The sirens that went off during the vows were're harbingers at all...

It's been quite a couple of days and I don't think I've mentioned the wedding of the year.

After begging off the actual "wedding of the year" up in Boston, Walt and I took a mini-road trip down to the Radford/Christiansburg for a weekend of matrimonial festivities/dropping off graduate rec. forms to former professors and employers. The latter went smoothly and both Tims seemed more than glad to aid in my post undergraduate asperations. We opted to stay with my college roommate and her husband (of about two months) over one of Walt's friends from school I only recently met (but who is, ostensibly, awesome.) If we stayed with my roommate we could bring my dog. At the time, this seemed like a simple solution to the problem of who would walk the dog while I was away. Bad idea. College Roommate lives in a town infested with fleas that (which?who?) latched on to Bagel the moment we took her outside. Totally not cool considering a)fleas bring plague and I don't like posies, b)I had no means of preparing Bagel for fleas or aiding in their immediate demise and the stuff CR put on her did not work...at all, and c)how do you conveniently forget about a massive pest control issue after your friend/weekend guest asks if it is ok to bring her pet with her? I spent the weekend alternately convinced I had fleas and picking them off the dog. Neither of us was pleased with spending our time in such a manner.

If only this had been the totally sucky thing about the weekend. Nope. Not with a wedding on the docket. After handing out the rec forms, we (me, Walt, Walt's friend, CR and Spouse) went to lunch at the local mexican place. CR proceeded to drink a 32 oz. beer. I also had a, comparably diminutive 22 oz. beer (for the purposes of full disclosure). I wouldn't mention this at all except CR drank so much during the reception that she fell, hit her head, puked on herself, and had to be transported via ambulance to the hospital.

Totally fucking classy.

I say this out of genuine regard for her safety and well-being, but also overwhelming ire. When I talked to her after the fact, she said that she'd probably be drunk constantly were it not for the "scrutiny of [Spouse]." Granted, Spouse also apparently took a picture of her during the apex of her shenanigans. I'm kind of amazed by his forethought. When we were talking she kept mentioning how she's been down on herself and how this was all very embarrassing. Given how she chose to vent these feelings, I don't have a ton of sympathy. I hate that she lives so far away and I wish they had the means/opportunity to move somewhere better. Still, she kind of ruined someone else's wedding. Frankly, she was doing good job messing up the day way before she passed out. She fell on the dance floor and couldn't manage to say anything in a decibel range that did not include the entire wedding party in the conversation. Repeated requests that she switch to water or soda were met with "you're not the boss of me." No, I'm not. And clearly you aren't either.

Granted, this was a long-time coming. This is the girl who, if money allows, will drink 7 beers when the occasion calls for none. But that was college. The rest of us have since moved on to lifestyles far more forgiving of our livers' limitations. Personally, I've discovered a whole world of things that can get done on Sunday morning if one is not asleep/nursing a hangover/desperate for macaroni and cheese. Also my clothes fit much better. Much. Much. Better.

I don't know if I should wait until I'm less mad to tell her she has a drinking problem. I also don't know how to even go about telling her. We're not really phone people but this is not a AIM conversation. I think a letter is in order, not an e-mail.
...

After CR went to the hospital, Walt and I called his friend. We took my flea-ridden pup over, where I washed her repeated, and fell asleep on his couches. I woke up the next morning with a wicked head cold.

I had to leave work Monday morning at 11am after my boss suggested that I go get lots and lots of sleep.

So to recap: Dog got fleas. Took college roommate to hospital. Got sick=Best Weekend Ever.