Dry run

S and I went to a friend's wedding this weekend.

While I was there, slowly depleteting the bar of its ample stock of rye, it really hit home that in less than a month I'll be doing all of this again, only from a slightly different viewpoint.

After spending about five minutes sitting in the church this weekend I had completely sweated through my shirt. I looked, and smelt, like I'd spent the afternoon sumo wrestling on the front porch. And this was just me wearing a regular shirt and jacket. For my own wedding the male portion of the bridal party will be wrapped in four layers of thick wool.

You remember wool don't you? Nature's suffocating, heat absorbing, creation.

I'm envisioning at least one fainting and a fatality.

Note to groomsmen. I'm...sorry?

Anyway it was a very nice wedding. I got to play pool, drink and 'dance' for free. What more could you ask for?

But after watching the groom's father deliver his speech, it made me realize that I'm going to have a quick heart to heart with my own dad. I don't think I want to be reffered to as 'sensitive' in front of all the assembled family and friends, no matter how true it may be.