Marriage Is Like An Eggbeater...

Good evening. We are gathered here today to witness as I join some things I did last week in holy blogimony.

Newsflash: my two best friends from 3rd grade --Katie and Christine--recently got married. Not to each other, although that would have made my life considerably easier, as they both decided to do the ring thing on the exact same weekend. While attending two weddings in one weekend is a great excuse to drink and dance, being a bridesmaid in two weddings in one weekend is a good excuse to drink... and drink... and maybe drink one more...and then pass out under the DJ table.

Bridesmaiding for a friend is, of course, a great honor. But with great honor comes great responsibility, or so I have learned from a number of fortune cookies and movies featuring old chinese men. Responsibirrity... er, responsibility is cool and all... its just not really my "thing." So I was stressed enough when I learned a year ago that I'd be donning two dresses this past weekend, and then again several months ago when I agreed to sing a song for each wedding. In the weeks leading up to marriageapalooza, I was also asked to give a toast at Katie's wedding, the second of the two. At this point I considered wearing a name tag, since the wedding guests would be seeing so much of me that they might be confused who was actually getting married. But of course I was happy to comply with both brides' wishes because I'm an awesome friend and they could be reading this. And so, three days before the first wedding, when I received a message from Christine asking if I could possibly write just a quick toast to our 15 year friendship, I agreed without hesitation.

The hesitation, as it turns out, turned up when I attempted to actually write said toast. I hadn't yet started the other toast I was supposed to be writing and my mental batteries were already sputtering...I needed a jump. Diving into a box of old photos, I examined 15 years worth of incriminating evidence, hoping the perfect anecdote would shake loose from the dense ball of crud that is my memory and float to the surface. No luck. With time running out, I succeeded in crafting a half-page stumble down memory lane that was heartfelt and humorous, if not particularly eloquent. I then spent the rest of the afternoon in front of a mirror rehearsing these heartfelt words into a large yellow flashlight. it was an illuminating experience...

Now, when I got Christine's message, my first inclination was not to recite a rehearsed speech. Instead, my mind went immediately to grade school-era afternoons with the bride-to-be, doing page after page of giggling, side-splitting, drool-inducing Mad-Libs. So when I arrived at the rehearsal dinner later that evening, I joked, "Can I do a Mad-Libs speech at your wedding?" And now she didn't hesitate: "Yes," she said simply, with a thoughtful nod.

And that's how I found myself sitting in the bridal suite mere hours before the ceremony, scribbling a new toast on hotel stationary. After a test flight involving Matthew McConaughey and a couple of arachnids, we were cleared for take off. The wedding was brief and beautiful, and the guests were enthusiatic and familiar with nouns. The toast hit only a minor snag, when my request for an adverb was met with blank expressions. Special thanks to the bride for saving me by shouting out, "Something that ends in -LY!!!!"

And now, with out further ado, I give you the greatest Mad-Libs wedding speech ever written:

Thank you all so much for being here today; this is a very [putrid] occasion. I'm so happy to see all of you here, although [Bon Jovi] called to say he couldn't make it. But he told me to tell you [Ayayayeeeeee!]
Now, marriage is like a [glockenspiel], you have to [run] or [barf] really hard to make it work. But I know Christine and Jason will be [beautiful] at it, because they love each other so [swimmingly].
I've known Christine for [87] years, since we were just a couple of [cows]. I'll always remember that time we dressed up and went to [Chicopee], or all the time we spent hanging out, watching [nuns] and eating [golumpki].
So Chris, I want you to know how very [red] I am for you today, as you and Jay become [fireplace] and [rhinocerous]. I love you both, and I hope you have a very [humongous] life together.


I assure you if you'd ever been to Chicopee, you would find that very funny. Now go in peace, my children. I hope you found this entertaining and spiritually fulfilling, but if not you can go [flashlight] yourself.