And the reception...

At our table in the back corner, I felt like we were the black sheep of the wedding. "We" being me and my guy, Ali, Janice, Beth, Jason and his Jenn, Kristen, and the two extra guys we squeezed at our table: Cam and Stogie. (Maybe you've heard of DJ Cam, and you've most likely seen photos by Ryan Whynott in the Coast.) The ex's sat next to each other and there was a comment made about J and Kristen switching, putting J next to KC. I made a comment about the other ex's, (they were more significant than KC). I didn't mean the comment to be mean, but it sounded that way. The only booze that was free was white wine, and they only gave us one refill. We had White Point staff at our table, so we got a little extra. You gotta keep the table of alcoholics drinking, or they might get up to the podium and say something inappropriate.

There was this rule at the reception where if you wanted the happy couple to kiss, your whole table had to sing a song with the word "love" in it. Our table never did, because we spent the whole time trying to agree on a song. It had to be cool, we all had to know it, and it had to be wedding appropriate. The closest we got to a decision was "Love Will Tear us Apart", but I didn't think it had the right message.

The speeches were actually interesting. That's probably because I was actually friends with the bride and groom. After the speeches, there was a break while the staff cleaned up the food and got ready for the dance. The bartender for the evening was none other than Casey, a friend of Mark Clarke's.

The party started quickly after the music. I couldn't find my black sheep friends (they were chugging some booze in the cabin), so I danced with Brianne and Blake. We bought a few beer and got our hands on a few more glasses of wedding wine. As the night wore on, more people danced and more people left. See, the bride's family had some Christians in it. They wouldn't dance, and left hastily when the girls started grinding each other on the dance floor. One even asked if "they" were lesbians. A slow song came on and I couldn't find my boy (he wasn't dancing yet anyway), so I danced with Brianne. I really had a good time with her. I've technically known her for a few years, but we've never gone past the saying hi to each other phase. We live around the corner from each other and are going to spend more time together in this coming year.

By the end of the night, even KC was dancing. That would be the fourth time, in six and a half years, that I saw the boy dance. The other three were a Halloween with the Momoya staff at Pacifico, one very drunken night at the jamboree where we danced to the Heelwalkers, and one time in the Dome.

Eventually, almost everyone that didn't have a cabin had left. Brian and his little brother had a dance off. I didn't see who won, but from the arms raised in the air, I'd guess that Max won. I remembered having sex at Brian's parents place once (years ago), and inappropriately asked the groom if it was his brother's or sister's bed.

Finally, the dance was over and the party moved out to the bonfire on the beach. There was some more drinking. More talking and my memory gets cloudy. There was a fireside kiss, proving to the Christians (if they had still been there, but they weren't), that maybe we were lesbians. There was a swimming attempt, but I chickened out. Everyone else went. I hadn't been swimming in years, and even more years since I'd been in the ocean. I went because I thought we were going skinny dipping. I was excited because I had never been skinny dipping. I guess I'll have to wait for my next chance. Everyone else had bathing suits or underwear, and I didn't want to be the first to strip. I also thought it was an after-school special waiting to happen. If they wouldn't come back to the fire with me, I can assure you that I wasn't going to be the one to drown. The last time I was in the ocean, at Rainbow Haven, I got caught in the under-tow and almost got pulled out to sea. I'm still afraid of waves.

KC and I were not the last to go to bed, but we were among the last. We sat around the campfire singing dirties for what seemed like hours.

I wanna paint my bedroom
The colour of your period
I wanna paint my bedroom
The colour of your period
The colour is superior

One more month till I can taste my period
One more month til I can taste my period
So good,
My period.

We made our way up to the girls' cabin and pulled out the couch.

A few hours later, we were awoken by knocking at the door. One of them hadn't come back to the cabin at all. Oh, the wedding. Someone has to hookup at a wedding. KC got out of bed, and went outside where he threw up over the porch railing, where the bunnies roam. I stayed in bed, mumbling and groaning until it was absolutely time to get up, pack up, and check out. Meanwhile, the in-laws were at church.

Back at their house, where we had to get our stuff and say things like "thank you", "I miss you", and "we'll see you again soon", dreaded conversation topics came up again. "I think you're depressed again...everything's negative." What the fuck. You try talking to someone about things you don't want to talk about. You know there's no point in talking about it because their brain-washed religious mind will NEVER understand your point of view. And then, try having these conversations either at your good friend's wedding, or the next day, very hungover. I can't even explain to you that I'm hungover, or how a hangover feels, because I don't feel like getting into the "you don't need to drink to have fun" convo. Of course "everything's negative." It doesn't mean I need pills. It doesn't mean I'm depressed. In fact, I'm very happy with my life right now, for the most part. At least, as happy as I've ever been. Probably as happy as I'll ever be.

We then enjoyed a nice, relaxing drive back to the city with the new Mr. and Mrs. It was very nice to not have to drive with the lecturers. (I do love them for so many reasons, but this weekend, I had a hard time).