The Wedding. Where to hide during a vampire outbreak. And how I did not point and shout "whore of babylon" even though I wanted to.

So sorry to keep you all on the edge of your seats about the wedding I went to this weekend, but I was recovering yesterday. NO! This time I was not hungover. But my legs did decide to remind me that wearing heels is never a good call for my legs anymore. That my muscles and joints will join together in a protest of epic proportions thus rendering me unable to walk the following day. And their retaliation will be met with a counter-strike on my part with the aid of muscle relaxers which does have the effect of me being slightly insensible and some sleepy moments accompanied by drooling. Yeah, I wasn't pretty yesterday. But I did get a lovely nap on the couch, a scary movie from 1979 that I'd dvr'd watched, and hubby made dinner (okay frozen pizzas which is not quite dinner but the best he could do), and dived into the world of Mr. King while hubby watched football. And I only had to sock him in the arm once when he got bored and poked me in THE FREAKIN LEG.

As for the wedding...well first a warning...if you are very religious you may want to skip down a paragraph or two. I put reception in big bold letters so just go there if you're going to get mad and not read my blog anymore. K? As I do not believe in organized religion, my thoughts during the wedding ceremony might qualify as offensive and sacrilegious. I mean no offense. But if you like you can call me a pagan heathen. Just don't try to convert me. Mmmmk? Here we go...

The wedding was held in one of the most beautiful churches I've ever been in. Definitely the most beautiful one in our town. I've been to several weddings there so I'm familiar with the fact that the catholic wedding ceremony lasts approximately 3.5 years. Okay, maybe it's not that long, maybe it's only 1.25 hours, but to me it seems like forever. Add all the standing, sitting, kneeling and it's more like calisthenics then church. Everything was beautiful. All nine (seriously nine) bridesmaids and groomsmen looked great. No four eyed joes in this bunch. Five of the bridesmaids were sisters of the bride, one was a sister in law and the best man was actually a woman! She was the sister of the groom. The ceremony was lovely but of course my attention wandered. And as always when I'm in that church with all of it's paintings depicting saints, the statues, the stained glass and the cathedral ceilings, I'm forced to wonder who the hell dusts that place?? Is there like a team? And do they have to use scaffolding to reach the really high windows? Once I asked this question out loud...and earned some horrid glares. This time I merely leaned over and mentioned to hubby that in the event of a vampire outbreak, I was totally holing up in that church. With all those crosses and stuff the vamps don't stand a chance of getting in!!

Then they do that part of the service where you're supposed to greet your neighbors with a smile and a handshake or hug. Um. Hello. Cold and Flu season. Does this mean nothing to you?! Can we not change that to a fist bump maybe? To avoid unnecessary contact with the palm of a strangers hand that they may or may not have just coughed or sneezed on?? Yuck! And ever since I was little my reaction to this part of the service has been to want to jump back and scream "don't touch me!". Really, how can we teach our children not to talk to strangers and then take them to church and make them touch perfect strangers??? Don't even try to tell me that everyone who goes to church is godly. Because I'm pretty sure even John Wayne Gacy, Jeffrey Dahlmer and Ted Bundy went to church at some time or another. Showing up doesn't automatically make you a good person. When I was a teenager I would just stand with my arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. I'd perfected the "touching me is probably not in your best interest" look. But as an adult, I've forced myself to shake hands so as not to brutally rebuff what might be perfectly well intentioned folks.

Then came communion. And this is the part where I get really bad. My mother taught us that you should not take communion unless you truly believed in god and jesus. I have never taken communion and do not plan on it. I am not a hypocrite. I don't truly believe in my heart in the version of a higher power that communion represents. So when he took out that wafer and held it up I have to tell you it reminded me of a tortilla, which reminded me of tacos, which reminded me that I was starving! Then they got out the chalice and blessed the wine. Um. Hello. Again. Yes it's me germ watching girl. Cold and Flu season people! And yet everyone's going to drink from the same cup?? I'm sorry that I don't buy that blessed piece of cloth that they wipe the cup with kills flu germies. I did notice several people bypass the wine drinking. Either they are germ-careful like me or that's some yucky wine. Lulu's boyfriend was one of the non wine drinkers. He says it's yucky wine. He's also a lapsed catholic, and says he doesn't believe. So I asked why he took communion and he said "habit". I told him he was gonna get smote. Because if their version of God is true, then he knows when you're being a hypocrite and that is definitely a smiting offense!

Oh and there was this part where you were supposed to contemplate your own marriage and turn to your partner and ask forgiveness for things you might have done and rejoice in your bond. So I looked at hubby and told him I totally forgave him for being a poop this week. He said he didn't think that was what the priest meant and I may have gotten the intent wrong there. But whatever, he should've just taken the forgiveness. I thought it was pretty generous of me not even making him ask for forgiveness or anything. So now you know why me and church are a really bad combination. There's just no knowing where my mind is going to drift or if I'll forget and say things out loud.

Now for the reception...it was pretty uneventful. Until the end. We got there, found a table for ourselves and our friends. I sat on the side where I could see the door because I wanted to know when Jezebel entered. They started the food line and hubby decided to go look for the men's room. Lulu wasn't hungry so her bf and Sean and I headed to the line. As we're standing there who should walk in (not three feet from us!)...yep Jezebel and her boyfriend. (She got divorced shortly after I threatened to have a conversation with her husband if she didn't leave him and my son alone. Oh yeah, she's a piece of work. She was also hitting on Sean at the time. He was 14). Anyway, she now lives with a tattoo artist. But I did not shout "whore of Babylon" and point. I rolled my eyes instead and sighed loudly instead. I know that's way more mature. We got through the line and back to the table and omigod they were the best mashed potatoes I've ever eaten. Seriously. But then I saw someone's stuff sitting on our table and turned to Brandi and Laura.

Me: Please tell me that's not her stuff sitting on the table.

Brandi: As if! No way would we let her sit with us.

Me: well surely she wouldn't have the audacity...

Laura: I wouldn't put it past her. But no that's not her stuff.

Lulu: Do you honestly think I would have let her down this row of chairs? I don't want her anywhere near our men!

I saw Jezz and her bf come out of the food line and stand around looking for a place to sit. There wasn't anywhere. And for a minute I felt bad for her. But then it passed. Gradually through the night she worked her way closer to our table. And once when Lu and Luke were dancing she and her bf went to dance right in front of them, so that if we looked up to watch Lu, we'd have to see her. As the last of the dancing was wrapping up, Brandi's 3 year old went over and was sitting by Jezz, playing with her phone. I came off the dance floor and was standing with Brandi and her hubby. He was like "go get Mattie. We're totally going to have to wipe her down with antibacterial wipes now. Or get her shots." I added "yes, because I'm pretty sure Jezebel cooties are catching!" We laughed. Then it was over and time to leave. Hubby, Sean and I were walking to the door when I decided to hit the restroom one last time. I'd had some beer and it's a long drive home. When I came out they said they had to wait for Luke who'd also gone to use the restroom. That Lulu was outside already saying goodbye. I had her jacket so I took it out to her and we stood there talking for a few. Then Luke joined us and I asked where Hubby and Sean were. He said he didn't know they were waiting so they must still be inside. I walked back to the door and through the glass I could see them. Who do you think was standing close enough to touch them???! I said "oh no she didn't!!" and started for the door and Luke grabbed me around the middle and hoisted me to the parking lot. Lulu yelled that she'd get them. When Hubby came out I was primed for WWIII. He immediately said "I didn't talk to her, I swear" and Sean backed him up. About then Brandi and her hubby caught up to us. She says "I saw her moving in, I was trying to get there in time. I was like Matt, we have to go. We have to go now! We have to run interference!" So I settled down. So no fights, no arrests, no fun. I mean...I was very adult. Mostly. =]

And that, dear readers, is that. That's my blog and I'm sticking to it!
♥Spot