Before, I begin, things I want to remind you all about this wedding:
— It was a vegetarian potluck.
— It was a dry wedding (I'M NOT DRY NOW, THOUGH, THANKS WINE, WE DO NOT MOTHERFUCKING SOBER).
— It was outdoors in Maryland in August. The weather was actually not too bad, but the gnats basically blotted out the sun. In other news, I FUCKING HATE THE EAST COAST.
— Everyone on the bride's side hates the groom.

Things that happened at this wedding:

— The groom basically told guests at my table to go help carry drinks inside. Didn't ask; TOLD. Look, dickcheese, you've already outsourced your food costs to your guests, don't pawn off your manual labor on us, too. Are you goddamned high?!
— I found out that my best friend (the groomsman older brother of the bride) had convinced his mother that the groom is, as I have pointed out since the day I met him, a sociopath. He actually name-dropped me in this conversation, saying, "the first thing Ubertrout said about him was that he has Serial Killer Eyes. Ubertrout is a very good judge of character." Kind of proud about being name-dropped there (not hugely surprised since their mother has known me since I was 12). Significantly less proud of the idea of the bride being married to a Sociopath, because NO, NOT OK.
— Got lumbered at our table with some random guy who'd been to college with the bride and groom and who was just...fucking odd. The point at which he started loudly singing along with Over the Rainbow when it played was the point at which I was like, "NOPE, NEED TO GO TAKE A WALK."
— I refused to Contra Dance on the grounds that "my blood-alcohol level isn't nearly high enough." Stay classy, me.
— The Best Man gave what was actually an AMAZING speech where he questioned whether the groom was mildly autistic, whether the bride had been partially lobotomized, and described the groom as "the only man who has ever married a woman who graduated from Vassar." That all sounds mean, but it was actually incredible and awesome (and hey, the bride and groom — and everyone else there — seemed to enjoy it). Then again, I may have been feeling incredibly vindictive at this point. Not even kidding, this was HANDS DOWN my favorite part of the wedding.
— This was the only wedding where I've eaten before attending. I'm not actually a stranger to this behavior (this is par for the course at every single family gathering of my father's relatives, because such events could otherwise collectively be known as "Cooking: How Does It Work?" Fox News anchors don't deserve to be subjected to the food my father's family tries to serve on a regular basis), but it's odd to do it before a wedding. Kind of a high five moment when I realized my other friend who was there (not the groom) had also gotten a roast beef sandwich in preparation for the wedding, though.
— Felt really, really bad when I found out my best friend had been subjected to a week of this shit. If karma is a thing, he must've murdered puppies in his last incarnation. They were stuck staying in this weird-as-shit Vegetarian-only bunkhouse (the same place at which the wedding was held), and the night before he had successfully smuggled in a contraband steak burrito and hidden it under his pillow. I found this out when I offered to smuggle him a hamburger. This entire sequence of events might be my favorite thing ever.
— The mother of the bride gave a speech that ended with her directly referencing how much she wished she had champagne for the toast she was giving. The entire time she was speaking you could also tell (if you were listening for it) that she was trying to talk herself into this marriage. God, I adore the hell out of that woman.

Things I attempted to eat at this wedding:

— Macaroni and Cheese that tasted as if it had been soaked in ham and sadness, then had the ham removed. It tasted like ham-infused sadness, is what I'm saying here. It was basically the Mac and Cheese version of Hot Ham Water. I am in no way exaggerating.
— Stealth Quiche. LadyTrout, I WILL ASSUME BY ACCIDENT BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO FILE CHARGES AGAINST HER, got me to try something on her plate that she liked. Apparently I made a face like I'd just been told the more sordid details of Marv Albert's sexual escapades...because it turned out this was some form of Quiche. I feel it is incumbent upon me to explain: I loathe Quiche. LOATHE it. Loathe it with every fiber of my twisted, blackened being. Quiche is to me what LeBron James is to the people of Cleveland, Ohio. Serving me quiche is pretty much some sort of War Crime. To be struck with Surprise Quiche...well, let's just say it's a good thing I love LadyTrout so much, because otherwise, them's breakin' up grounds (and possibly something I could prosecute her for).
— At least four different unidentifiable substances that are probably legally classified as "some sort of roofing material." I did this largely to satisfy the amusement of people sitting at my table when I reacted to what they tasted like. In other news, I am a shameless attention whore.
— Some scrounged mushrooms that were clearly intended to be the side portion of something ravioli-based, but which I went straight for because it's really hard to fuck up mushrooms. Nevertheless, whoever prepared this dish had tried their very best to do so.
— Some sort of pasta that tasted perfectly fine for 15 seconds, then felt like a bottle of Cayenne Pepper took a poop on my tongue. It felt like I was being punched in the mouth by a spice rack. This was one of the less objectionable things I tasted.
— Creamed Corn that was actually pretty tolerable, only because it had been made by my best friend's mother-in-law (who is an AMAZING cook). I only ate this once I found out who made it, and thus was not surprised when it turned out to actually be edible (though it is not a patch on this woman's Milenesas, which are TO FUCKING DIE FOR).
— Deviled Eggs, because apparently, EGGS COUNT AS VEGETARIAN. Who knew?! I don't even care, I ate half of these in madcap desperation. Aside from the Best Man's speech and finding out my best friend had convinced his mother that her son-in-law was a sociopath, this was my favorite part of the wedding.
— Oh, also, I didn't eat it, but someone made Kugel. If you're not familiar with Kugel, imagine an overcooked, hardened pasta casserole stuffed with raisins. Kugel is a violation of at least three Amendments to the US Constitution. If poverty and feet have a taste, they taste like Kugel.

We bugged the hell out of this wedding when we found out that the video they were about to show was half an hour long. If anyone wants any drunken answers to anything about this wedding, I'll be here for a while.

ETA: GODDAMIT, LADYTROUT. SHE KNEW IT WAS FUCKING QUICHE AND THOUGHT IT WAS ALL IN MY HEAD THAT I HATED IT AND WAS TRYING TO PROVE IT WAS ALL IN MY HEAD. I AM HAVING SERIOUS RESERVATIONS ABOUT THE VIABILITY OF THIS RELATIONSHIP.