The wedding was held on Palm Sunday. The bridesmaids were walking to “Here comes the sun.” We were instructed to walk in a certain rhythm, hold our flowers at chest level, smile, look up, and sit down at a certain time. There was more choreography than the Miss America pageant. As long as we didn’t trip and fall into someone’s lap we were good.The ceremony was officiated by the bride’s father. He is the most adorable, polly pocket sized, Portuguese man. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.

The reception was at a house on a hill, surrounded by an infinity pool and overlooking the ocean. There was a sunset on one side and the pale glow of a full moon on the other. There was a mariachi band singing besame mucho and servers passing rose water champagne cocktails. There were stations of coconut shrimp and ceviche. The setting was so romantic that I almost started making out with myself.

Meredith and I lucked out and weren’t seated at the “singles table”. Instead the whole wedding party sat together which means we broke into song every 10 minutes and kept cheering “ole, ole, ole!”. You should have heard the music they were playing. It was the kind of music you hear in your dentist’s office. Lionel Richie. Captain and Tenille. Linda Ronstadt.

Even though I wasn’t that hungry, I forced myself to eat everything because bad things happen when I drink on an empty stomach. It wasn’t a difficult feat. The main course was lobster and steak so tender that you could cut it with a blade of grass.

Then they started passing around shots of tequila. I only drank half of a shot because I wanted to try and actually remember the rest of the evening. But our friend Kaki said that it’s bad luck not fo finish a shot. So I finished it. Then she said, “I’m just kidding. I just wanted you to do your shot.”

Why must I believe everything I hear?!?!

After dinner we all gathered on the dance floor and the dj started playing persian music. We all did the limbo. At one point I returned to the table because the servers had just put out flan. I love flan! I’ve already decided that when I get married I’m going to have wedding cake made of flan. And another one made of ferrero rochers. Now all I need is a boyfriend.

The DJ, and I’m not exagerrating, was 10 years old. He insisted on ignoring the playlist and playing cheesy, Mexican house music. We finally had to corner him and threaten we’d break both his legs if he didn’t play Sexyback. Okay, we didn’t do that. But we were all thinking that.

Apparently our friend Henri caught all the dancing on video tape. I wonder if he caught himself doing the white man’s dance. You know, when white guys dance with both arms raised in the air.

After dancing, we all decided to change into our swimsuits and get in the infinity pool. Actually my roommate Victoria threw me in the infiinty pool.

Meredith and I befriended the three single guys at the wedding and we all did more shots. In the pool. I think Meredith almost drowned. At one point everyone vacated the pool and it was just me and some random guy from Colorado. I asked him what he thought of Rep Tancredo. I should not be allowed to make small talk.

The next morning I woke up and found myself still dressed in my wet bathing suit from the night before. I looked over at Meredith and she was still in her bathing suit too. This is how I spent my last few moments at a 5 star resort. Sleeping in a wet bathing suit.

As my flight departed Mexico on Sunday, I felt a little sad to go but also rejuvenated. I was only away for 4 days but in those days I learned so much.

I learned that the adventure is in the lesson. I learned that instead of being so afraid, I should just surrender and relish the moment. I learned its all about the moments. The tiny ones like seeing a butterfly floating out your window. Or falling asleep to crashing waves. Or waking up to a vast horizon. Or just using any excuse to do silly dances. I learned that it’s okay to fall. And if you do, your friends are there to pick you up. In my case, they literally have to pick me up off the floor.

I learned how not to be so angry all the time. Because I think beneath the giggly facade was a bitter self. But I think it melted under the Mexican sun (not to be confused with the Tuscan sun).

During the ceremony, one of the speakers said that marriage isn’t just about finding the right partner, but being the right partner. That line really resonated for me. I try to write everyday not just to become a better writer but a better person. And my friends have helped me navigate that journey. I’ve never met such a fearless, impetuous, headstrong, passionate, wickedly smart, hilarious, brilliant group of people.

You know how some spiritualists have a theory that you pick your family? Like you’re in the waiting room of life and select which mom and dad you want to be with? I think you pick your friends too. They come into your life at times of great struggle or heartache.

I think for the first time in a really long time, I’ve regained a sense of peace and adventure and romanticism.

I was talking to a friend in Boston the other day and she said, “I can tell from reading your blog that you’re growing stronger with each day.” It’s true. If you rewind to the archives I was such a mess back then. Crying myself to sleep. Feeling guilty for wrecking two relationships. Convinced that I was never going to get over it.

But I did.

Okay, one last small confession. My roommate has some video footage of us all dancing only you can’t really see anything because it’s too dark outside but you can hear Kelly Clarkson’s song “Since You’ve Been Gone” playing in the background. And you can hear me sing, okay screaming, along “Since you’ve been goooooone”. And girls, you know how the rest goes. “I can breathe for the first time, I’m so moving on, yeah yeaaaaaah. Thanks to you, now I get, what i want. Since you’ve been gone.” And, well, there’s a reason I was belting that song.

This trip has injected me with a new sense of optimism. Life is too short to be bitter. You might as well spend it dancing and eating more flan. Ole!

(A photo of me dancing with the bride’s mother. Probably to Sexyback.)