When I go back in time to figure out when exactly my liver started to fail me, this past weekend would probably be as good a starting place as any other time. But I guess when you have a wedding, a birthday and Folsom Street Fair to celebrate, knowledge and logic go out the window. Or at least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.
The weekend started off tame enough; friend from Japan was in town until Saturday afternoon, so we had a chill Friday night, dinner and wine around the ‘hood, and had an early day anyway, since my call time was 8am for my clinic’s volunteer orientation the next day. Had to ditch that early to make it to my friend Larry and his beau’s sail boat wedding, and my friend Susan was picking me up @ 2:15.
It was such a gorgeous day for a sailboat wedding. The afternoon temperature high was in the low 90s, though a gentle breeze from time to time made sure that it was bearable.
This was the third non-Filipino wedding that I’ve been to, and the second wedding that I’ve attended that involved one of my classmates. I guess we’re getting to that stage of our lives. Oh, snap, does that mean that I have to start growing up? I digress.
The wedding party was dressed in a nautical theme, down to matching sunglasses, belts, and the whole nine, which I thought was such a classy touch (way to go, bride-zilla… ahem, Larry). Paul’s son (and one of his best men) played a Led-Zeppelin inspired interpretation of Canon in D with his electric guitar; man, that 14 year-old boy is going to be trouble (if he’s not already). The girl next to me was balling her eyes out, so either the ceremony was very sweet and touching or she was just one big crybaby; I’d say it was the former.
Sail boat weddings are such great ideas; something about being at sea (or I guess in this case, bay) and nuptials seem to just work. Maybe it’s the openness, or the symbolism of the voyage that the couple is about to embark upon, with their love acting as the main sail that will direct the course of their paths together as partners. Just FYI for those who are contemplating sailboat weddings in the future: it goes without saying that a summer wedding would probably be the best time to have it, and if you’re going to do it, that means end of September/mid October is your best bet.
On to the reception – where the real fun begins! Bubbly, you’ve always been my nefarious nemesis, and you strike once more! I had a great time with my “date” Allison even if you were such a cheap date; well, not as cheap as Susan, who was blurry after 4 sips of the margarita =p And those lemon cakes were AMAZING! Man, if weddings do one thing right, it would be cakes.
Luckily, this wedding didn’t have the usual horrors (Macarena, line dancing, YMCA), but they did do the train and I definitely didn’t partake in that! We did however, danced to some groovy music, and even did a little “Single Ladies” dancing; Liza Minelli would’ve been proud.
Bottles of champagne and endless pitchers of margaritas later, somehow, I managed to make it out of Tres Agaves alive just in time to cut in with Krystal, Katie, and Nikolai for Joel’s 25th birthday celebration at Roe the same night. At that point, I remember bits and pieces from the night, but mostly good memories. I saw my friends who I haven’t seen in awhile, so that was good.
Sunday was all about a different kind of love. I met up with my friend Vannida and her friends Gina and Katie for some afternoon delight @ Folsom Street Fair. Or as my friend Vannida calls it, “San Francisco’s equivalent of church.” Well, the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence were certainly there spreading the love and the protesters armed with their affable “Jesus-loves-you” placards certainly made their presence known.
It definitely was neither for the faint-hearted nor the flinchers, but I guess that’s just par for Folsom’s course. The rest of Sunday’s events were not suitable for children under 18 (though someone was enjoying the festivities with her baby (who couldn’t have been older than 18 months) in a baby sling; in her flimsy defense, at least it was made out of leather). Heck, for professional reasons, it’s probably not suitable for anyone over 18 for that matter. I guess you’ll just have to dig that one out of me.
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