Nuptials in NW Florida

~And Other Filthy Sounding Adventures~

Except for the no money/security thing, being unemployed is pretty great. This recent trip marks the second time in my (so called adult) life that I've been able to indulge in an extended stay. I wanted these recap posts to be sensible, easy to follow, etc. But every time I begin composing those entries I lose the thread, get lost in mountains of words, and in general defeat myself before I even begin.

So you know what that means, kiddies!

What, BlatherBlahg?

More nonsensical meanderings and swiss cheesed narratives!

My second night there, me and my usual band of miscreants met at the usual place and did the usual thing. The Klesmerizers were reunited! Unfortunately, we didn't come ready to perform.

You gotta appreciate someone who brings their own grub to the bar. Go, fellow Klesmerizer, go!

Also a band member, and occasional road manager for the band. We don't get as many gigs as you might think.

Badly shopped pic of Table of Doom. Our party was too large, so we had to switch to back up benches and scoot them together. Altered to protect the Guilty and the Even Guiltier.

So, some other things happened which I will discuss later. That Thursday saw me headed for my first "destination" wedding at the Bonne Terre house in Seacrest, FL. (Please note, half the "beach" names in NW FL are pure shite. These people just make up a name for the plot of land they've plunked their rental mansions on. I'm pretty sure "Seacrest" doesn't really exist in any county registry anywhere).

The front.

The back.

 I've lived in beach towns and stayed at my share of condos and hotels and what have you. But this place was amazing. Literally right on the beach, with gorgeous and plentiful accommodations. Plenty of bathrooms, plenty of seating, amazing views, and a general sense of serenity.

First floor back deck.

View from second floor back porch. Not even a promotional pic. Just me with my little camera. Feel very free to turn green and vomitous with envy.

In a moment of extreme sagacity, the betrothed couple put their friends in the upstairs half, and their family in the downstairs half. I haven't felt like such a kid since sitting at the tiny fold out table at Thanksgiving. But as noted above, it was a decision that turned out to be very wise.

My bedroom.

My shared lavatory, joining my room to the Two J's.

 I had my own boudoir, with a super fluffy bed. I got really spoiled by beds this trip, and it saddens me. For I'm in no position to change my current bedding condition. I shared a bathroom (that is as long as my entire apartment) with two of Hotsauce's friends from Maryland. God bless married men, they have such good bathroom etiquette. 

Wedding decorations that came on the largest of three truckloads we unpacked that day. That's right: 3. Truckloads. At least I didn't get roped into setting it up like these poor lads.

The energy in the house was hectic, as it always is before a wedding. I helped as much as I could, but scenes like this always reach the point where there are too many chiefs and not enough Indians. And the chiefs are on the warpath. So I helped really hard where I could, and dipped inside when I felt extraneous. Which ended up being quite often on the last day before the wedding.

Despite the crazy aura of Wedding that permeates such things, the house was remarkably soothing. Non-family guests hung out, starved, subsisted off of beer during the days, and just sort of drifted around.

Easy like Sunday morning. Looking back, I should have arranged a poker tourney.

I love knowing that this picture has a mate somewhere out there, equally silly. It's like Blackhawk and I each have a part of story.

The big day arrived, and all the family's frantic work really paid off. The house was decorated beautifully. The bower on the beach looked amazing. The groom ended up getting ready in my bathroom, which drove me into another bathroom. But I ducked back in to get a final shot of him as a single man.

My Boy, Hotsauce.

Gorgeous dress, gorgeous girl, lucky guy, dreamy wedding. Sickening, no?

Hotsauce grabbed me right before the ceremony and asked a favor. So I got the interesting job of "rosing" the bed. I could've sworn I had pix of that, but then again there were so many camera phones and gadgets around that there is no telling where that photo ended up. 

We got three hours of music from a stainless steel drums/guitar combo--I've known the drummer for years. The whole reception was kind of like that: either people you've known for decades or absolute strangers. An interesting mix. My friends tink and jdog flew in for a visit and came over for the party. My little seester broke it down AWESOMELY to the William Tell Overture. It was the most epic dancing I've seen since the Crocodile Rock of Halloween '05. That girl can work it. 

Like most receptions, you never get to spend enough time with all the people you'd like, because there are so many things going on. But that is the sign of a good party, I think. I did get to spend a fair amount of time with the below deviant. We got convo-bombed by somebody with a loud and abrupt question about breastfeeding, milk pumping, and other personal inquiries. It was a good thing I had champagne in one hand, cake in the other, and a straight whiskey on the sideboard, because by the time my friend started a  "WTF?" commentary under her breath, I was having difficulties keeping a straight face.

Pure, delicious, scientific evil. I love it.

In another moment of Unadulterated Awesomeness, my leetle seester went downstairs for the throwing of the bouquet. It's not really her thing, so I was surprised to see her pull a Matrix-esque acrobatic move to catch the flowers. She dropped forward over one knee, snaked her hand out and snatched that thing up. Then with amazing grace she spun, went down on one knee, and handed the flowers to the four year old girl standing behind her. That kid's face lit up like a Christmas tree. Turns out the little one had expressed her extreme desire for the bouquet as they were standing around, and my sis promised to try and catch it on her behalf. I wish to hell I had videotape of that. 

It was beautiful weather, beautiful decorations. No one fell in the pool. The bride and groom seemed happy. Pretty much a success.