Nikki is the first of my various adopted nieces; I have known her since 1994, when she was 15. She got married on Saturday.
Nikki's wedding was at 4:00; I worked midnight to noon, and got home feeling miserable. A quick check showed about a degree and a half of fever. I swallowed a handful of pain killers and took a 30 minute nap, then went to IHOP to feed Dementia. I was more or less functional by the time we got to the wedding, but knew I wasn't going to last until midnight when the party was supposed to break up.
It was a Hindu ceremony, and the only ethnic Hindu (for lack of a better term) present was the priest. The bride and groom were converts (I think; I am a bit vague on the details), and everyone else in the hall was pretty much clueless. It was interesting, beautiful, and largely incomprehensible.
And then there was the reception. Nikki had worked hard on seating arrangements, making an effort to be sure there was decent conversation at each table, and even providing short "Who's Who" notes on the backs of the place cards (Nikki's organizational skills are downright terrifying...). And of course because Nikki had set things up, the conversation WAS wonderful. Unfortunately, I could feel my voice deteriorating. The cocktail hour ended, and they opened up the buffet, and Dementia and I left.
Think about that for a while. *I* walked away from good conversation (involving a number of attractive young women, even) because it was the responsible thing to do.
I HATE acting like an adult...