This weekend, I attended the wedding ceremony of a good college friend in Palm Springs. Seven other women from college attended and we had a great time milking the open bar for all it was worth (which was, apparently, more than what we capable of drinking), and rehashing stories about college and our early days of living in LA. Of course, I got stuck at Table #8 (AKA, The Randoms) right next to the bride's old boyfriend, Five Foot Two Lawyer, who I never got along with (to her endless credit she maintained a relationship with him) because he used to taunt me ruthlessly about my personal life. Why I let short guys get under my skin is another matter. [As an irrelevant aside, I confess to going on his cable access show twice. The second time, the other guest was a guy I went on one date with once and the entire show was about what happened on our date. Everyone who saw him on the show insisted he was gay...].

Needless, to say mid-way through the salmon I realized that certain relationship dynamics never change, as FFTL kept threatening to set me up with the only other single person there. When I asked him and his wife what made their marriage work, I got.

"Money," he said.

"Kids," she said.

The night included dancing to a few 90's hits including "Groove is in the heart," and a varied list of mixed drinks including White Russian, Mojito, and Irish coffee (gee, no wonder I'm so hung over). The real joy of the weekend was realizing how much history I share with these women and how much fun we had together.

Just for today, I can enjoy my friend's wedding.