PrixMadonna

�Cups�s wedding was Saturday night, and it was a party, people. When you have socialites of that caliber throwing a shindig, you know it�s going to be a class act. They did not disappoint.

First of all, Red5 and I were running late. As if this were any surprise. Seriously, we cannot get out the door together with any semblance of organization.

The wedding was out in the middle of the countryside, and the hub underestimated the time it would take to get there, and I had my cranky on because it was too damn hot for the ensemble I had chosen but it was just too late to do anything about it except bitch, bitch, bitch. And sweat.

And let me just mention that these circumstances do not present a good moment to bring up �Remember how you were late to our wedding?� to your wife. No points there, my friends.

So we pull up to the joint at exactly 5 o�clock (the time the service is supposed to start), and since it was outdoors at a lovely site of an old mill , we had to drive by everybody already seated and then run across the gravel in heels (me, not the hub, that is) to the waiting groomsmen who so debonairly escorted us to our seats. (Which they had to move to put two together because we were so late. Always a grand entrance maker am I.) �Cups was mocking my tardiness, of course, but it also gave us an opportunity to wish him luck and tell him he looked dashing in the tux and black Converse All Stars.

Well, the ceremony was just lovely out in front of an artfully crumbling stone wall upon which a wreath of �Cups and Piles�s initials was hung. The boys were adorable standing in line, looking handsome and mischievous in their tuxes and sneakers. There were lovely bridesmaids in a very deep purply brown color, the exact color of a ripe eggplant, with flowers in orange and purple and yellow.

Piles was just beautiful with her sparkly tiara and jeweled veil and gorgeous flowers and her stunning strapless gown that laced up the back. She just floated down the grassy aisle to the sound of strings, and I cried.* I couldn�t even contain the sobs. The hub just looked at me and shook his head.

Cups had such a huge smile on his face, from ear to ear. I�ve never seen him so happy.

They had a reading from Neruda and a very well-spoken officiant who quoted Black Elk of the Ogala Sioux during the ring part of the ceremony and said, �Let us contemplate,� and we had a moment of meditation and it was all very nice and spiritual without being religious.

And then they were Mr. and Mrs. Cups, and it occurred to me again how in just a few moments you go from being one thing to being something different and how marriage is one of the few rites of passage we have in our culture and how much we could use other little markers of time and change like this.

And then it was time to party.

We all filed into the reception area where they had appetizers and a lovely bar area (which was much more popular than the appetizer area, cause it was that type of crowd) with the signature cocktail of the evening: Peach Absolut with sour mix, cranberry juice and 7-Up, my new best friend, but I digress.

The reception area was freestyle seating, which was very nice and a refreshing change to the dreaded seating charts, and allowed everyone to circle and move about and chat and eat and drink with many people. There was dancing and Tom Foolery and a groom�s cake that was a Boba Fett and tasted of rich chocolate and cinnamon. And we had a lovely time with Grip Shift and Mrs. Grip Shift and other people we�ve met through Mr. and Mrs. Cups who are very nice and friendly and amusing and like to dance and make proper asses of themselves.

Partway through the reception Mrs. Cups changed into white Chucks so she could shake her thang with a vengeance, and Cups�s younger brother is a mean break dancer and did some kick ass moves across the floor.

We got to meet Cups�s parents, who are crazy fun, and which explain a lot about �Cups. And Mr. �Cups (the elder) recognized us immediately as Red5 and MadDawg and danced for us without moving his feet, which requires a whole lot of rump shakin�. We also got to meet the Baddest Man on the Planet (BMP) who put Red5 in a headlock, you know, just to say he had it done.

And some people told the hub and I we were good dancers, which means we are getting better at faking it and that I am leading, though after a short while the dancing moved to full-out move-bustin� and you didn�t have to look like you knew what you were doing at all. Which, of course, is the most kind of fun, and there was plenty of it.

And now they are married and off in Mexico basking in the glow of being married and throwing a fabulous party and starting this life together, and it makes me very happy to see PimpCups so excited and happy and full of love.

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* I cried at my own wedding, and I have cried at every one I've attended since.

Our officiant said during our ceremony that every wedding ceremony is an opportunity to revisit one�s own vows, which is a nice thing to remember, I think. This is part of the reason I can never not cry at weddings.

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