I now pronounce you... drunk.

And so we lost yet another Theta to the wonderful world of matrimony. Little Carrie Schiefelbein became little Carrie Bergan. At least I know how to spell Bergan, Schiefelbein is the trickiest last name ever. It was a wonderful Saturday evening wedding. Beforehand, Kim, Tyeler and I got ready at Kim's new second floor apartment. It was so great to reunite with my old sorority sisters! To think how much we've all changed since college, Tye is a wife with a busy new career in Jacksonville, Kim is a very mature and well behaved 4th grade teacher and I'm basically unemployed. We're all growing up. Like the cute sorority sisters we are, Tye curled my hair, Kim did Tye's makeup and I scratched Kim's back... Nine times out of nine that statement would be complete bullshit, but it's 100% true this one time. We might be the three most unlikely girls of our friends to partake in such a bonding moment, but it did happen. Except for the back scratching, I did it for a second but Kim shrieked because it was probably the first time I've touched her, same with Tyeler. Kim's a hugger and a spooner (Nebbia) but Tye and I refrain from this type of embracement, it's just who we are but that doesn't make us bad people. But after we exchanged our magical traveling pants and played Sex and the City (Kim said I had to be Miranda as usual because I'm "cynical") the three of us best friends headed to the ceremony, after a quick stop at Barreymores. I'm still wondering how Carrie pulled off a 6:00 p.m. wedding, I thought all Saturday catholic weddings had to be before 2:00 p.m.? Mitch must have been an altar boy at some point in his life and felt the priest owed him a favor for one reason or another... The reception was held at the Embassy immediately after. I have so much fun at my friends' weddings that I wouldn't be totally upset if at least half of them got divorced and remarried in five years so I can experience the fun all over again. I know that's selfish of me to hope for but I can't help it, open bars, free cake, and awkward wedding dancing is my idea of a good time. And what's more entertaining than wedding speeches? My favorite are the maid of honor speeches that usually go something like this, "I've known Sara for 12 years and we've been best, best friends ever since (cue to look at other BM's to let them know she's #1 friend and ALWAYS will be) and we did this once and we did that once and then we laughed and then we did this and then we had a sleepover and then we did this and when she met Joe we cried because we knew he's the one and congrats." But of course I knew to expect more from Ashley because she is a MOH extraordinaire and knows how to work a crowd, this ain't her first rodeo. With all the Princess Carrie jokes Ashley had the guests eating the wedding cake out of the palm of her hand. And touché to the man of honor, Jake, as well. He followed what Kim likes to call the "joke joke cry" speech formula, it's a guaranteed crowd pleaser. After two comical stories the crowd never expects to get hit with a sentimental one, gets 'em every time.

As the reception came to a close we decided we might as well continue the party downtown, why not we'd only probably had about 13 glasses of free wine what's a few more? Kim and I must have been an interesting sight to see stumbling toward the bars in our fancy dresses and heels, wedges for Kim. En route to the bar we got in a fight with a gang of African American ten year olds. I don't remember too much what it was about, but I recall telling them Kim was a teacher possibly even a Principal and could get them in trouble, and I called them "lame" for having nothing better to do than sit on O street... I hope they took all of my words very seriously. Losers. Our drunk train with only two passengers rolled into the Rail with a burst of loudness and cloud of alcohol and were greeted by... no one. I forgot that summer Lincoln isn't the most happening place to be. We didn't stay long before heading to the Bar. Earlier in the day Kim had proudly showed me pics of her fellow coworker at The Bar in Playboy as "Barmate of the month." So I'm slightly worried I made comments in reference to this toward said coworker when I saw her working, I can only hope they were polite and complimentary comments because it was truly a very classy photo, the type you could show Grandpa without blushing...

Kenz found me at the Bar and after just a little convincing from her we decided it was Lazzaris time. Kenz lives in "Nola" which apparently means New Orleans. I think people in that region have trouble with pronunciation and big words, Bobbi Bouche anyone? I imagine she doesn't get to eat pizza too often because in Nola they only eat things like fried frog legs and jambalaya so of course I was excited to eat Lazzaris with her. Spicy Chicken pizza and ranch has never tasted so good, and yet so unfilling. I could have easily taken down five more slices if left alone in there for just a couple more minutes.

As all great nights happen, it seemed to end much faster than it all began. I'm not sure I can wait almost four more months until my next wedding with Sara R-another hard last name and John. At least the weekend approaching is one of the best weekends of the year...