The Bride carried a Weenie Stick

'You rock!' said the Lady with all the Bounce when i told her i was going to her shotgun-golfclub-weeniestick-bigwhitedress-89bridesmaid wedding.

'Yee-haw!' I replied, resolving to check my itinerary well in advance and confirm that i really was going on:

Monday, the 31st of July (arriving in Calgary at 12:10 pm)

and staying until Monday, the 7th of August ( leaving Calgary at 5:25pm)

making sure to pack a pretty party dress, along with a pair of painted-on jeans and shitkickers.

That shouldn't be too much trouble. After all i only have to show up and have a good time with the rest of the Thomson/Bennett/Hornby/Iden Clan. I don't have to worry about passing vet school exams while drugged up on Sudafed, birthing lambs for two weeks, forgetting I'm going home at all until 7 hours before i need to be at the airport, not inviting any of my future husband's family to the wedding (by mistake) , my future husband neglecting to ask for time off from work, or fitting into the most perfect (but incredibly shrinking) dress in the world on the big day.

Nope, not me.
'Pour the rye', said the adventurous and incredibly cosmopolitan spinster. 'I'm on my way.'