Tying the knot. Taking the plunge. Heading to the chapel. The beginning of the end (just kidding, Jill!). The inevitable follow-up to Jill’s bacherlorette weekend in Austin: Jill Swanson got hitched this weekend!!
I flew in from St. Louis Friday night, excited for my 36 hour trip to Houston, aka H-tizzle, aka H-town, aka “Omg, I went two blocks in the wrong direction and now I am scared.”
I had a brief moment of social anxiety when I remembered the bride is a former sorority sistah and the groom is a former fraternity brotha, meaning… I would be flying solo into a room of Houston’s finest debutantes and beaus….who probably like country music. Then I remembered there’d be an open bar, and all anxieties (and later, inhibitions) flew out the window! YOLO!
If I could sum up the reception in three words, it would be: Haircuts, Helsinki, and Hangover. The night began with an open bar, which led to a few evening highlights:
- Almost booking a one-way ticket to Helsinki. ADD Tracey got distracted while on hold with American Airlines, prematurely ending the phone call before the purchase was made.
- Getting a very weird look from the bartender when I asked for one champagne class of vodka, and one champagne glass of coke. Not my preferred styling tools, but as ze best hairstylist in ze country, I will work with what I got, to give a haircut.
- Bustin’ a move on the dance floor with the coolest bridesmaids in all the land.
- Bustin’ my ass on the dance floor. It happens.
- Molly’s incredible party trick.
- Homeless people crashing the wedding. I tried to tell them next time, they should dress a little nicer and they could probably get away with it. I then directed them to my “Turnin’ a Trick” blog post about sneaking into places and playing pranks. I’m fairly certain my great advice fell on deaf ears.
- Making Kate feed me cake, while gazing lovingly into my eyes, as Paul documented the special moment.
- Yelling at Kate for not gazing lovingly enough. “Kate! Why are you not more into this?”
The After Party
- Running into a former classmate at the bar, and repeatedly asking him his name. Love that dude. Whatever his name is.
- Accepting challenge from groomsman, to see who can be the first to score digits from an eligible bachelorette. Never one to let a boy beat me, I immediately set out on my mission. I very smoothly obtained Susanne’s digits via elegant persuasion:
“Oh! Hey there”
“Hi. Can I have your number? So I can….um…call you? Ya, just in case I need to…do that”.
Obviously, Susanne couldn’t say no to that.
- Hanging out with a half naked dancing leprechaun (short groomsman) at 3AM.
- Jalapeno Pizza at 4AM. Such a bad idea. Followed up with milk, to relieve the fire in my mouth. Worse idea.
- I rounded up the evening by telling the groomsman I had been dancing with all night I was gay. He didn’t much like that. As reasonable adults, we negotiated a cuddle session to off-set “leading him on” throughout the evening. We struck a bargain where he could put his arm around me, but if his hand went astray, I would break it. Reasonable.
- Leaving the groomsman like a cheap whore in the middle of the night.
- Hurting the rental car. My mantra of “It’s okay, it’s a rental!” has once again gone a step too far. Last time, I wrecked Jill’s rental in St.Louis. This time, I wrecked my rental at Jill’s wedding. Full circle.
- Taking Kate’s advice to “Play it cool, maybe they won’t notice”, upon returning said damaged rental car. It probably didn’t help my case that I was wearing the “Sorry for partying” bacherlorette tank top, while I tried to casually play off the damage:
“Ma’am, is this your rental?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“It’s damaged (points to partially dislocated fender)”
“Oh my gosh! How did that happen!? What! Hmm….did I do that?”
“You need to go talk to the lady inside” (writes DAMAGED across the windshield…so much for going un-noticed).
I begin walking inside, hang a right at the last second, hop onto the shuttle bus, crouch down, and put on my sunglasses…b/c now I am totally disguised!
- Desperately trying not to vomit on my airplane seat mate.
I think I drank too much last night.