This afternoon, the WM was gracious enough to get all gussied up in his jacket and tie and escort me to a wedding.

The bride? Mime 3's mom.

The groom? A nice gentleman she had met on

The venue? A Unitarian church just two blocks room my house.

The wedding planner? My oldest friend, Beebs.

Most memorable part of the ceremony? When the minister told them they were husband and wife, and he couple went to kiss, the minister started clapping with his hands above his head, and WM leaned over and whispered "Touchdown!" in my ear.

Best outfit? Mime 3's bridesmaid's dress. Adorable.

Most memorable hair? Tie between Mime 3's younger cousin with her black hair with giant hot pink streak running through it and Bride's best friends fire engine red, waist length naturally curly hair. (I swear there was more hair than woman on that lady.)

Worst outfit? Again, a tie. WM liked the gold, wedding-cake-tiered mini dress (complete with "after market" double D boobs) on one lady; I found the oversized grey rhinestone-studded sweater (think Flashdance) with matching leggings and black patent stilettos to be the most interesting.

Line heard most often? "This is the last time, right?" (Because this was, after all, the Bride's third wedding, and even Mime couldn't disagree when two different guests said that to her in a 10 minute span.)

But even with the overly obvious jokes about "third time's a charm," I had to admit that the Bride? Well, she's a brave soul. In her 50s, two previous marriages and who knows how many other break ups under her belt, and yet...she still believes in love and in making a commitment. That's more than a lot of us who have lived through a lot less are able to do.

Here's to hoping that they find with each other a partnership that lives up to such high expectations. Salut!