Last week I didn't work. I went to a wedding in Bogota, Colombia. My beautiful and wonderful Colombian friend from college married a beautiful and wonderful man from Minnesota. I briefly had the urge (as I do at most weddings where beautiful people my age are coming together) to drink too much wine and to become the kind of character that John Cusack would play in a movie. I'm not even jealous- it just seemed like this character should be present. But I figured that the parents wouldn't appreciate my screaming at the bride's bedroom window while standing in the rain, so I just enjoyed the hors d'ouvres.
The wedding was swank. I even wore a tuxedo- and I wasn't even in the wedding. I went to cocktail parties and mingled. I tried my best to not spill things on myself and I almost succeeded. I caught myself before asking for ketchup with the fillet mignon. I left my digital camera in Zambia and I managed to keep the Kodak "Fun Saver" hidden through the first two or three glasses of wine. Then my urge to record the event won out over my embarrassment.
So I went from the African bush to a central Minnesota convenience store to a penthouse cocktail party in South America and now I'm back to the Southside Mini Mart. I was actually a little dizzy while stocking pop last night. But I made it through and the Mini Mart didn't burn down. In a week or so I will be firmly back home.
The mignon was good, but so was that last bag of pork rinds. I even ate them with ketchup.
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