matrimonial recap

A little over a week ago, one of my closest friends made the (terrifying and seemingly improbable-for-me) leap from single girl to wedded woman. And we (her five crazy friends/college roommates) reunited for the first time since graduation to celebrate her daring move. Here are some of the highlights from our weekend of marriage mayhem:

-Being the only unmarried people (with the exception of the under-twelve crowd) in attendance at the reception and doing our best to be inconspicuous—a difficult task for five attractive, mid-20s women in a mostly Mormon environment.

-Falling prey to the Mother-of-the-Bride and being forced to engage in a round of show-and-tell with all sexy gifts given, including a sex supply kit boasting (necessarily) naughty tools—condoms, KY, handcuffs, rope—then witnessing the discomfort of a mom coming to terms with her daughter’s non-virginity.

-Betting on who among us will be the next to wed (I’ve got $100 on Stacy), then realizing Mertie (the Bride) will probably give birth before another E. Nobber (as we call ourselves) walks down a non-grocery-related aisle and marries herself a man.

-Learning the truth about a certain someone’s level of sexual experience and being pleasantly surprised by how far she’s surpassed my expectations. Cheers to her (she knows who she is).

-Having the Bride whisper in my ear amidst a mass of mingling reception-goers, “I just want to go home and get fucked.” Amen, sister.

-Decorating the couple’s car at 5 a.m.—a task that involved much fence-climbing, saran-wrapping, toilet-papering, condom-flinging, “wanna spoon?” spooning, and mud-bathing (hats off to Stacy, who subsequently began the pants-dropping).

-Receiving a (random) phone call from a long ago ex-boyfriend—drunk on a night of bachelor-partying—suddenly struck by an alcohol-induced urge to dial my number after four years of not.

-Leading an explicit discussion about the finer points of performing oral sex (complete with anatomy lesson and hand motions) with Mertie’s family less than five feet away, thrilled to finally be broaching these previously unwelcome-by-Mert subjects but somewhat hesitant in light of the familial proximity. (The inappropriate nature of this conversation may only be outdone by the infamous Cell-Phone-As-Prop Masturbation Explanation of 2003, which I delivered with assistance from the lovely and knowledgeable Miss Tasha.)

All-in-all, a successful weekend. Congratulations go out to Mertie and Josh. Better you than me.