I had to congratulate Tiffany this afternoon on the glamorous, bronze sequinned mini-dress. So practical and so unlike the white linen tea gown I was wearing; I'll never get New England out of my blood. I did have friends visiting from Boston this weekend and firmly blame them for my fall (really a triple-twist dismount) from the wagon. What a bunch of drunks. The leader of the pack, elegant Constanza, actually had the gall to ask me today just what I did at The Palace on weekends. (This while endlessly entertaining them.) I replied, "To be spendid." That shut her up.
The other Bostonian, Officer Brian, was packed on a Norwegian cruise ship today and sent away; as usual he contributed mightily to my going down the drain.

With all Bostonians now departed, I've been able to focus on the agenda item on all lips today: The Wedding. The guest list stands at 150 and I've been thrilled to learn of the attendance of The Countess Bedelia, who will be Officer Brian's date. Our Best Man, Captain Jeremy, is away on military business until the 17th, making the wedding a little later than planned; we will have to live in sin until then, but is IS South Beach. It has all turned into the very "feel good" event that has been with me all this time; even the people who had that initial raised eyebrow have come into the fold. The crowd is tapping their fingers together and chirping like magpies.