There was a (extremely long period of) time in my life where going to other people's weddings was my life. I mostly* enjoyed it. What's not to love about weddings? Free food, beautiful venues, happy couples, reunions with friends, and sweet dance moves.
Last night, I went to only my second wedding of the year. I honestly can not remember the last time I went to only two weddings in a year. Five is average, but I've survived double digit wedding seasons on multiple occasions. I'm a pro. And yet, no matter how part of your routine it is, you always feel like death the following morning. I didn't have a sip of alcohol at last night's fantastic festivities and I still had to open my eyelids with a crow-bar this morning.
What a beautiful wedding! I can confidently say that it's ranked in my top three, excluding my own of course, and any family weddings because that's just not fair. It was so quintessentially "California wedding": set in an absolutely exquisite mountainside private residence with an outdoor ceremony and reception on the patio. Perfect weather, perfect sunset, and excellent food (key to a great wedding). But always most important, our dear friends looked so in love and so joyful. Congratulations to the newlyweds!
I should come up with a rubric for my wedding rankings.
*when I wasn't bitter and whining over the fact that I wasn't dating anyone. That never helps, I assure you
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