fireworks

You know how there is a genre of comedy films that focuses on weddings?  There almost always are certain character types ranging from the sexy bridesmaid to the drunken uncle.  I have been to enough actual weddings to realize that stereotypes exist for a reason.  The combination of high emotion, booze, and too much family for too long together makes for a potentially explosive situation.

At my cousin's first wedding, the DJ got drunk and started spouting not so subtle sexual references using baseball terms (the groom was a professional player), followed by inappropriate music that led to the groom's cousin choosing to hump a member of the wedding party on the dance floor, complete with nipples popping out of her teeny, tiny dress.  I was twelve at the time and found the whole situation more interesting that horrifying.  I did not feel the same way about my grandmother stumbling around and finishing other people's champagne that they had left on their tables.

Eventually the rowdiness caused my young self to be banned from the ballroom so my uncle took me to the pier of the yacht club and together we launched one of the ice swan sculptures into the gulf of Mexico.  He figured that he would get his money's worth out of them. Then my uncle handed me his checkbook and said that I could use it for kindling. 

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One of the two weddings that I attended this weekend (and I had thought that wedding season was finally over!) could have been scripted by a wedding comedy writer.  The cousin of the bride, who has been married three times and has seven kids from four different fathers, jostled the other single women out of the way to catch the bouquet. A bridesmaid became vomiting drunk two hours into the event.  Another drunken guest revealed that the groom had slept with his sister.  Later, as the groom's mother was regaling us with a tale of how concerned she had been that he had lived in Hong Kong for six years and hadn't met anyone, a table full of women who worked at the groom's restaurant started tittering.  There was a story there, I am sure.

Apparently this kind of wedding is the best kind...for the guests, at least.  On Sunday morning a dozen of us met up for brunch and compared notes on all of the incidents and revelations.  I was laughing for hours.

SB and I later had a chuckle about how our wedding would go off.  We are close to two of his exes and friendly with another three, along with me still being friendly with my first boyfriend so we could probably fill one table at our reception with only exes.  Then we would have to invite some of our rugby teammates.  Okay, we would probably need to invite lots of them since many of the friendships span over a decade.  They would sing those songs. My father would probably have a heart attack looking at the lesbians on my team.  And my mother and father aren't on speaking terms with my aunt, who happens to be my godmother, and my other aunt, who is my sister's godmother.  Yep, we should probably elope but I'm kind of curious to see what happens if I throw everyone from each aspect of my life together and then add booze.

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