Nuptially speaking.

Yesterday, I went to a full Catholic mass wedding. I was a stranger in a strange land. Despite the fact that I was baptised, First Communed Catholic and I'm told I attended years of Sunday school, I have managed to forget everything I ever learned. To this day, every Easter I have to ask my mom why people are mad at Pontus Pilot because I just can't remember. And, I assume that is a function of me just not caring that much. I'm not a religious girl. As one of my friends explained, he was a CEO (Christmas and Easter Only) but otherwise a bedside baptist. I think that may be what I say going forward -- its easier than getting the many questions about really? You don't ever go to services? Nope, I don't. I don't know the proper way to cross yourself, what the refrains are, or what the hand-shaking phrase is. (I learned yesterday its
"peace be with you" but I suspect I will forget that in no time.)

Despite the fact that I don't get it, I always find such ceremonies educational. In addition to learning the handshake thing, I learned that adolation of the virgin continues and that Catholics aren't very arthritis-friendly. I also reminded myself that if I ever get married, I am having a destination wedding at most.

The wedding -- at St. Alphonsus in Chicago -- and the reception -- Harold Washington Library -- were lovely. (Another educational bit from yesterday was learning that the Library stop on the El is actually the Harold Washington Library, a beautiful public library at State and Van Buren.) I was the only single person at my table, another reason to love weddings. Thankfully, the alcohol flowed freely and the band was pretty good and danceable. Also, a photobooth was provided. I love photobooth pictues. And, this time, my friend and I came up with a plan for our four pictures, depicting our cheers to red wine, to champagne and sadness at empty glasses.