I just received my first New Job™ paycheck. That means it’s official, I really do work here. For those from the New Job™ reading this, I thought I deserved more, too [insert winking smiley face emoticon].
Also, the wedding was awesome… though I could tell you a few stories about an outdoor wedding in Sacramento in July.
One commentor (see below), which, by the way, statistically accounts for roughly 84.37% of my total readership, wants to know about the weddings in July in Sacramento. Therefore:
Here’s the thing about weddings in July in Sacramento:
They are hot.
Blisteringly hot would not be an overstatment judging by the friends of the groom first bubbling, blistering, and then bursting into flames… which doesn’t help matters, of course. The additional heat, you see. These are things that don’t help weddings in July in Sacramento:
.: being outdoors
.: being before sundown… so much before sundown, in fact, that you might call it sun-not-down-but-instead-residing-comfortably-on-your-shoulder
.: wearing a tux
.: said tux not being the powder blue ruffled-shirt variety with Love Boat-esque cabana shorts, but instead the undershirt, shirt, vest, and black jacket variety created in what I can only assume was some kind of ultra-thick wool designed for heat absorption.
.: locking your knees convulsively despite your best efforts not to.
Upon walking down the aisle and waiting for the bride to arrive, I immediately noticed that the striated shadow-patterns created by a row of palm trees in the distance had conveniently left me smack in a sunbeam… or several sunbeams… it is, in fact, fair to say that I was gang-raped by sunbeams.
I immediately started to think about what would happen if I passed out. “Should I fall on the best man, or fall toward that unicorn? Will anyone notice? Am I really about to pass out? I think I’m about to pass out, should I tell someone? Should I say ‘excuse me’ and then pass out? What, exactly, is the passing out protocol?” This was, of course, mostly predicated by me just thinking about it (in the same way, incidentally, that I managed to get x-ray vision, but that’s another story). To continue:
Luckily, there was no breeze to distract me. There was, however, sweat. Strangely, concentrating on how a river of sweat was running down my entire body took my attention away from the passing out, and left me fairly stable. Those in the shade stood cooly (realtively) by, whilst myself, and to a lesser extent Crob next to me, dealt with the puddles forming in our shoes. Luckily, the bride’s entrance sufficiently distracted all of the guests enough so that, with exchanged glances, we could both whip out clothes and soak up some of the deluge.
And then came the ceremony. With the rings and the shirt sticking to my back, and the I do’s with the hair on my calves literally burning due to teh molten pants cloth laying against them, and the kiss the bride with the rubber soles of my shoes bonding to my toes.
And then relief. Blessed, blessed relief.