And as I whirled around the dance floor in a wild polka, clinging to my partner with drunken desperation, I thought to myself:

This is it.

This is life, right here.

Whirling around, faces flashing too fast before your eyes, clinging to your leader and trusting/hoping/praying he won't let go, stumbling through half remembered dance steps you never really knew and trying not to throw up.

And when it's over, I was breathless, half from the mania of it all, and half from laughing so hard.

Caitlin's dance teacher was her date, and he danced me a few times. Two swings and a polka, because they're pretty easy.

I would like to note here and now: The polka is not easy when the song is six minutes long and you've had six gins and half a bottle of wine.

Just saying.

It was a good wedding.

.

Rosie.

Before&After