Why I’m Smirking (Not Smiling)

Because I got to slow dance with Kip (Napoleon’s brother) to the Four Tops being played by a 6-piece jazz band. I swear to God. Totally not exaggerating. If I can find the pictures of this wedding party in digital format, trust me, they will be posted here. You will never believe it without seeing it. And officially, mustaches freak me out. I used to think they were funny. No longer.

Because I not only told somebody to leave me THE FUCK ALONE when they grabbed my behind at a bar, I also told them I’d send over some tissues if they were going to cry about it.

Because at one point during the post-wedding speeches I looked down at the table in front of me (which, of course, was at the front of the reception hall where EVERYONE was staring at us) and saw a rum and coke, a gin and tonic, a glass of champagne, and two different types of beer. I am officially, “The Drunk Bridesmaid.” As in, “Remember the Drunk Bridesmaid asking the mother of the groom if she could bum a smoke?” or “Remember the Drunk Bridesmaid dancing with Kip to the Four Tops?”

Because I have ONLY FOUR MORE DAYS OF WORK!!!

Because I had to leave work today because Trent locked himself out and when I came back to work in a different outfit, I told people it was because my dog had jumped on me. It wasn’t. When you haven’t seen the Bearded Wonder in 5 days there is no containing yourself. It’s an automatic reaction. Especially after the most physical contact you’ve had with another person is sweaty, off-beat, slow-dancing with Kip. I couldn’t help it. **Smirk**