Ok, I’m just not feeling it... creatively, that is. I'm kinda over it, I guess - the people I started this damn thing with have tapered off and I'm finding little motivation in everyday life. That, and I’m a lazy slob.
Well, I just got back from a wedding in Mexico… and am finally starting to get over the depression of being back. The four days were everything I could’ve asked for in a vacation – family, friends, drinking, drugs, and sex.
Let’s start from the beginning. Months ago, one of my dearest friends (Jocelyn) from back home announced her engagement and her intent on a destination ceremony… in Los Cabos, Mexico.
I was looking forward to the wedding for several reasons. First and foremost because I am friends with Jocelyn and was honored when she asked me to be at her side for the occasion. Second, not only were some of my closest friends were going – my parents would also be there, which translates into an all-expenses paid trip for Nicole. And third because the wedding was in Mexico. Sure, this means flights, delays, fuss… but it also means sun, sand, and a private pool. I like that.
Because I’m possibly the only person over the age of 23 not dragging some asshole home with me every holiday or other special occasion and I think it’s a little strange to go alone to a wedding - even though I’m single and ready to mingle, ladies - I told Jocelyn that I’d be bringing a date (also, everyone else was bringing a date and I didn’t want to be the only lonely one). I’m pretty sure 43% of the guests took me for a lesbian, so having a man on my arm was also a nice surprise for everyone (parents included). For this cause, I enlisted my friend, Roy, who I convinced to attend the wedding with me after a long day of drinking and sunning on the boat this summer. He, having known me for years and slept with me a few times, took pity and agreed. This made me happy because although it may surprise you, I had a pretty strict set of criteria for my date and Roy met just about every one: he’s attractive and charming, smart and funny, a fantastic boozer and not afraid of a little smoke.
As time went on, the small intimate ceremony grew into an all-out production and the guest list grew from am estimated 40 to a confirmed 90+. Since I have about as much interest in high-end weddings as I do in a glass of cranberry juice, I was a bit stressed. There were scheduled dinners Thursday and Friday and the with the wedding on Saturday, this meant 2 dresses, 3 pairs of shoes, accessories, make-up, hair and nail appointments, tanning, and the ever-dreaded Brazilian wax. Not to mention, when I tried on the bridesmaid dress for the first time, my scream of horror possibly killed a small dog although nothing has been proven.
Since I was the maid of whatever, I knew I was under some obligation to say a few words. I enlisted our dear friend, Ross, also in the wedding, also a friend from home to join me up front. My timing was impecable and my toast was near flawless. I know I am one to boast, but in all humility, I killed. I didn't have anything formally prepared and was probably five glasses of wine into the night but two fantastic one-liners coupled with a tear-jerking end... flawless.
I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve been quite spoiled when it comes to vacationing and typically, we mix clean, breathtaking beaches with the colorful lush countryside. Mexico – not so much. To be quite honest, unless you were on the resort side of the highway, it looked a lot like West Texas… dirty, dead, and desolate. The resorts were groomed with vegetation and by the end, I could see the appeal… but nothing I’d re-visit time after time and pay millions to do so.
West Texas: vs. Los Cabos
I’ll be the first to admit, I didn’t quite understand but it was made very clear. Everyone is in vacation mode. No one has to get up for church, or drive home, or is tired from working in the yard all day… etc. During the reception, half the guests were on their feet dancing… before the salads had been served!! The last wedding I was in had a strict no alcohol before the wedding policy, whereas this one was not a question of if you drank that afternoon, but rather how much.
Coming off of a vacation to Mexico, I was a bit of a Cinco de Mayo downer because if I don’t have another margarita until the next time I go to Mexico, it will be too soon. They served their purpose for the week and were gloriously made with the alcoholic in mind. However, after my fifth I.V. of the stuff, I was ready to move on. I don’t actually remember a time when I wasn’t drinking but could only think of one way to enhance the trip, getting some green. Landing weed proved to be very easy, as the first vendor I asked hooked it up and after smoking, it didn’t take me long to remember what a wonderful friend she has been over the years.
I’ll spare you the details of the trip because, quite honestly, it was near perfect. Jocelyn looked absolutely gorgeous, my parents paid for everything (except the weed and condoms), I partied every night with the friends I love most, and getting messed up is pretty awesome.