Weddings are way more fun when they're not yours

Our good friends R. & L. got married this past Saturday. It was so much fun, and the ceremony was very personal and lovely, and they both looked so amazingly happy.

The bride and all the girls from Table Four, the neighbor table. They put us right up front, right next to the head table so we could throw them air-high-fives and stuff all night. Plus R. & L. went out of their way to make sure there was ACTUAL VEGAN FOOD for Nick and me, and it was tasty. So thoughtful.

And they did this other awesome thing (we're probably going to steal it, because it's such a good idea) where they put bottles of wine on the table, so you could serve yourself. It came in handy when, near the end of the reception, the waitstaff took my glass away while I was shaking my booty on the dance floor (with Nick, who usually never dances and who totally came through on the dance floor Saturday night. I love him). I came back to no wineglass and decided (there had been many glasses of wine consumed by this point) that the remaining bottle of red was mine, and I began drinking straight from the bottle. High class all the way, that's me.

Riley wrote my name on the bottle, and Nick helped me smuggle this one and a bottle of white out of the reception and into our trunk.

When we got home, we were too tired to get the bottles out of the trunk and Nick thought we'd forget them and they would erupt or break or cause massive damage. I said "Of course we won't forget, for I will write a drunken note to myself about the bottles in the trunk!" And this is the result:

Even in my drunk state I was amazed by my drunkenness. It's cosmic, man.

And the next day, as one might assume, I felt like this:

Congratulations to R. & L., who know how to take care of the vegans and throw an amazing party. Rock! And congratulations to me, because I managed to keep my camera away from predatory wine glasses all night long.