I Now Pronounce You Punk and Rock

There was a whole lotta marrying going on this weekend. Fuji-San (aka Judge Injury) and The-Now-Officially-Mrs.-Fujimoto are now...official. I've been to a handful of really good weddings-as-events, but only two which I loved as weddings-as-weddings, the marriage of improv power couple Shalene (purely a career move if you ask me) and this one. The whole weekend (which actually started with a glass of Glenlivet at the Hyatt Regency on Thursday as we waited for the shuttle to the Horseshoe Hammond) was amazingly fun - more than enough to get a cynic to gush.

What makes a good wedding-as-wedding? It's simple and not particularly revelatory. If you do it by the book as everyone does, then you may have a good event. When you dye your hair purple, have artichokes in your bouquet and name your tables after punk bands (I was a Ramone. Jealous?) instead of numbers, then you have a kickin' wedding. Doesn't hurt when John Jughead is the minister either.

Ninety-percent of the readership of Debaclypse Now has heard the stories of my weekend or was actually in attendance, so here are the highlights, observations and generally those things jostling for posterity in my head:
  • Weddings, even great ones, make me at least a little bit depressed. (That's right, I'm starting off on a positive!) Not because it's not me up there, but more because I tend to miss the people I don't get to see often when I see them at such events even more than when I'm not seeing them at all. Also there is usually a person or two who I hang out with who I totally wish I had gotten to know better at some earlier point in my life. Rebecca S. wins this weekend's prize for that.
  • If you do not already have a crush on Liz from Even in Blackouts, I suggest you get moving on it. And not just because she's pretty either. She's an infectious and ingratiating performer. If I ever have a dinner party I think I'll invite her so that when I screw things up people will just remember how cool it was hanging with Lizzie. And I saw the girls lingering around her even more than the guys during cocktail hour, so it's not just me.
  • I like toasting. Sure it's because I kinda like the spotlight, but let's face it, my self-worth is pretty heavily determined by whether I am able to be funny. The fact that I was given the chance to do it up for two dear friends at their wedding, well that's all the better.
  • What I don't like is giving video testimonials when I'm drunk. Logan, who I will gladly give a plug to as the talented videographer, had asked me to say something on camera early in the evening. I procrastinated. And I drank. Ugh. Sorry guys for whatever I said. I think I made fun of the bride's first ever gift to the groom. I had planned on some joke about the fact that since their children will be half-Asian we should try to make at least one of them the Tiger Woods of bowling. I'm not sure if the joke ever came to fruition.
  • I miss Phil.
  • In a brief You Got Served moment (the sound of breakdancing smack talk was in the air), Windy City Roller ass-kicker and ├╝ber-Chicagoan Val Capone put me in a headlock. Never fear, this is not going in the evandebacle-gets-off-getting-beaten-up-by-girls direction. All I have to say is that I now firmly believe that, should I ever have to be killed by someone's bare hands, I hope they are Val's. She is just, and from the acute pressure applied by her arm onto my cervical vertebrae, justice would be swift and painless.
  • There needs to be an online petition to get butternugget to start a custom cake business. Oh wait, here's one.
  • I violated my personal rule about no tobacco smoking on American soil by having a cigar at the bachelor party.

Mostly I'd just like to redeem my videotaped debacle and again wish the happy couple much love and awesomeness in their marriage. xoxo evandebacle


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