Vegas, Baby!

So my friend C married her fiancee K on Friday November 24th at Caesar's Palace, Las Vegas. The group known as 'the girls' could not let her go through this alone sooooo, we each made our way out to Sin City. N and her husband T, N served as C's matron of honor, C having served as N's maid of honor last month. K, L, G and I make up the rest of the Las Vegas Lunch crowd - we have described ourselves as such because what happens at lunch stays at lunch. K, L, and G did not arrive until Wednesday pm so N and I went over to keep C company as the makeup artist did the dry run of her wedding day make up. Make no mistake, C is a stunner with no make up but with the help of makeup artist Mimi, C looked astonishingly lovely. After that we lunched at Caesar's buffet and then the rest of the gals arrived and we traipsed back to the Aladdin to greet them.

C is a transcendantly thoughtful sort and so well organized that it scares a random kind of girl like myself. She provided us each with bags of serious swag, anything you might imagine needing in Vegas and then some.

So back to the wedding prep, Friday morning arrives and we whirl over to visit with C while N is getting her mani and pedi done. C is so happy that we're there with her and so happy to be marrying K that she is glowing. We must whirl off to the scene of the reception (Spago - pretty swank food, more on that later) to drop off cake cutting equipment, champagne flutes, and stuff for the tables. We chat with the event manager Brian who is, not surprisingly, also from sunny NJ. Because, everyone is either from Jersey, is related to someone from Jersey or knows someone from Jersey- it's just a fact of living. After lunch we go back to get dressed and then return to C's room to help her get ready and K will do N's eye makeup. At a point, C tells us that she was not a nice person, not looking for new friends and that we simply cared for her and let her care for us and that our presence really enhanced the whole experience and made it all it could be for her. Well, tears, snot and mascara flowed (on the mascara wearers of which I am no longer one). After the tears had cleared sufficiently that we could all speak again, we spoke as one in saying with all the love intended - "shut the fuck up, C." (this is code for I love you)