I now pronounce you Sarah and Champagne

I can hear you yelling at me for not blogging. Stop it. You can't yell at sick people. Yes that's right I'm sick again. I got sick on Saturday. So while you guys were enjoying your extra long holiday weekend I was laying on my couch with a fever and watching "Continental Divide" (26 years late), an Olsen twin movie which I accidentally put down on my Netflix queue because I thought it was something else and "A Cinderella Story" which I made my sister go see with me in the movie theater and which I happened to just find…ahem…sitting on top of my DVD collection.

I have so much to tell you. It's going to have to be broken up into several posts, though. First the wedding. My friends Kim and Kevin got married on August 25th. Diane and I were in the wedding which means we got to do girlie things like get manicures and pedicures and get our hair done.

Here is basically what my hair looked like:










Only it was more like this:










Honestly it wasn't this bad-it just felt like that. The wedding was beautiful. Kim looked like a princess. As soon as the ceremony was over and my wedding partner and I were walking back down the aisle he turned to me and said, "So now we drink, right?" That gives you a pretty good idea of how the rest of the night went.

Sharda and Meg were drunk when they showed up to the reception. And by about the third song, "YMCA", John, Drew, Aloyd and the groom's brother were dressed up like The Village People (seriously). The sash/belt thingies from our dresses soon became lassos to reel in the dance partner of our choosing. Unfortunately, I know that video exists of me lassoing Aloyd and holding the sash around him while rubbing it on his posterior. I've already mentioned the video of me, Drew and Hor doing the robot. What about the one where I looked over at Meg all by herself, video camera trained on her from 3 feet away, jumping up and down and yelling into the camera. Or Gordon doing the Michael Jackson "Billie Jean" dance. And I really, really don't want to talk about the video of a drunken Diane, Anita and I wishing the happy couple good luck. Yes, Kim and Kevin, enjoy your precious memories.

I'm going on record here blaming Anita for my state of mind because after the complimentary champagne toast (and after we finished off that first bottle), she convinced one of the waiters to bring not one, but two more bottles of champagne for us. What I hear from the peanut gallery is that someone looked over at the head table and said, "Oh my God Sarah is holding a bottle of champagne. This is not good." Well ha ha ha on you, folks, because I ended up being the most sober one in my hotel room that night.

To be fair, it wasn't much of a contest. The other two in the room were Sharda, who at one point in the night had on 3 men's ties and one of the bridesmaid sashes, ran to the bathroom about 45 minutes before the end of the reception to-hmm how to say this nicely-yarf everywhere and Meg, who…well you know what-I will save her some embarrassment by not providing exact details on her activities for the night. Let's just say she likes making out and ended the night in tears because we had to lie and tell her this one guy was a drug user with a girlfriend so she wouldn't try to make out with him. Don't feel bad Meg and Sharda, everyone takes a turn being the ass. Remember me at...well, every single other time we are drunk? That night was your night. Own it. Embrace it.

Can I just go on record saying that a wedding reception at a hotel is the greatest invention ever? When the party's over you just go to the hotel bar, and when they kick you out of the hotel bar because it's closed and because your friends are making out and because you finished off the pizza you ordered at 1:30am, you just go upstairs and go to sleep. It's genius.

Anywho, it was another kick-ass wedding, and I want to wish my friends Kimmy and Kevin the best of luck forever. And please have me over to play with the Bocce ball set I got you. And also you could probably set out some food if you wanted to. I'm just saying.

P.S. Regarding The Train in my previous post: Some of you have asked, "Hey, Okay Seriously? What gives? Why don't you like the lame ass Train?" Okay I added the "lame ass" part. Here's my problem with The Train: it's lame ass. It's so uncomfortable. I always end up behind and in front of strangers whose hips I have to grab and who are grabbing my hips. Call me a prude, but I'm not into sharing hip-grabbing privileges with just anyone all willy-nilly style. Also 80% of the time it means I'm listening to that horrible godforsaken come-on-ride-the-train song so I'm like 50% more homicidal than usual. On a side note: A, I'm glad to hear the 6 foot rule worked for you. If I can save just one person from The Train then I'm doing my job. Look I'm not saying my blog is saving lives, but I think A would agree I totally saved her life.