I normally don't let myself get to the point of blubbering idiot... I swear...

I mentioned before that The Man and I went to a wedding last weekend. It was the wedding of The Man's cousin to his beautiful long time girlfriend who is awesome.  She's one of those rare people who can be gorgeous and nice at the same time.  Like, she realizes the world doesn't owe her an ass kissing because she's stunning.

The Man and I arrived to the 5 o'clock event at exactly 5 o'clock. Which was exactly the moment that The Bride was making her way down the aisle. Oops. As is the way with The Man's family, though, it was just no big deal.

After the ceremony (which made me cry, dammit), we made our way to the reception area and a lovely waiter held a tray of champagne and water. No one took the water.

That was what I like to refer to as "the beginning of the end" for me.  We've all been to weddings where there was alcohol. Sometimes the alcohol is free flowing and sometimes it's guarded.  This wedding was of the former kind. Booze was available and it was everywhere.

Two champagnes before the cocktail hour, two rum and cokes during the cocktail hour, a few chardonnays with dinner and then it all goes blurry from there.  I remember seeing a guy at the bar that I recognized and it not occurring to me to place where I knew him from. I was just like "Oh, hey, that guy is here!" I still don't know where I knew him from.

Shortly after I lost my purse (The Man's mom was holding it for me), I found myself loudly arguing with The Man's brother about whether the 1st noble truth was bull crap or not (not).  I know I dragged The Man out on to the dance floor where I'm sure anyone sober enough to notice realized that I was in a foggy dancing haze... luckily I think pretty much everyone else had imbibed their share of the drink as well.

At some point I even trapped The Man's brother and forced him to listen to me cry about personal friendships gone wrong.  It was not my most shining moment.

Luckily, I don't think I embarrassed myself too much since I'm pretty sure The Man would have ushered me out if I had gotten too sloppy. Have I told you lately how much I love him?

After the wedding, The Man, who was not sloshed, drove us to Denny's in an attempt to sober me up a bit before we picked up the kids from my mom and dad's house. I vowed I would never drink again as I stuffed a Moons Over My Hammy into my mouth and downed three cups of the strongest coffee Denny's could provide. There is nothing like greasy food and 3 hour old coffee when you're drunk. Nothing. 

The wedding was Sunday which meant I woke up Monday with a hangover from hell and no one to blame but myself. Mondays always kind of suck, but a Monday that follows a drunken Sunday night is the worst. The kids were bright and cheery, there was work to be done and karate practice to attend and grocery stores to conquer. And I made it through. Somehow.

Never again, alcohol. You won't get me again.