I flew to Portland this morning for my best friend Jen’s wedding.
You know Jen. I’ve written about her before.
I met Jen when we both moved to Utah in the fifth grade. We bonded over the fact that we both still wet the bed and loved playing with Barbies. Hell, we can TEAR UP some Barbie playing. I bet if you gave us a Barbie car, house, a few dolls, and a bottle of wine we would easily be able to entertain ourselves for at least an hour tonight. But we must have a Ken. Or else the Barbies would be jumping into bed naked together.
Jen was the new girl at Lowell Elementary who told us she had met a totally hot, hunky boy at the beach during the summer before fifth grade. She said he was a lifeguard and a great kisser and was totally in love with her. I completely fell for that. Then I realized years later it was highly improbable and she was just a kid who had watched the movie “Grease” WAY too many times.
I guess you could say she’s always been a sucker for romance.
That’s why she’s marrying this guy:
He actually kicks ass and I think he’s deserving enough to marry Jen. And I decided he was a fantastic human being after I met him for the first time, when Jen got really wasted and puked all over the inside of his car, all inside the window crevices and everything. He carried her inside and stripped her down and got her in the bathtub to wash the vomit out of her hair. Then when I announced to him that my sleeping spot was in Jen’s bed because the other girls had the guest beds, he shrugged his shoulders and scootched over and took up very little space. The sign of a good man.
Since this is Jen’s second wedding, I have fantasized seeing her walk down the aisle in something whimsical and fun, like this -
or this -
or even this -
Which would be perfect, because I have an awesome picture of Jen singing the American anthem while saluting the flag, and I will have you know she makes a very cute little apple pie.
But Jenny won’t wear any of those because she could not WAIT to get her hands on a second-chance white wedding gown, something pretty that shows off her shoulders. Like this:
She will be very, very beautiful and hopefully I will find out while I’m here how she repaired her hymen for her wedding night. I bet after having two kids it was a very expensive procedure.
I can’t wait to show you all the pictures and tell you about the special moments. They will most certainly involve a lot of cougars dancing around.
Now I have to skeedaddle, because I should probably write a toast for the rehearsal dinner. And I know that when Jen reads that she’s going to get very scared, but she probably won’t say anything to me about how deep her fear really is. She will just nicely remind me that her teenage children will be at the rehearsal dinner. I figure they are plenty old enough to hear about hymens and horny Barbie dolls and vomiting all over car windows.
Her teenage son even commented last night that he misses all his aunties. HIS CRAZY AUNTIES, that is.