, that carousing is still a skill I possess.