nice day for a white-trash wedding

with all apologies to billy idol, it really was a white-trash wedding.

how do i know it was a white-trash wedding? for starters, the happy couple included their love child in ceremony as the older child from a first marriage go-round pushed the love child down the aisle in his stroller.

the junior bridesmaid, who couldn't be more than 10 years old, had bleached blonde hair and thick 1-inch roots. my amazement subsided after another guest pointed out who the poor child's mother was ... the maid-of-honor with the tattoos who prefers an all-over, bottle blond two shades lighter than what she used on her daughter.

the best man needed to be reminded to put his tux jacket on repeatedly through out the day. ditto for the rental shoes of another usher.

the wine was served from a carafe and not a bottle, a sure sign that it originated from a box. and judging from the taste, a very likely conclusion. but since my taste in beer runs a bit deeper than bottled miller lite, i decided to stick to the wine-in-a-box instead.

(yes, i wholeheartedly admit to being a beer-snob. i just believe that as soon as a person can afford a better beer than "beast ice" or pabst blue ribbon that you should refrain from drinking them. ordering one after a certain age doesn't imply "young, broke and cool", it only screams "aging-wannabe-hipster".)

hmmm, what else?

oh, yes! the cake. the cake had more plastic than actual food in its presentation. i'm still not sure what those black dots were supposed to be on the many plastic pillars that separated the thin layers of cake. honestly, i don't think i want to know, either.

but those dots may have been the only black things at this wedding. we had the worst dj. this dj was so bad, even the bridal party wasn't out there dancing. as any bridesmaid knows, it is an unspoken part of the assignment is to get out there on the dance floor. your presence out there encourages other guests to shake their booty. but not at this party. those girls weren't having it as they sucked down their miller lite in a bottle.

but who could blame them? when the dj's music selections are country, country and more fcuking country, it's hard to get your groove thing on. seated at my table for the entire night, i did meet a new bitching partner, who at one point exclaimed, "i have fiddy-cent on my ipod in the car, please let me get it for the dj!" alas, there was to be no black music at this shin-dig. no rump-shakin', either.

only boot-skootin' boogie and the old macarena. for crissakes, who still plays the old macarena? dear goddess, make it stop.

sorry, it gets worse. did i forget to mention i was seated next to my nemesis, my mother-in-law for most of the night? who didn't say one friggin' word to me? my sister-in-law happens to be on her current shit-list and she gets more interaction than i did, but then again, the conversations between them were directed towards my one-month-old niece.

the only time she stopped sitting next to me sullenly was to play chaperone to my niece as she was handed off from one-baby-hungry woman to the next. literally, the sight of my niece created a frenzy among the women of childbearing years. you could expect less activity after dropping chum in shark-filled waters.

let's summarize: no dancing, no good music, no good alcohol and high-levels of estrogen circling the room. what a waste of a great dress! i wore a fantastic chocolate brown silk halter dress and feeling very marilyn-monroe-ish in it with my plumped out curves. but the piece de resistance? brand new, steve madden FMS (fcuk-me-shoes) in matching brown silk with a very high heel.

well, at least the shoes didn't go to waste.