March 15th, 2004

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Elvis has left the building...

100 yards of Latte satin later, I'm alive to tell the tale of the wedding. It was quite a show. I do not believe I've ever seen anything so elaborate in my life. Cocktail hour alone was an all you can eat buffet. And let's not forget there were not less than six "Elvis Tribute Artists" roaming around. (I was informed by one very intrepid "E.T.A." with a pair of very cool sunglasses that I totally covet - that Impersonators do birthday parties, E.T.A.s are artists and performers. So there you go, etiquette lessons on Elvis.)

Of course, I completely rocked the Latte. Granted, I did look vaguely like a potato bobbing around the dance floor, but that's just okay. I brought a good measure of 'Ghetto-Fabulous-ness' with me, as I shook what my mama gave me to such tunes as "Baby Got Back" and "Lady Marmalade" both of which were very appropriate for the occasion, don't you think? I was not alone in my Latte - I was surrounded by the "Ladies in Latte," four other fantastic women who dared to embrace the brown.

Also, I got smacked upside the head with the bridal bouquet.

It's really okay, you can laugh.

Really, I laughed for a good half an hour afterward. I vowed to hold this over my friends head for the next twenty or thirty years. As in, "I'm sorry I couldn't hear what you were saying, there was a bouquet flying in my face." I didn't even want to be on the dance floor catching the damn thing. I was trying to be nice to someone by going out there with her so she could catch the stupid flowers. But, as my Dad says, "No good turn goes unpunished." The bride was aiming at someone we both knew in college, who's going to get married next year. I just happened to be about 18 inches to the right of this chick. I was a victim caught in the line of fire (and let me tell you, the bride must have been working out, because -damn- that girl threw those flowers like you wouldn't believe. I have a bruise!).

When all was said and done, it was a lovely wedding, and thank the good lord, it's over. No more will the fear of brown satin rule my life! Elvis has left the building, the show is over, the Latte has been laid to rest.

Until next time...