Anyway, Sat was my older-brother's wedding. Allan, in my opinion, is an amazing waste of sperm. He ditched the entire family a long ago, which is a shame - I used to look up to him.
On with the story - Sat was his wedding. Strike one, neither myself nor my little brother were invited. Said he didn't want any kids there (hmmm... does 24 mean I'm a kid???) Fine, didn't want to go anyway. Made plans to be with my grrl, Heather, on Saturday babysitting Lawrence while my folks went to the wedding. (I should add here that I live with and support my family)
Well, Sat comes, looking really forward to seeing Heather... then Mr. Murphy knockes on the door, and my mother gets sick. So I had to cancel my plans, and go to my good-for-nothing brother's wedding.
The wedding was probably one of the most miserable experiences of my life. First off, this was the first time we were ever even meeting the bride - we had to check the program to remember her name. Allan didn't acknowledge our presence at all... didn't even say hello. We finally got to say hello to the bastard after waiting in line in the procession to say congrats to them after the ceremony.
I missed the reception, thank god. Convinced my mother to get out of bed and go to it... figured, if I had to do half the hell, she had to do the other.
Gotta love family.