Weddings, Boobs and Hangovers

Having an actual social life is taking a serious toll on my blogging. Sorry about that. It's just so nice to interact with real live people instead of words on a screen, you know?

After the fun of meeting Badger, Karla May and Bookhart the other night (they all blogged about it, too, and thank you, Badger, for your complimentary words. You makin' me all redfaced, honey!) I took a day off the circuit and had a very early Friday night. Lemonade was the strongest drink I had all day.

So when Saturday night rolled around, I was refreshed and raring to go to my friend Margaret's wedding. My dress worked out pretty well, though I was sporting some pretty impressive cleavage, and I was honestly a little nervous whether breasts are still legal in Texas. Like, maybe Homeland Security had deemed them a threat to National Security or something, you know? You never can tell how laws are gonna change. Luckily, I was not thrown in Breast Offender's Jail, so that seems ok. Other girls were showing some yum yums, too, so I felt better. I can tell you Miss Karla May, fellow blogger, has some nice ta tas.

Margaret, the bride, looked absolutely radiant. She is so pretty anyhow, but being a bride suits her very well. Gorgeous, elegant blonde that she is. The wedding was beautiful, as I knew it would be, and the reception was great fun, with many people I knew and some new ones to meet. Most interesting was a German (well, practically Dutch, really) woman that I met, who has been here for 10 years now, and has the heartiest, most healthy laugh I have ever heard. She enjoys life to the hilt, I can tell.

The open bar was very generous, the food excellent. AFterwards we went to the Four Seasons for drinks, which may have been a bit excessive. But it was still fun.

The wages of sin are catching up to me now. (Well, that and impending Old Fartdom.) My one remaining brain cell must be nourished and cherished. When I get back to Norway, I am going off the sauce for a while. Need to detox. Sunday was a BAD HANGOVER day. Holy crap, I wanted to die. The only cure was Mexican food, and even that did not wholy cure it. It took two naps, the Shrimp Tostadas at Matt's and about 8 ibuprofens to even get me close to feeling human again. ARg.