Reach for the stars...then reach for the snooze button

The wedding was a hit, and I had a blast.

I packed up Shazaam and dropped him off at the Wag Hotel, then, in a first, started packing up my clothes the night before since I knew I'd be awaking at the crack of dawn to BART to the airport. In trademark fashion, I forgot one critical item: my under eye cream. This was so not cool as we drank to abandon the night before the wedding, and I did have to take pictures as a member of the wedding party.

In any event, the airplane ride there went well with an Amy Schumer comedy special and a few other movies to tide me over. The dude next to me, who was relatively hot, had long legs and was a bit cozied up next to me, but I was practically thrilled to have the male physical contact. I did have to use the bathroom at one point, which was like being in the seventh circle of hell for a few minutes.

I arrived in DC, and cabbed it to the hotel. When I got out, I saw someone holding a bag with an animated Michelle Obama on a trapeze a la "Moulin Rouge," and thought, That's freaking hysterical. I looked up, and it was none other than VPA. We hugged and he said, "We're running behind," which was something of a relief, as I thought I'd barely make it in time for the rehearsal.

VPA's groomesmaids were Pejorative of the End Up, Fabiola of UC Berkeley, and Gretchen, his cousin. After the rehearsal, which was basically just us parterning up with another member of the wedding party and walking down the aisle to our seats, we had dinner and dranks in the President's Lounge at the top of the hotel. Our table, consisting of Pejorative and his man, Fabiola and her adorable America Farrera-like sister, and myself, was unquestionably the most raucous and fun, and we had a delightful evening, peppered with a few visits from Aunt Beatrice, VPA's Aunt from SD who had bonded with tequila that night and through the next.

Sometime before midnight and after I'd slammed back several cosmos, none other than Cora arrived. I gasped as I hadn't seen her in some five years, and went up to give her a hug. Whatevs. Let bygones be bygones.

The next morning, I met up with Aaron, and we had breakfast and trekked around the area for awhile before decompressing back at the hotel. My suit looked pretty damn good on me--and, perhaps more importantly, still fit. And it was off next door to the venue. I met up with Fabiola and her hysterical husband Darnell, and soon, the ceremony was underway. It is a rare thing to see VPA get emotional, but he did as soon as he and Maybelline started down the aisle and everyone stood for them, as well as during his vows.

Then it was the afterparty with booze flowing and hijinks ahappenin'. Not once did I even worry about possibly spotting Sean and Darryl, and to the best of my knowledge, they weren't there. After a few choice quotes from Fabi that immediately went onto FB, I finally tuckered out, and went back to my room.

The next morning, several of us went over to VPA's and Maybelline's to shoot the shiz and hang out, and giving myself my usual three-hour cushion when traveling, I eventually headed back to the hotel around 2:00, giving big hugs all around and genuinely regretting that I had to go.

The plane trip back was less whimsical, delayed by thirty minutes at the airport and seemingly several more once en route due to the damn weather. I was so depleted by the time I got back and picked up my luggage and discombobulated by the time change, I gave up bothering with BART and forked over for the fifty plus dollar cab ride home. Then I Uber'd over to pick up Shazaam, and tucked in for a full night's sleep.

I don't think I could have orchestrated a better time if I had the power to plan it all out myself. One of my co-workers mentioned how I seemed to "look good for a Monday" the day I got back, and I've no doubt that it was due in part to the great time with great people. I really wish I had another vacation in the works. If my promotion goes through and the cash flow increases, it's a possibility, but we'll have to see.