I went to a wedding last night. It's usually pretty hard for me to get all gushy about weddings - having been in two failed ones myself.
I've got high hopes for this wedding though; I fully intend on being invited to the 50 year anniversary, even if I am wheeled in there with an oxygen tank and my own paramedic (maybe I'll be skinny by then?)
When I looked at my photos of the night I realized I didn't have any of the bride and groom, the beautiful surroundings, the hilarious line dancing, or any even of my friends I sat with.
No, what I had a picture of was cheesecake.
In my defense, if there can be one, the cheesecake was really good - they had a cheesecake bar! A cheesecake bar! - That's what I said as I trampled down three unsuspecting guests in front of me - Sorry Grandma!
The fact that I had to wear my sister-in-laws dress, which should have been two sizes too big for me, but wasn't, should have been enough to stop me from even looking at that table. As any weight-struggling chubby girl knows - sometimes even looking at food can cause weight gain.
It's amazing that I was even able to run since the damn girdle (I know, whatever) I was wearing kept causing my pantyhose to slip down to my knees. I didn't realize my hose were down there until they impeded my walking.
Yeah, I'm a real class act. I spent the entire night pulling those damn things up. Come to think of it, I bet it was a real sight for any onlookers. (Note to self: Check YouTube for embarrassing video.)
It was worth it though. Good times, good friends, good food - of course.
I hope they found Grandma under the cheesecake table. Maybe I should call someone??
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