Weddings, Nostalgia, and Fighting with Bears

I love weddings. I do. I love the beautiful dresses, the happy celebration and the fact that two more people are on their way to being boring old marrieds like me. At each ceremony we attend, my husband tenderly holds my hand during the vows, looking at me adoringly, and I can see just what he's thinking: "Yes! Someone else whose idea of fun will soon be watching 'Chopped' and eating ice cream in sweats." You know what they say, misery loves company.
But more to the point, I love receptions. Any event that centers around dancing to cheesy love songs and eating cake is so up my alley. The wedding I attended this past weekend did not disappoint, because in addition to getting my groove on to the dulcet tones of Ke$ha, and eating delicious, delicious cake, we got to drink with bears. My friend had her reception at the zoo, with cocktail hour taking place at the bear exhibit. Fabulous and exciting, though it would have been moreso if the bears would have been serving hors d'oeuvres or mixing drinks or something (they weren't even dressed for the occasion - did no one tell them that it is tacky to wear white if you aren't the bride? Way to go, polar bear).
Regardless, it was a fabulous event, and I wish the couple nothing but years and years of boring happy marital bliss. And if they ever need to get their fill of watching Food Network on someone else's couch, I will gladly offer ours.