The Royal Wedding

I have this friend at work. She appears very serious on the surface (and, sadly, the "surface" is what she shows at work most of the time, only pulling out her silly side with certain people like me who have grown to love and adore her over a long getting-to-know-you period.)

She burst in to my office today, somewhat shellshocked, and said, "I don't know how it happened, but I'm going to London for the Royal Wedding!"

She is a very well travelled woman, and has been to London many times, so the location is not the attraction in this case.

And as much as she is a patriot, it wasn't some loyalist fever that gripped her to see the marriage of the future king.

No, it's simpler than that: she has another girlfriend who searches the globe for the "Great Party". Said girlfriend planned, among other memorable voyages, a trip to the Vancouver Olympics, not because of the sports, but because of the incredible community spirit she knew would evolve.

So when this woman said, "Let's go to London for the Royal Wedding!", my friend still somehow thought it was a joke and said, "Of course, let's do it!"

And then, umm, apparently realized today she had just agreed to a REAL trip.

I could not be more thrilled for her, what a once-in-a-lifetime thing, to be ANY part of a royal wedding, even if it ends up just watching it on TV in some sketchy London bar while wearing a questionable Union Jack top hat, listening to the noise of the crowd outside (Please note: that's not what I think will happen.) The point is she'll be a part of it. And I love her for it, I love her being excited but still asking, "Do you think I did the right thing?"

YES YES YES YES YES YES