I’ve just come from next to the fridge. Before right now, as in, mere moments ago, myself and my cocktail dress and my very askew eyeliner were crouching in heels with a spoon and making our way through the pasta salad, the potato salad, the peach pie, and yes, the sangria. We used a straw for that one.

Before that – hot, messy mess that it was – we were at a wine bar, my dress and eyeliner and I…eye?…I.  We drank, we laughed, we enjoyed ourselves immensely.

Prior to, we drank sangria in the back yard. Boatloads, if you must know. Pitchers full, straight out of jam jars, because we recycle and also because it’s cute. We are firm believers in both ecological awareness and fiesta avant gardeness.

See?

Before the sangria, oh what was it? It’s hard to remember before sangria.

Or after, for that matter.

Well, I think before that, it was this:

Hope you had just as keen a weekend.

If you need me – or my cocktail dress, my eyeliner, or my spoon – we’re now in the living room.

That cupcake doesn’t stand a chance.

I’ve already tested said speech to my mom, and she thought it was both funny and poignant.  But she’s my mom, so maybe she has to say that.  Test run #2 happens tomorrow at the bridesmaid’s luncheon.  While the bride is getting her hair and makeup done, I will be making the funny in a different room.

So, just like a usual day really.

I’m actually not really that nervous, because the groom’s Aunty Lila already talked about birth control pills, condoms, and bacon.  What do I have to lose at this point?

My pride?  Too late for that.

My street cred?  I have none.

My dignity?  I’m wearing a hot pink evening gown.  Enough said.

Full transcript of said speech will be posted after the wedding.

You’re welcome, Internet, you’re welcome.