I am sorry for throwing up on your wedding dress.

Dear Marta,

First of all, thank you so much for inviting me to your lovely wedding. You and Todd looked so great together up there on the altar that I just know you'll have many, many happy years of marriage together.

I am sorry for throwing up on your wedding dress. I don't know what it is with me and strawberry daiquiris. Something bad happens every time I drink them, but I just keep coming back for more!

Were you able to get the stain out? I know that strawberry is hard to remove, and the arugula salad with blood orange vinaigrette couldn't have helped matters, either. Was your father-in-law able to get his tux dry cleaned?

Believe me, Marta, had I known I was going to be sick, I would never have insisted on the group photo. I guess I was just so excited that I wanted to preserve the moment. Mission accomplished, huh? I don't suppose I'll ever forget the look on your brother's face when he looked up at me just before the camera flashed.

Have the other photos come back? I'd love to see them sometime! Your sister looked adorable in her maid-of-honor dress. Really. Just like an angel.

Did I take my top off on the dance floor? I seem to remember dancing the Electric Slide, and all of a sudden your grandmother was pointing and looking at me funny. Then someone threw a tablecloth over me and asked me to leave. Sometimes, I think I should just learn to call it a night!

Well, I suppose you want to know how I made it home that night. So do I -- JK! After I left with that bartender guy, we went over to the Win Dixie parking lot. Things got kind of hot and heavy on some guy's car and then I was at a club. There was more dancing and this guy gave me some kind of a pill. I remember lots of lights and a weird spinny feeling. I think I might have taken my top off again! Anyway, more flashing lights and when I opened my eyes I was in a 7-11, where some jerk was telling me to put the pretzel machine down. Next thing I know the sun is shining and this policeman is saying that my daughter's here to pick me up, my daughter's here to pick me up -- over and over again. It's like, OK, I get it! My daughter's here to pick me up! Now can I get some breakfast in here? LOL

Well, again, I'm so sorry about the wedding dress. Say hello to Todd for me and tell him I didn't mean it about his face. It's a handsome face, Marta.

Congratulations!

Love,

Janet