Whew. That was perhaps the most activity I have ever shoved into one weekend. Here's the low-down in bullet point format:
4:30 am - Wake up, prepare for flight
9:25 am - Land in LA
10:30 am - Manny/Petty appt. (bleed, get open wounds infected, freak out about sanitary conditions)
11:15 am - Drive like there's a fire to Long Beach in an attempt to track down a replacement for a lost brides' maid dress. It ended up being the same as the flower girl's.
1:30 pm - Scarf down In-N-Out; enjoy
2:00 pm - Rehearsal
4:00 pm - Rehearsal dinner
6:30 pm - Bachelorette party (where we partied not-so-hard.)
12:30 am - Sleep
6:30 am - Wake up...fall asleep
8:30 am - Wake up, realize fell asleep, freak out, then hang out with old BASE floormates (Linell, Bethany, Katelyn) realize how much I miss them
11:00 am - Prepare for wedding, pretty up, realize dress is suddenly too big, freak out, live with it.
1:00 pm - Photos
4:30 pm - Wedding (choke back tears, succeed)
Some ambiguous time afterward pm - Reception
12:00 am - Watch Friends at friend's apartment, discover combination of activity and 1 fruity Smirnoff = instant and dreamless sleep.
6:00 am - Drive frantically to LAX, sit down with sub-par $5.00, Sugarfree, no-foam Hazelnut Latte, listen to a name-dropper talk loudly on the phone about attending a benefit dinner with Sydney Poitier and a new tie.
11:00 am - Hang out with Neighbour. Watch Pride and Prejudice: the Long...for the 96th time. Love it
4:00 pm - Take a deep breath
So, it appears I have a knack for catching things:
This is bouquet #3. Yes, that's right. Three. I don't even try. They fall into my hands. I'm not sure what this means because so far, it hasn't worked. If the third time isn't the charm I'm going to have a bone to pick. Someone has messed up the natural order of myth and superstition. And it wasn't me.