No, not THAT (although I do). I spent my Labor Day weekend amongst the rolling hills of Galena, IL, the occasion for which was the wedding of an old, dear friend of mine from high school. A person whom I don't see often (enough), but whom I can always pick right up where we left off.
It had been almost a year and a half since I've been this far from Chicago proper, and although I get nervous when I leave densely populated urban environments, it was really nice to be out in the "country", miles from, well, anything.
The Eagle Ridge Resort is massive; 4 golf courses, a hotel/lodge and rental properties scattered over what seemed liked forever. My home for the weekend was appropriately named The Mansion. Holy Shit, this place was dope!
12 bedrooms, each with a marble lined bathroom complete with it's own each jacuzzi tub, and a giant walk in shower. There was a pool table, air hockey, an outdoor hot tub, a full bar and other awesome shit. I flet like I was on an episode of MTV's Cribs.
And me and 50+ people, all heavily consuming alcohol under this roof. Crazy. The rehearsal dinner took place here too and about, oh, 90 people attended. So imagine my shock/horror/surprise that before that began, it was announced by the Bride, that "we have another celebration today", meaning the birthday of yours truly!
I'm not a big birthday guy, and I HATE being the center of attention, especially in front of so many strangers, but they all sung me Happy Birthday, and I even got my very own cake! It was pretty amazing.
Afterward, we all PAR-TAY-ED! Seriously, you couldn't keep me out of that hot tub if you tried. I simply jumped in wear almost only my birthday suit, and was promptly joined by several attractive, topless women. It was P-I-M-P. And...we danced! On the bar...
A good night was had by all. The next day people were pretty hungover, but in good spirits. And the actual ceremony was beautiful. It was outdoors under a tent overlooking a lake and surrounded by a forest. I have some idea what this must have cost, and my God, the Bride's Father probably could have bought himself a nice, if slightly used Aston Martin.
My friend, the Bride, looked stunning. I even cried a little bit during the speeches (I'm such a pussy when it comes to heartfelt expressions of love). And although I only knew 3 or 4 people, I left with a raft of new friends, several of whom have told me anytime I'm in San Fransisco, Seattle or Portland, I have a place to stay.
Overall, this was a great, Great, GREAT weekend. A good way to turn 31 years YOUNG and see off a person whom I lovely deeply. Congratulations, Mrs. A. F.! And to the groom, Mr. P.W.! Cheers!