Part IV: Better Off Wed So, twas time for the wedding itself. A lovely ceremony indeed (even though I didn't get to be the crucifix bearer as I was during the rehearsal. What can I say, those years of being an altar server really paid off.). I think I have yet to see a bride walk down the aisle without crying. It's kind of cute, actually. Now the fun part: the reception. Back at the Big Pink Guest House, it was time to drink and eat my fill. This was supposed to be some very Southern cooking: BBQ sandwiches, catfish poppers, fried green tomato sandwiches, cheese grits, jalapeno squares, chicken salad, mini-drumsticks. It was amazing. Plus, the wedding cake was unbelievable. Sooo good. I would have eaten my own weight in it if I could. In fact, I think I tried to do that the next morning. In addition to eating and drinking, there was requisite dancing. I couldn't help it. "Fever" is one of my favorite songs. Understandably, we were recognized as the cutest couple there (ok, cutest couple that wasn't getting married). Next, it was time for the after-party, celebrated at the blues club across the street. It was a roaring good time. Except for the fact that the kids (i.e. 18 year olds--I can call them kids now) did not know how to drink and dance at the same time. They were a tad annoying. Spilling, bumping, stepping on toes, all rookie mistakes. Ah, but we were all young, once. Of course, the night--and the trip to the South--couldn't last forever. All good things must come to an end. So went my journey into Dixie.