With This Candle - I Thee Light

So, I need to preface the weekend antics with the fact that Heather, the bride I flew back to Buffalo for, looked absolutely beautiful and so did the temple and the reception mansion. Although we had a few "adventures" at the reception, it was great fun and truly a beautiful and special occasion that I'm thrilled to have been a part of. And, no, I'm not just saying that because she reads this thing - I mean it. I do have a sensitive side, you guys. Bite me.

Anywho, Saturday was the main event. The ceremony was at the temple and the reception immediately followed at this beautiful historic mansion in downtown Buffalo. And did I mention is was black tie? It was - and, I might add, my friends and I were looking H-O-T. And I am not using that word to describe us as a pun - let's just call it "foreshadowing".

So after the ceremony, we headed to the mansion where we were greeted by a room full of food, booze and amazing candles and orchids everywhere. We grabbed a table and of course some food and champagne and began our evening. As we were sitting there enjoying our delectable treats, we started to smell something not-so-pleasing. Smelled kind of like burning rubber (which reminds me of being in elementary school and it smelled like that everytime they were cooking tater tots - don't ask me - no clue). All of a sudden, Kara shoves her hand to the middle of the table and yelps, "THE TABLE'S ON FIRE!" It was as if life went into slow motion. I looked over at Elena, Elena looked at me, we looked at her camera bag which was DEFINITELY en fuego and the giant flames shooting out of the center of the table. Of course, I never did put down my glass of champagne. We all just kind of stared at it for a moment as if mezmorized by the flaming conflagration. Finally, Kara's husband had the ability (or sobriety) to grab the burning bag, and throw it onto the ground and stomped it out. Because let's be honest, the paper napkins that Elena was using just weren't helping. At last, all was normal again and we were left with a melted camera bag and some excellent looking scars on the tablecloth. Oops. Of course, it was nothing a little rearranging of the flowers and such couldn't help. (Sorry Heather.)

But it only gets better. Elena was rather mortified because besides her act of arson, she had also gotten her heel caught in the air conditioning grate wearing a cream dress which, since the ac was on, blew up kind of like Marilyn Monroe in front of a number of the guests. Classic - and for once, not me! Anywho, after the firestarter went to go videotape the bride and groom's first dance with her partially-charred video camera, she came sprinting back to the table. Out of breath she said, "I'm not the only one! Some lady just" and before she could get it out of her mouth, the smell hit. The heinous, disgusting smell of burnt hair. Sure enough, one of the guests, primped out in a weebit too much hairspray had a Michael Jackson moment and set her hair on fire. Luckily, the smell dissipated within moments and the guest was not injured. Nothing a little champagne can't help. I saw her later and could barely tell! And the candles and ambiance were not injured either.

The evening ended with a typical Rachel moment, though. SOMEHOW we convinced the band to allow me to sing "I Will Survive", our high school mantra, with the live band. This was no karaoke - it was real people! I am confident that I nailed it because no one threw stuff at me and no one lit me on fire. In my book? That's a huge plus. Heather's mom called me a "ham" and you know what? She's 110% right - even after all these years, she still knows me well.

So, another one bites the dust. Another blissful wedding another man and woman out of the dating pond. At least I still have my California girls to keep me company - it's a big pond. I need lots of company!