So the weekend is over and both my liver and my boyfriend have survived. We started off with a fantastic bbq at my uncle Darcy’s place with relatives galore. My father couldn’t make it but there were more than enough of the rest of them to incite a little shock and horror in Steve. However, given that my families favorite “aromatic cigarette” was there in abundance, the stories were mellow, there was much laughter, and none of the usual threats of bodily violence should Steve turn out to be a less than stand up kinda guy. I learned a few things that night…… My step sister Shannon should not do whiskey shooters and my uncle Dale’s new fangled wheelchair means that I cannot pull off the wheelies that I once did with such ease- in fact, had Steve not had the forethought to stand behind the chair there would have undoubtedly been some type of head trauma or hospital visit- an occurrence not entirely uncommon when my family gets together.
Saturday was my little Ckenzie’s wedding and I must say that even with all the mention of God it was a beautiful affair and made even more so when Steve and I didn’t immediately burst into flames upon entering the house of God. I had honestly expected at least a rash or deafening clap of thunder. Ckenzie was a truly beautiful bride and I beamed with all of the pride of a pretend mother. Given both of the grooms parents had recently remarried and all four were in attendance, there was the inevitable awkward bathroom conversation about who had the better speech and who had more right to be there. Ah…. It’s amazing the things that people will tell a stranger after a few drinks and one only slightly inappropriate lifting up your dress dances to the theme to Pulp Fiction.
The highlight for Steve and I was definitely the entrance of one of the many guests. We looked in awe as she entered the room and I immediately set about trying to covertly take a shot of her to show you that “Sparkle Barbie” really does exist. In fact “Sparkle Barbie” was seated at our table so I can say with complete accuracy that her accessories include 3 inch purple sparkly heels, a cell phone and a camera. Her time was equally divided between talking on her phone and having her friend take pictures of her posed with a drink, sweeping back her hair, or trying to stand like Paris Hilton. It was fucking fantastic. We didn’t get home until just before 3 am after an amusing ride home with my ex Mark (Ckenzie’s father obviously) and his girlfriend in their vegetable oil burning car. With the sketch navigation and ridiculous laughter I am still extremely surprised that we found Darcy’s house.
