The husband and I went to a wedding on Saturday night. The groom has been friends with the husband for a number of years, but neither of us had met the bride, despite them being together for over two years. She knew of the husband and knew that he was DJing the first portion of the evening. But when she spotted me at the reception she looked a little concerned, like I might be a wedding crasher.
“I’m [the husband]’s wife! Also, you and I are friends on Facebook! Congratulations!” I saw the spark of recognition and all was well.
By the way, the husband’s DJing portion was pretty rad. The bride walked out to “It’s a Man’s World” by Marvin Gaye and then right after the couple kissed and started making their way down the aisle, he played “Lovely Day” by Bill Whithers. It was pretty sweet.
The ceremony and reception were both at Phipps, which was lovely and the couple kept things light by just having a tower of cupcakes from Dozen and hors d’oeuvres. The only flaw with this plan was that they had an open bar (wine and beer) and the hors d’oeuvres were light and limited. Soooo people got kind of rowdy…including a certain blogger we all know and love and whose name rhymes with jbibby.
The husband and I were 1 for 1 for exes present. My ex was easily avoided. The husband’s ex came and sat with us to chat at around Chardonnay #4 on a relatively empty stomach. I remember this conversation going just fine and even commiserating with her over our badly stubbed toes.
After she rejoined her date, the husband turned to me later and said, “You were all loud and kind of snippy with her.”
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? I WAS NOT!”
“Yeah, you were. It’s okay, though. It was kind of funny.”
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU MEAN, JAGOFF.”
And, yes, I do feel kind of sheepish about the fact that my last two blog entries have been about my twisted ability to accidentally get drunk, as though I don’t know what causes it.
Speaking of alcoholics, our useless neighbors forgot to put their trash out again and dumped it with ours. This practice in and of itself doesn’t bother me. I’m scatterbrained and can’t really judge anyone for forgetting such a task. However, it’s the CONTENTS of their trash that infuriates me. In the entry I linked to above, it was a bag of dirty diapers.
This week it was two cases of Beast. *horf*
As we got in the car to leave this morning, I said, loudly so that they might hear it, “I don’t want anyone thinking we drink that shit!” Think of my reputation, jerkfaces.