It's day one in Maui -- I'm on the island in the Pacific. Don't get me wrong -- it's a cool thing. I'm on the brink of relaxing. It's all good. My husband and I here for a wedding. His best friend is getting married. They've been close friends since they were 8.
Over the years, their friendship has gone through the normal roller coaster of a life long friendship -- but there was no way he was going to miss this event ... despite the fact it's wedding number three for the groom. Over the years, I've become good friends with the first two wives -- so this feels a little odd. Wife 2 (although they were technically never married) is one of my closest friends. Number 3 seems very nice. She's a tall, thin 30-something -- beautiful brown eyes, perfect teeth -- traffic stopping tits. She's been very welcoming too me -- and to her credit that's got to be hard -- as she knows wives 1 and 2 are my friends -- and close.
I came to the wedding with a bit of dread in my heart -- wondering what the hell I'd do while vacationing with the couple and 30 of their closest friends and relations. There are 5 bridesmaids and their boyfriends/spouses. They're young, tanned and tattooed. They call me sweetie and honey. This makes me a little crazy -- but all my city -friends seem to do this -- so apparently I'm missin' something. One of the bridesmaids apparently has decided I'm quite elderly and feeble. She hugs me around the shoulders and asks if she can bring me anything. When I wouldn't stand up for a drunken toast, she came over and as if I were suffering from an addled mind-- (Why else wouldn't I want to listen to drunk people try to make a toast? "You're my best fuckin' friend, dude." ) -- take my hand and try to walk me to the deck. I actually yelled at her. And you know what she did? She came over and hugged me for a dinner -- a meal which I did not prepare or pay for ... and included a kiss on the cheek. What is with city people? They're always calling me sweetie and kissing me.
I didn't do a damn thing today. It was freakin perfect. I sat on my ass all morning taking in the sunshine and ocean breeze. I finally got hungry and bored enough to go out in search of fish tacos and a quilt store. Found both. Got some yummy tacos and a couple of nice quilt kits and fabric. Plus, I signed up for a Hawaiian appliqué class. Conveniently it's at the same time as the reception and I think I can sneak away for a few minutes and perhaps avoid anymore "sweeties" and "kisses" .
The best part of being here is hanging out with the groom's family. Growing up, Clem became their fourth child. For him, being one of four was a whole lot easier, sometimes, than being one of 10. They are a close-knit and loving bunch - and have always gone out of their way to make me feel welcome.
While the young whipper-snappers and a few old-but-still-like-to partiers are downstairs fielding noise complaints -- the bulk of the family and I are snuggled into the upstairs condo watching Dancing With the Stars.
These are my kind of people -- and my kind of vacation.