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It took me some time to decompress before I could write this post. Yes, a week. Last weekend proved spectacular, and now I'm thirty years old.

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Sam and Jim were married in the sunken garden of a castle, surrounded by friends, family as well as the beautiful juxtaposition of the lush greens of the land against the piercing blue of the clear sky. Everyone remarked on the exquisite weather. The music started and then Jesse was walking down the hydrangea-strewn aisle as a groomsman. Adam told a funny tale befitting of the couple as he officiated, and Sam and Jim looked deliriously happy and radiant.

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The New York contingent sipped on mimosas and bloody marys during the brunch-time cocktail hour, though a few of the men opted for rose (we don't know where this trend came from). Since it was also my 30th birthday, I was excited the attention was elsewhere, but happy that we were all together in Connecticut and laughing.

We made friends with a few other New Yorkers because they overheard us talking about the Breaking Bad finale that would be upon us next day. A young man named Dylan, betrothed (ok, just dating, but I love the word betrothed, don't you?) to gorgeous bridesmaid Jenny sauntered over to our table when he overheard words like 'Madrigal,' 'Heisenberg,' and 'ricin.' Like me and Jiscilla, his other half was in the wedding party taking the pro photos during cocktails.

Fun fact: because of this introduction, Dylan and Jenny joined us for the Breaking Bad finale the next evening in Brooklyn. Jim and Sam just know how to surround themselves with great people.

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Yet there were a couple of guests that would raise their voices in crowded areas, making sure people knew that they were on a television show every week. Not that anyone cared.

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Sartorial note -- I have two different wedding-guest-ready blush pink dresses that both have polka dots (one navy, one black) and I couldn't wear either to this wedding because the colors included pale pink. So I went for my rarely worn cobalt blue silk dress. I love it but wear it rarely because without fault I will always get SOMETHING on it. I have worn it twice before: once three years ago to meet my friend Amber at Brooklyn Winery where I proceeded to get honey on it from the cheese board we were eating. And then to a holiday party last year in which I spilled some white wine. But it's a lovely dress that makes me feel slinky and light, so it's all worth it to me for those dry cleaning costs.

And after this wedding, there were at least three I counted. That means I had a LOT of fun.

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After the entrances, great speeches, and carousing on the dance floor (I'm always there, baby), the wedding ended around 4pm and the guests filtered out to prepare for the afterparty. Jim and Sam took the party from the castle to Jim's grandparents' backyard with a big white tent and buffet-style food selections. Per Jim's request, I supplied the playlist.

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I should mention that in the interim two hours between the wedding and the afterparty I decided I should nap back at Jim's house (where we were lodging in a guest bedroom). I took off the silk stain-catcher and dropped under the covers in my bra and pantyhose (like you do). Not ten minutes later, just as I was drifting off, three girlfriends came screaming into the room singing happy birthday, turning on the offensively bright light, and when I realized what was happening I got really excited, threw off the blanket so they could get a little surprise of their own: I was half naked. Yay!

They were all wearing t-shirts emblazoned with various 'special moments' photographs of me in my life. My faces were staring back at me, and I couldn't stop laughing. My friends are the best.

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L-R: Kells, Erica, me, Amber, Jaime

Me in my '30' glasses + Jesse

Jesse, Ali, Adam, me, Jenny, Dylan

During the afterparty we played wiffle ball, drank some scotchy scotch scotch, played with props for the photobooth, danced about a bonfire, and discussed our favorite things about Sam, Jim, and their wedding. They also have wonderful relatives. It was a memorable celebration.

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At one point, Jesse was nowhere to be found and I walked up to my group of friends with what I thought was a terribly important story. As I was speaking, I noticed that NO ONE was paying attention to me. They were all looking behind me. I started to scowl, and then I turned around and saw Jesse descending the driveway with my FATHER right behind him!

MY DAD SHOWED UP!

I totally started crying. My mom's been in Panama for the past month for a family issue, and I was missing my parents like crazy and then THERE HE WAS. Props to Jesse and my dad and apparently EVERYBODY there, to include the newlyweds, who helped execute the surprise. I was kind of overwhelmed by all the goodness I am continuously surrounded by. THE BEST PEOPLE.

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Sam and Jim even included the birthday surprise on the wedding day itinerary. How sweet. And they got me a cake with The Twins on it and it said "The Lesters Send Their Regards." (Jim's last name is Lester.)

HAHAHAHAHA GAME OF THRONES CAKE? AT A WEDDING? A NON-RED WEDDING? (IT WAS RED VELVET) I'M STILL LAUGHING. I LOVE MY FRIENDS.

My dad also brought his trusty sword that we use to cut cakes at home. Parker Family tradition, as it were. I always feel powerful wielding it!

I imagined Walder Frey's neck as I brought the sword down swiftly on the cake.

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My mom was able to send me a photo of her and my relatives in Panama holding up a sign that said happy birthday. Another wonderful gift.

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After the incredibly long day, Jesse and I bid adieu to my father and friends and crashed heartily. This time, in pajamas.

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It was quite a glorious birthday, and I felt so loved and full of glee. Not exactly the best segue, but as a sort of commemoration of turning thirty, here's a line from "Lady Lazarus," one of my favorite Sylvia Plath poems:

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

Like most Plath, the poem in its entirety is depressing, but I enjoyed this stanza as a standalone when I read it earlier this year. I'm not depressed about turning thirty, though.

Let's get on with this, life.