This is Erin, one of my oldest, dearest friends. We were in cadets together and played softball on the same team when we were in high school. She used to throw softballs at my head, although she will vehemently deny it. That was before we were friends.

One time at cadet camp, I had carefully eaten all the orange, yellow, green and black jube jubes in my stash, so that I could enjoy my favorite red ones last. What does Erin do? She comes in and pours every last one of precious red gummies into her gaping maw. That was after we became friends, but before we were friends again.

Jay and I drove to Calgary for her wedding this weekend. It was almost as much fun as my wedding, mostly because it wasn't me this time who was strapped into a glorified corset in 30-degree weather while sweat runs down my legs and tears run down my cheeks, while surrounded by plates of heavenly cuisine without an appetite to spare. But also because the jug of wine in the middle of my dinner table seemed to just magically stay full. And let me tell you, it wasn't because no one was filling up my glass.

The subsequent display of my dance moves is retribution enough for the jube jube incident. Let's just say I suffered a headbanging injury, courtesy of Bohemian Rhapsody.