I don’t think I could sum up all the fun we had at our friends’ Jose and Lupe’s wedding. A million wonderful things happened, large and small, and it seems impossible that all those events were packed into two short days. I’m not even going to attempt a recap, so instead I’m just going to share snippets of my my favorite memories. These are the things I’ll remember:
The Mexican folk sayings that were read as part of the ceremony. Anthony leaning over and whispering their meanings in my ear, as the entire ceremony was conducted in Spanish.
The absolute, exquisite beauty of Lupe. Gorgeous on a bad day, she looked like a goddess.
Stef and I dressing like identical little old ladies.
Melynda’s awesome black feather fascinator.
How skinny Angela looked.
How nice Zack looked.
How utterly happy Jose and Lupe looked.
How, as a group, we managed to stand in the least convenient spots for a group to stand in throughout our trip.
Heading to dim sum post-ceremony because Dave threatened to catch and eat lizards.
Stef and I spilling bits of dim sum on our dresses. I accidentally dropped rice in my bra and told everyone I’d be throwing it at Jose and Lupe later.
Seeing our friend Aaron again for the first time in years.
Everyone sharing whatever they ordered.
Dave ordering the giant meat balls.
The inevitable piping match that broke out while waiting for the piñata.
Jake and Ben’s best men speech, and how they tied in Jose’s love of comics and superheroes.
The first drink I ordered wasn’t mixed properly and it came out so gross I couldn’t help but say, “Oh, gross! This tastes like the dentist!” This prompted so much curiosity from my friends that we passed the drink around the table and everyone sampled “the dentists drink.”
Jacob, who had been drinking, trying to convince his younger brother Caleb, who had not been drinking, to drive Ben’s car home because Ben is drunk. Although Caleb immediately agrees to drive the car, Jacob continues to try to persuade Cay to drive home for at least five more minutes, wherein Cay agrees to do it several more times. Fun fact: Ben is not actually drunk. At all.
Angela and I dancing to a song and realizing everyone knows the words to except us. Agreeing it’s not on our ipods nor is it from a children’s song. Realizing we are old.
The pastel song, and me explaining to everyone that the lyrics were basically “We want cake, cake, cake, cake, cake!” Everyone’s surprise at its meaning, followed by everyone agreeing that it was the best song ever. Angela declaring, “I want that as my ringtone!”
Lupe’s parents, who were among the first on the dance floor and the last to leave. They danced us all under the table.
The crazy crack-the-whip game the single men and women played before the bouquet and garter toss. The men flying by while we cheered for our friends. The line snaking past us and Jake shouting back, “I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!” Poor Zack at the end, taking a beating.
Dancing to Mexican music with no real knowledge of how to do so. Looking completely ridiculous. The wildly inappropriate dancing we were doing in general. The wedding photographers crowding around us to take photos of the crazy white people.
The little boy who crashed hard and fell asleep before the reception was over. How sweetly he was draped over his father’s shoulder as he was carried home.
Realizing we’re probably going to make fun of Angela’s mom when we’re ninety, at which point we’ll have to end each joke with “may she rest in peace.”
Being driven back to the hotel by Melynda and Justin and comparing Dick Cheney to a honey badger while drunk tweeting. The first tweet made me sound way drunker than I was because autocorrected changed almost every word in that sentence. In autocorrect’s defense, however, I have no idea what I was actually trying to say. And, incase you were wondering, yes, Melynda is my homepants.
The $4.00 bottle of water in every hotel room.
The imagining the people who used to live in historic Dolce Hayes Mansion.
The telephones next to the toilets.
Discovering the copy of the Teachings of Buddha in lieu of the traditional Bible in our hotel drawer.
Anthony falling asleep on the Walton’s hotel room bed, snoring in the middle of our conversation. Stefanie saying I was going to have to fireman-carry him back to the hotel room. Me waking him up and Anthony thinking we’re calling it a night because I’m tired.
Waking up the next day and finding our hotel to be out of the motherfucking coffee. Inconceivable! Doesn’t this hotel know that we are old and hung over and we need our goddamn coffee?
Stealing hotel chairs from the various lounge areas to add to the Walton’s hotel room as it filled with more and more people.
The table at breakfast with the inane graffiti.
Justin, grabbing my camera to take photos while I am dancing. As is our custom, we will each take the other’s camera and take photos on it when the other is not around, including at least one gratuitous shot of someone’s butt. Justin, upping the ante by taking three gratuitous butt shots, including one belonging to his dancing, and completely unaware, wife.
The constant, hilarious, occasionally staged, photo bombs. It practically became a competition by the end of the night.
Anthony waking up early and staggering into the bathroom. He makes such a strange noise I think he must be barfing excess alcohol. Worried, I rush in to find him standing at the sink, water bottle in hand, crying, “FOUR FUCKING DOLLARS?!”