Holy crap, I got the garter.
Last night still feels a little unreal, even with the photos I took that indeed show my friend Michol and her fiancé Doug doing the “I do” thing and the exchanging-of-the-rings thing and the kissing thing. They’re an interesting match, joking smart-asses who make each other laugh. So yes, it was a good night. A well-fed night, too.
The wedding and reception were in a ballroom being restored here in S.E., about 10 blocks from the Hawthorne Bridge; the building is unassuming from outside, quite pretty inside. I got there via the bus, figuring that maybe I’d get a cab for the trip home. But why take a cab when you can take a limo?
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
The wedding party was never less than cute – like the flower girl, who reminded me of the young lady who played Violet Baudelaire in Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events – and it included the hot (like bridesmaid Lisa, who’s already spoken for. D’oh!). Michol’s circle of friends is full of amused-and-amusing people. Heck, I even sat with a retired clown. Maid of honor Valerie, with a big grin, passed the title of Michol’s Best Friend (“I don’t know how I got that title,” she’d said) to Doug; nice gesture. And then there was dancing; we actually couldn’t get too many people to dance, but those of us – well, most of us – who did, did so with gusto. Mine was more a “do the flail!” randomness, but that was just fine and people appreciated my enthusiasm. I even did some disco-like moves with Lisa, so score for me.
In a later entry I might say what I did for Michol and Doug’s wedding video, but I want them to see it first. I told her that, when she watches it, to “listen fast.” “Why?,” she asked. “I speak fast,” I said.
At night’s end, because the ballroom was not really that far by my and Portland’s standards, I toyed with walking home, but I asked nicely if I could join several people in the limo and the party said yes. The driver dropped me off in front of my apartment building. As for the trip, A) it was short for me, and B) as Lisa said, “It’s like Vegas. What happens in the limo stays in the limo.”
(This post was NOT brought to you by liquor. The strongest thing I ingested last night was sparkling cider.)