Some Final Thoughts on All That:

1. It was the most fun I have had in like, years.

2. I was the first person to cry, because I am an unstoppable sap. I was also the first to lose part II of our drinking game, so that right there is my second Manhattan of the evening.

3. In fact, there are precious few photographs of me without a drink in hand.

4. Which is probably because the guys had, at that point, decided I was an easy mark and taken it upon themselves to keep me knee-deep in whiskey for the evening. If you are going to get married, find some fun Ecuadorian groomsmen, won’t you? Ones who like drinking and dancing and who will encourage everyone’s terrible drunk Spanish? Guests will have a lot more fun if you do.

5. Oh also: bouquets! So heavy! My wrists are still sore. As are my feet. And my voice.

6. Dressing up like a Real Girl requires a crazy amount of stuff. You start with shoes and a dress and the proper underthings but then there is all of the makeup and the makeup’s fussy brushes and hair needs styling accessories and appliances and products. Maybe some perfume? Certainly a tiny purse and tiny versions of the makeup for touch ups. Double-stick tape for propriety’s sake. The good goddamn sense not to wear serious heels for an hour-long ceremony might be nice, too, but I was not born that way, it seems.

7. Even still, though, lacquered and shellacked and taped into the dress, looking like a bridesmaid, feeling like a fool: it really was the most fun.