Things Tend to Get a Little Weird Around Me

I do not understand the odd betrayals that one tends to suffer at the hands of one’s own brain. Case in point, I was at a wedding this weekend. For those who know me, you know I don’t drink. For those who don’t know me, but read my blog anyway, you now know that I don’t drink.

So why did everyone there think I was the drunkest person at the whole party?

https://fbcdn-sphotos-a-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xpa1/v/t1.0-9/10626670_10150522694944977_7656761237190265054_n.jpg?oh=bb6325a9486c33caafb3a3a99a8cf4a2&oe=54D0333B&__gda__=1422625325_16578c31230d0cd42f73b0f8640696d5

I am the one in purple, with the tie hanging off my head, and hanging silver tinsel dangling off of my tie.

Why did I do it? I don’t know. Hell, like my friends who DO drink sometimes tell me, I feel shame at some of the sillier things I did. That picture is an obvious example, and the video of me dancing that is slowly making its rounds right now. Mostly the video; I do not dance. To say I dance like a white person is insulting white people everywhere in the world. To say I look like an epileptic on the dance floor is insulting the sense of rhythm inherent in seizures.

In all honesty, I was just hopping around like a fool.

I wish there was a video of my dancing with an old friend of mine; he led the dance, and I am told it looked quite good. I know there are pictures and videos *out there*, cameras were going off the whole damn time we were on the dance floor, but as yet I’ve been tagged in none of them, and I am sure they were taken by people at that wedding I did not know. How unfortunate.

Long story short, we live and we learn, and when our brains betray us, we write excuses on the internet.

C’est la vie.

In any case, congratulations Corey and Tamara, on tying the knot! I hope you will find happiness. Justin ‘Bubz’ Vany, thanks for singing that wonderful first dance song! And for being generally awesome!

Paul, thanks for the dance, and Finny, thanks for being in the background of most of the photos of me, looking like Walter White closing in to take out a rival dealer.

I’d say thanks to the many phone-photographers who captured my drunkest moments, but I wasn’t drunk, and every moment was simultaneously my drunkest moment.

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