two weddings and a baby

Seems like we're always out-of-town these days.

Some of our trips have been obligation trips. But most have been "because we really really want to be there" trips. Last weekend was one of those.

We drove down to San Jose Thursday night and got to hang out with my brother and sister-in-law at the old Bux for a couple hours. Enjoying a few laughs over lattes. Then we headed to my in-laws where we were met with some pretty freakin' cool news--I'm going to be an aunt thanks to Matt and Anna's mad baby-making skills. I started crying right away, as did all the other women there, one of which can at least blame it on pregnancy hormones. But really, our little Moseley fam couldn't be more thrilled to be welcoming another tiny member.

Friday we attended one of the ritziest (is that a word?) weddings I've probably ever been to. And thankfully I didn't have to chase a little munchy munchkin around the whole time, since we dropped precious Goobie off with my parents that morning. But really, the wedding was gorgeous and made my own nuptual affair seem more WalMart-status next to this wedding's Martha Stewart-ness. There were even pearls hanging from trees.

I loved being a part--the bride is a Moseley family friend who Marty grew up with and I knew from church. The highlight, though? A fellow guest admitting to me that she wasn't wearing underwear, another admitting that her thong was riding up her butt, and Matt, my brother-in-law, chasing down the appetizer trays on behalf of his adorably pregnant wife.

Later, on the dance floor, I tried to shake it and failed miserably. I should really stop trying--I STILL look like a duck trying to whistle when I dance.

Saturday held wedding number two in honor of one of my dearest friends from high school, Mrs. Mary Christine Virginia Baynhem Pitts Wilcox. No joke. But my sweet Christie looked fabulous.

The festivities were held in Monterey, so my best friend from high school, Amanda, and her husband Ryan, tagged along with Marty and I in our beastly truck. On the way there, we had to stop and pee, a detour during which one of our Amanda and Becky Adventures readily ensued. Seriously, weird things happen to us. Let's just say we laughed so hard we almost had to pee all over again. Icky icky.

Funny how when I hang out with my high school buds, it's easy to revert back to my goofy, slightly annoying and loud-mouthed high school self. My pal Nathan was there, and we enjoyed laughing over watery margaritas and salted rims on plastic cups. Laughing AT the people who were drunk within five minutes of us being there, the people who cheered at every little thing and tried to dance while holding their beer. Beats us trying to entertain ourselves in ninth grade by dressing up like Christian punks and walking the local mall.

So walking back to our car in Monterey, even if we weren't walking in a straight line, we passed California's very first theater. And being the drama buff that I am, I had to stop and pose. See, I played the leading lady in all of my high school's musicals, and most of the plays we performed. If ever you want some quality blackmail on me, my mom still has a video tape of me belting out a song or two as Little Orphan Annie, curly red wig and all. Broadway, I'd kiss your hand if you had one to kiss.

So, fun weddings and fun times. Marty and I looked fabulous in our get-up. We bought Marty a suit for his birthday, so technically a "birthday suit". Gray and a paisley black silk tie and a good-smelling-ness. I wore an adorable pink silky vintage dress, and at least tried to get my hair to cooperate and be twisted and pulled off to the side to complete my vintage look. Blood, sweat, and bobby pins notwithstanding, I think we really can dress up when we bother putting in the effort.

So, Sunday. Lunch at my parents' house. Yellow shirts. All my sisters lovingly patting each other's legs.

After a long but very fun weekend, we headed home to celebrate a little alone time. Yes, we were sad to leave.

But considering our track record so far this summer, another getaway is on the horizon. Four are coming up within the next month to be exact. So if you come a-knockin' and we don't come a-answerin', we're probably off enjoying another rendevous.

Let's hope they're all as good as this one was. With just as many puke-flavored smoothies and shoe-matchy emergencies. Sigh.