I sat nervously with a group of other plus ones for about five minutes, sure I was going to drown in my own lame small talk, before looking up to see some close friends of Terence's (that I had only met ten minutes prior) stealthily waving at me to come join them. My heart melted into gratitude; I grabbed my wine glass and snuck over to their table, taking the one unclaimed seat at the wedding. Between getting to know his friends (who are awesome), I chatted up a documentary filmmaker seated beside me, successfully fooling him that I am socially adept. Sucker!
The wedding itself - held at a mountaintop ranch in Malibu - was spectacular. It was officiated by a friend of the bride and groom, and the vows (as well as a poem written and read by the groom's mother) were beautiful. The food and catering service (Heirloom LA) were phenomenal, and the DJ had been recruited from Burning Man. After dinner and dancing there was a silent disco, and after that, guests were invited to camp for the night in tents along the ridge (ocean views, trees, boulders, and a koi pond - crazy pretty). Everything went off without a hitch; in fact, I was so impressed that I sought out the event coordinator after the reception to say how unsurprised I was by her great reviews.
Highlight of the night, however, was the best man's speech. Apparently he had spent nearly every day with the bride and groom around the time they had met, working on some project. He talked about having had the rare opportunity to witness a couple fall in love, day by day. "I watched you become essential to one another," he said. I've grown pretty cynical about weddings since my own (which I subsequently dubbed The Great Cash Bonfire of 2008)...but that part definitely got to me.
Didn't take many pics, but here are a few #onblurpose (haha NOPE not even close, just one too many champagne toasts to focus) of the reception area:
Sunday's event was a much more casual affair, held at a kid's camp in Altadena. I had my date all to mahself for that one. Badminton, parasols, and Chinese lanterns, oh my.
And, uh, this:
Tomorrow is the anniversary of my birth, and since my brain is already checked out in anticipation of the revelry, I should probably stop now before I ramble on into some awful Upon Entering The Final Year of My Thirties treatise (and reveal just how little I've actually learned in four decades).
Bon weekend, weirdos!