Guys. I’m going to my first real wedding this weekend. It makes me feel so adult, mostly because the last wedding I attended was as a four-year-old flower girl dressed in a velvet frock. Now I have an actual boyfriend and will be allowed to drink the adult apple juice. Did I mention I’m excited?!?! It’s the wedding of someone who I’ve never met (Jack’s cousin) and also in a city I’ve never been to (Philadelphia), so it should be really fun. We’re staying overnight Saturday and heading back Sunday afternoon, but I’m just excited to see Jack (!!!) and dance (!!!) and wear my new dress and necklace (in gold).
But honestly, since when am I old enough to be attending a wedding? It got me thinking on the subway this morning about my lovely girlfriends and attending their (future) weddings. Wasn’t it just yesterday that we were getting drunk in Daga and stuffing our faces with zeppolis and buying goldfish at Walmart and being really awkward? I miss them so much and I can’t help but think life would be a little easier if we were all still cohabiting a tiny suite in some little town so we could complain about our jobs instead of classes and boyfriends instead of frat guys with glasses of wine instead of vodka mixed with Pepsi from the vending machine. Those girls have my heart and loved me through my absolute best and downright worst. Therefore we are soul mates 4life. What I wouldn’t give for one of our infamous pre-parties complete with a GFR trip in the morning. Looking forward to the day when we’re all back together being us, aka the one who left us but still loved us, the one who was loud and obnoxious but kept us thoroughly entertained, the one who kept us from falling apart, the one who made sure everyone was having fun, the one who shared my love for CLIO, the one who was in CLIO and matched my wild side, the one who made us silly, the one who always looked perfect, and the one was inappropriate but always up for anything. You know who you are. ;) Marry me?