It has been a week since the party, and I’m still hung over. (But don’t tell my work colleagues with whom I just spend four days.). Two beach houses packed full of party-crazy youngsters was just the preamble to what is now scientifically verified as the party of the century. Wolf of Wall Street got nothing on these people. What was the occasion, you ask?
The marriage between Yaron Avitov and Brandon Mayberry.
Introductions are in order.
I met Yaron while I was in university. We went out for a drink, he asked me bizarre brain puzzles and I solved them. That was the first test. Then he asked me to meet him at Heathrow airport with my passport. When I complied without even asking where we were going, I passed the second test. (I eventually found out when I turned on my phone and it welcomed me to Budapest.) After that, we were friends. The crazy in me that enables my nomadic lifestyle, Yaron has tenfold. He is an unstoppable force of nature, and I am proud, really honoured, to call him my friend. From Yaron, I learned that the world is malleable, and we can shape it to fit our desires if we dare to try.
Brandon I met later, when Yaron made the wholly sensible choice to court, seduce, proposition (or whatever else he did) Brandon and brought him into his life. Or was it the other way around? From Brandon, I learned the importance of being a good person. And I don’t mean a little bit good. Brandon is goooood. Don’t believe me? How about his donating a kidney to his future mother-in-law? But it isn’t just this one crazy act of selflessness. It is his entire being. Spend five minutes with him and you’ll know what I mean.
And now these two amazing people joined in marriage. Never has there been a couple that better compliment the other’s strengths and weaknesses. (mostly strengths)
So what about the wedding itself? Well, it started by the grooms arriving to the wedding on jet skis… Seriously. I refer you to exhibit A on the right, showing two larger-than-life characters arriving to their wedding on jet skis!
The rest of the wedding is a daze. I remember there being a beautiful ceremony. There was something about cramming myself into a photo booth with my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss. There is photo evidence of my dancing the night away although it must be fabricated as I was clearly too drunk to stand, not to mention dance. I believe there was a bouncy castle involved, and a couple of resistance games… Oh, and the little black dress. Oh, have mercy, the little black dress.
My final thought is this. Yaron and Brandon. Damn you. Damn damn damn you both. How can I possibly top a wedding like this? If I didn’t love you both like brothers, then I would be very upset. But I do, and I wish you both the very best of married bliss!
PS. On my wedding day, I am going to bungee-jump into the ceremony.