August 13th, 2008
|11:02 am - It's a nice day for a white wedding...|
It's a nice day to start again.
I'm going to go over my very busy run of the last few weeks. There were a lot of events. I will list them here.
My father was in town for the last 2 weeks of July with his wife and my baby sister. I threw a bachelor party for a friend on the 2nd of August. On Friday, I attended a wedding for that friend and his now-wife (also my friend). The very next day I saw Dan (arcane) in a play and then halfheartedly and distractedly said goodbye to him before he moved to Atlanta.
I'm gonna run through these events in an order that does not actually match up to what I just said.
When describing my friends a while ago, I mentioned White Steve and Off-White Stephanie, the Wisconsin couple befriended by the Neckbeards around New Year's. They've been engaged since before we met them, and we were all invited to the wedding and all of that good stuff. Everyone expected to go, and that was very cool.
Unfortunately, Steve's brother completely and totally failed to throw a decent bachelor party (Steph was present, for starters; Steve did not enjoy himself at all), and this was simply unacceptable... to Stephanie. Steph truly loves her man, so she enlisted Aaron (Steve's closest locally-present friend) to throw him a real bachelor party. Aaron, busy with work and school, outsourced this task to Dima and I -- the Neckbeards Party Planning Committee -- despite our complete lack of experience with the concept of a bachelor party (Dima had never been to one, and I had been to one truly terrible and boring bachelor party in my life).
So Dima and I went to Greg, our most worldly and tale-wise friend, and enlisted his help. He was more than happy to give us inspiration, at which point we reached deep within ourselves and found that we already knew what we had to do. The power to throw an awesome bachelor party was always within us -- we just had to let it out.
Greg's formula for a good bachelor party was fairly straightforward. You start in the daytime, and make the first event something physical and active so that people can get that testosterone out of their system before they start drinking and get a good sweat on early in the day. Dima's brilliant plan was to take us all out to play Broomball, which you play on an ice rink without skates using pre-prepared brooms. There were six of us (myself, Dima, Steve White, Steve Perry, Aaron, and Jason), and everyone fell at least one time except Jason. Steve Perry (heretofore referred to as Earclops so that he is not confused with White Steve) fell the most because he and I were playing goalie, and Dima was a damn dynamo on the ice, so Earclops was constantly harried. I fell flat on my belly twice, which was funny. We were all worn out quite easily because we are fat and out of shape, and once the game was over I pulled a groin muscle trying not to fall. It's been bugging me for friggin' weeks.
Afterward, we went to Ipanema, a Brazilian steakhouse (this was my idea). They bring various meats around on skewers, and so long as you have your card up and turned to Green, they keep offering delectable goodies. We all ate like gluttons, filling ourselves up with meat, pineapple, and fried bananas. Everyone agreed that it was rad.
We walked to Kells, a local Irish bar that Dima had located, and drank ourselves silly (but not blotto). There was much toasting and telling of tales, and everyone was happy. Afterward we went to the Deja Vu a couple blocks away.
The Vu is a well-known local strip club, but Dima and I have never been strip club guys. Neither of us had ever been to one, so we leaned heavily on Greg's advice and went to one he'd recommended. It wasn't a bad experience, but from what I've told strip clubs in Washington suck because of all of the rules imposed on them by local government, and other states have it much better. I will probably never have a basis for comparison; I don't plan on making a habit of going. But Steve was very, very happy with the results of the evening. We later retired to the Shire for a couple more beers and some cigars, and everyone was completely worn out, which is what you want in a bachelor party.
The wedding was six days later on Friday, and it was a very nice service held in a gazebo at a Kirkland waterfront park. The Unitarian minister led a quick and pleasant service interrupted by a toddler who would not shut the hell up and whose parents were incapable of understanding the ten-second rule for fussy children at a wedding, but otherwise it was nice. Then came the reception, which was a drunken Irish gathering of the best kind, and I got well and truly hammered to honor my friends. I am a chatty drunk, but hey... at least I'm a happy drunk.
After telling that story, I find I really don't want to tell the others. My dad coming out for two weeks was great, and I miss him already -- he's awesome and I love him. Dan leaving... I'm not at all happy about that, though I'm happy that he's taking his life by the horns and steering it where he wants it to go. I just miss my friend already.
Current Mood: blah