Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 2 of 2)

September 3

September 3

How insane is it that Kate is getting married? Honestly, the closer we get to this wedding, the crazier it seems. At this point, we're approaching Amanda Bynes levels. I suppose it's not completely unfathomable that two people who have been dating for six years are getting hitched, but Kate is the first of my friends to walk down the aisle. Considering I am probably ten years – or more – away from any sort of wedding of my own, it's been quite the culture shock.

I don't know what time Sebastian got home last night, as I was clearly in a deep, weed-induced slumber. Nevertheless, the boy had his things ready to go and was out the door before me this morning, which was great. Adios, Sebastian. Thanks for cleaning my bathroom!

Soon after, I followed suit with my backpack, body pouch, and weekender bag in tow. I wasn't quick enough, though. When I got to the parking garage, Riley, Veronica, and Abby were all waiting for me. I made up an excuse about Sebastian holding me back, but the reality was that I spent most of my morning trying to make an Instagram video with a clip from the movie Crossroads. This brick of a laptop wouldn't move fast enough, though. Goddamn it!

Before we left, I met Riley's billionaire boyfriend. Seriously, though. What do I have to do to find a guy like that? Clearly, I have been hanging out in the wrong social circles. All of the rich, successful gays must be getting drunk at other bars. I thought working at The Clubhouse might have put me closer to those types of men, but finding a gay guy at work is like finding a needle in a haystack. That's hardly an exaggeration, either. Most of The Clubhouse's members are about as interesting as a bundle of straw.

Anyway, the four of us packed up the car and hit the road. We also picked up Kate's cousin Khloe along the way, as she had a last-minute change of plans. Riley sat upfront with me the whole ride, and we had some good conversations between Mariah Carey songs. I'll be honest, though. Riley wouldn't shut the fuck up about her boyfriend and everything he owns. We get it. The guy's rich. I don't care about his mansion, or the 18 Tesla cars he has in the garage. Congrats, girl. You bagged a billionaire! Now, take your prize money and find out if he has any friends for moi. On another note, Abby – from high school – broke up with her boyfriend of seven years last month. You know this trip is going to be a wild one for her.

We hit a lot of traffic pon de road to Québec. Thanks to my lead foot, we still made it to the hotel on time. With about 15 minutes to decompress before the festivities began at the stroke of Rebecca Price's Burberry watch, I unpacked my bag, changed, and examined my disgusting, swollen self in the mirror. Fuck. I should have brought a muumuu.

I'll give credit where credit is due. I must say that Rebecca Price did an incredible job organizing this weekend – considering she isn't even the Maid of Honor. I was seriously impressed with the attention to detail. I've said it before, though. When someone wants to take charge like that, let them. Otherwise, you're just in their way.

Our group of twelve had three rooms at the hotel. I ended up staying in the main suite with Kate and her two sisters, which I was pretty happy about. The more room I have to spread my wings, the better. Plus, I like it when people migrate to me. I don't care to move all that much, which is probably why I'm looking more like a beached whale these days than a bridesmaid. I splashed some water on my face, had a couple of drinks during the initial celebration and surprise for Kate, and then the crew was on their way to our first event: pole dancing lessons.