I'm a perfect piece of ass, like every Californian

In England, you almost expect the weather to be, well, miserable. And were we disappointed? Hell no! It was windy, rainy and frankly quite brisk. We attended a wedding and it was everything you would assume a British wedding to be. Several hymns were sung, baffling the heck out of me (who goes to church anymore? And sings?) and many courses were consumed at the 'wedding breakfast' which is their name for reception.

We danced in a modified disco in the hall, something I'm sure the ancestors who built the grand Hall never saw coming! It felt very iconoclastic. We played a small game of croquet, dressed in our wedding finery of long dresses, fascinators and hats. My fascinator, of peacock feathers, drew admiring glances long and far. We played a brief, if moderately successful, game of skittles in the path in the long garden.

The food was spectacular, with pureed seafood in gelatin molds, timbale of field berries suspended in crystal-clear vanilla jelly, champagne sorbet.

The cars that drove up to the Hall, guests, waltzed from Porsche Boxters, Range Rovers, BMW's, Saabs, Volvos--nary a rust bucket in sight, or even mid-level. The luxury cars were astonishing.

It was the most opulent, luxurious and no doubt expensive wedding I will ever attend, save I become very famous and am invited to a movie star's wedding, or perhaps there is another Royal wedding (Harry? Is that you?)..