Get me to the church on time...or not

This time, it really wasn't my fault. The wedding I was attending this evening started at 5:30, and I needed to be there between 5:00 and 5:15. It was the wedding of my good friend K's brother, and I was not just any guest...I was the guest who would be whisking her infant nephew away from the ceremony should he start hollering mid-vow. So, clearly, I had a critical role to play and needed to be prompt.

Problem 1: the bra. My adorable new Anthro dress is of course sleeveless, and though I had a little cardi to wear over it, you could still see the tiniest corner of bra if I moved a certain way....like at all. But I couldn't find my strapless bra anywhere. I looked and looked, but it was all for naught. So I left the house a little later than anticipated. And felt like Tacky McTack.

Problem 2: the accident. The traffic is always congested the last few miles before you get to the freeway, and by the time I got in the thick of it, I realized that the traffic wasn't just congested, it was at a dead stop. And remained so for over 15 minutes. Of course, it's hard to be mad at such things, especially when you get to the front and see the horribly mangled cars. It sure makes being late seem ridiculously miniscule.

Problem 3: the GPS. There were 2 listings for the address I was searching for. They were identical. Even down to the zip code. I picked the first one, which took me to a deserted sandlot. Something told me I was in the wrong place, namely the fast food worker across the street who hadn't even heard of the establishment where I was headed. By this time it was 5:29. Luckily the second GPS listing was correct, and only 1.6 miles away.

Since the greeters had long since stopped greeting, I asked an employee for directions. These directions lead me to a room that was empty...except for the bride and her father. It was like a nightmare. This was THE MOMENT. He's literally seconds away from walking her down the aisle, and in walks this girl who is 1) late and 2) obviously lost. I would have turned around and settled on missing the wedding altogether had another latecomer not entered the room a moment later. The bride pointed us toward our seats, and I took my post watching over the papoose. He didn't make a peep. I'm that good.

This was a non-LDS wedding, and while there's the lack of the eternal aspect (expression of regret), I almost prefer non-LDS weddings, because they are such parties. And I confess, I sort of like the idea of my wedding being a party. I mean, why not? It's a big deal. My only real complaint (or maybe it's that I don't understand it) is the alcohol. There was the bride, not only stunning but nothing short of classy in her elegant dress, yet holding a bottle of Bud Light. Bud Light? The nicest thing I can say about said bottle is we do those BL labels. They are film now as opposed to paper, and I think they look downright sexy. And I don't even drink. But back to the bride, at least make it a glass of wine, sister! Anything but a bottle. Oh well. Who am I to talk? My bra strap was showing.
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