weddings make people crazy.

Over the weekend we drove to LA to visit some friends, enjoy the sunshine, hopefully spot some second or third tier celebs (mostly Cyn's wish), but primarily to go to a wedding. Our friend and former roommate tied the knot with an incredible guy that could only be described as the perfect match for her.

This time we were smart and stayed at a hotel right next door, which we arrived at one whole hour early (yay us!) with plenty of time to get ready, sample the "heavenly" bed (gotta love the Westin), and get our behinds out the door to the church.

Now, I knew that the wedding was at a church but what I didn't know or have time to mentally prepare for was that our previously non-religious friend had apparently become an Episcopalian. We were both pretty shocked to gaze at the program for a one hour, very traditional ceremony. Poor Cyn had never been to a traditional Catholic wedding so I took the opportunity to play a joke on her by appealing to her perfectionist, Type A side; I suggested that she should probably start reviewing the biblical sections of the program, maybe even memorize the whole thing, as everyone would be expected to sing, perform, and participate. She was truly terrified. I let her off the hook once I saw little beads of sweat on her brow and she started biting her nails.

The ceremony was quite lovely; they blended their two cultures (Irish and Chicano) with grace and creativity. The only thing that disturbed me was that the priest required everyone to come up to the front for communion. I can withstand nearly any religious rhetoric while retaining personal distance, but what I refuse to ever do is drink the symbolic blood and eat the figurative flesh of Christ. It was now my turn to sweat as I desperately tried to think of how I was going to get out of this terrifying allegorical performance without offending everyone present - especially the bride and groom. "I'll tell the priest I'm a vegetarian...I'm gluten free...I'm gay...I'm an alcoholic..." Thankfully, I saw that almost all the groomsmen declined the wafer and wine and got off with a brief priestly blessing. When it was our turn to go up, Cyn declined the Eucharist with me and once the priest saw that we were together - as in married - she took hold of us with a mighty clutch and rocked the roof off that holy house with an extra special blessing.

The rest of the reception was very enjoyable: open bar, great food, first-class guests, on and on. I am, however, adding this event to my ever-growing pile of evidence that weddings make people crazy. From what I can tell, the majority of people really return to the steady ground lain by the generations before us of traditional and patriarchal ceremonies whence they decide to get married. Perhaps that is the whole idea anyway and I am missing the point? - it is a ceremony after all. But I just don't think it will cease to amaze me that it doesn't seem to matter how well you know someone; the conventional wedding paradigm is strong and alive. From diamond rings to fathers giving away their brides, some things may never die.