NAKED DREAMS

As the last red rose withers and slumps, having given all and fulfilled the measure of its creation as a wedding reception centerpiece, we come to the conclusion of this magical season of fairytale love.

And now, I feel it's my obligation to answer the question you've all been pondering—How did Lisa handle it all so beautifully?

I think you know the answer to that. But just in case, two words:

Naked. Dreams.

Yes, that's right. Naked Dreams.

For whatever reason, it was imperative for me to spend every night, from engagement to wedding, talking to people for a really long time before looking down in horror to find I was completely naked in church/the grocery store/a political rally/China. It didn't seem to matter where I ended up, just how I ended up. Which was naked.

And don't quote me on this, or go ahead I don't care, but pretty sure that's why everything turned out so well. On account of me taking one for the team and satisfying the mean spirited, job loving, every day is a naked day dream gods.

Also, I have some tips for you when it comes time for your own child's wedding. Because only one who has experienced this storm can tell you where to find shelter.

First: Every day is the perfect day to start your diet "tomorrow". I had 89 tomorrows to lose 30 pounds—each one more promising than the last. And they only failed me on the very last day. Fortunately, the heavens smiled down and gave us "freezing cold" and "snow" for our forecast, allowing me to keep my coat on for every wedding day picture. But you should have SEEN all the stuff going on underneath that vintage jacket! My only regret was my chins. If there had been a way to suck those in, it would have been fake champagne all around! I just feel sorry for my sister who has to photoshop me into what I think I look like. A moment of silence for her.

Next: If your son lives close to his fiancé, you'll need to move him across the nation immediately, if you hope to get any sleep on chastity watch. 'Nuff said.

Third: If you forgot to invite somebody, blame it on them. When you see them, tell them you were really disappointed they didn't feel it was important to be at your child's reception. Then purse your lips, turn away and with emotion, whisper, "I'm sorry. I just can't talk about it right now." BAM! You're welcome.

And last, DO NOT, under any circumstances, TELL YOUR HUSBAND HOW MUCH THINGS ARE COSTING! Because to him, all things wedding are luxuries, not necessities. But bullets are crucial to life. And when he does hear an off-hand comment about how expensive the luncheon is, or that you're in charge of paying for the tuxedos, he will suddenly turn sullen and fatalistic, stating, "So, basically, what you're saying is, we're all going to die?" Don't know how he got to such a dark place, but it happened faster than I expected.

Then you will have to cheer him up with lies, like, "BUT they gave us a 40% DISCOUNT because the bride and groom are so good looking!" Or, "I could have opted for the steak, but it was going to be $10,000 per person. Instead, I chose the chicken and it saved you half a million dollars so here, I bought a box of bullets for you."

See? It's all in the delivery. And the subterfuge. Which is what a happy marriage is all about.

In the end, Madelyn and Ashton became Mashton for all eternity, I'm starting my diet tomorrow and if you didn't get your invitation, obviously you're lying. Not me. And Sterling, I have no idea why thousands of dollars are missing from your account. Probably a hacker.

For those of you who TOTALLY received an invitation, but didn't bother to show up, here is what you missed. Even the heavens color coordinated.