So, two of my friends from college got married, and it's always so much fun when you know both parties in the wedding, because then the likelihood that you know most of the guests (And have drunk multiple kegs of Guinness with them. And have even dated one of them.) grows astronomically higher. The wedding was in a small town outside of St. Paul - actually in the church where 5 previous generations of the bride's family have gotten married.
There were lakes and trees and all sorts of gorgeous nature to see, but the men were really captivated by this sign:
(It says "Kathe Wohlfahrt." Basically a really bad fart joke.)
I, however, was pleased to see that the town of Stillwater had parked appropriate cars along the road for my enjoyment. See?
I like it when towns do nice things like that for me. More should.
And. That's a car I would LOVE. I'm not really a car girl, but that one really makes me happy.
Then. After the rehearsal, we had a fun dinner at a little Italian place. The Italian place with the Pomegranate Martinis. BUT. Parked outside of the restaurant was a truck. A LOVELY truck. All decorated so as to be mistaken for a Counter Terrorism Unit truck. I have no words to describe the motivation behind doing this to your vehicle.
Yeah. That's the back. The decals were ALL OVER the damn thing.
But inside the building that you see in the background? Pom Martinis! Which consist of: equal parts Pomegranate Liqueur (the bar had this stuff), and Limoncello, and a splash of sour mix. Maybe two shots each, and then the splash. Ok, it's not really a recipe, but more of a list of ingredients and a guess about amounts. Oh yeah. Shake them all in a shaker with ice, then strain into a martini glass. Garnish with a lemon twist, drink, and enjoy!
Then, the wedding:
Matt and I looked nice. Matt was a groomsman, and men always look awesome in tuxes, and I was wearing a very pretty black, beaded dress that absolutely bruised the crap out of my arms.
That bottom part of the cap sleeves? Yeah, they didn't exactly give. At all. When I took off the dress, it looked like I'd had rubber bands around my arms the entire night. And three days later, I was asked who had grabbed me roughly like that, to leave those horrendous bruises.
But, I was lucky. The alcohol I was consuming kept me from noticing that the dress was hurting me, so I still had a fabulous time. And I danced the entire night.
And. One of the best weddings ever. You can even see the beautiful bride in the background.
Additionally, it was nice to leave this:
And go and hang out with good friends.