Where are we?

I was ten minutes late to a fifteen minute wedding.

It probably should be noted that I am generally ten minutes early OR late for all things. I can never arrive on time. This time it happened to be ten minutes late. Apparently, a very important ten minutes.

We slid into the pew just in time to see the "I do's." The more I thought about it, the more it occurred to me what perfect timing this was. We merely skipped all the fluff and got right to the meat of it. Weddings are too long anyway. The church looked like the inside of Noah's Ark. Only, as Andrea pointed out, if Noah's Ark collided with The Poseidon Adventure. We wonder why we have terrible luck, this is why. I have been known to mock church inside church, and I really think God is pissed. Plus, I don't think He likes fornicators. At least that's what I've been told.

The most often heard phrase from me all night was, "Where are we?"

The answer? The middle of East Kabumfuck Nowhere. Population: 2.

There was a man whittling on his front porch as we passed. Whittling. Who knew people even did that anymore? And the road turned into dirt at one point. My GPS's head exploded. (I want a GPS that will yell at me, not just "recalculating route" but one that will go, "Bitch! Where the hell are you going? I told you left! I'm done with this shit.")

The view from the top was unbelievable. Mountains everywhere. But still, I decided the minute I heard a banjo I was getting the hell out of there. Congratulations Johnny and Heather. See ya. You be chopped up into a million pieces, I'm going back to the city.

The reception was fun. Beer and jell-o shots and Andrea almost breaking an ankle (actually, the jury is still out on that one. Might be broken. Looked pretty swollen. There's a lesson here kids: don't play wiffle ball in heels) and fire dancing. All in all, a fun time was had. And then I had to drive back down the scary, freaky dark, dirt road back to civilization.

I'm happy to back in the city. Where there are buildings instead of barns, and people instead of cows. As the great Ben Lee once said, "I was thinking about the city, it's living proof people need to be together."

Well said, Ben.