STRANGER THAN FICTION: WEDDING A POWERFUL REASON TO VACATION ELSEWHERE

For the past three years, we've taken our annual vacation in Missouri for one very powerful reason that can be explained in two simple words.

Free lodging.

But this year, The Other Half and I overcame the guilt we felt for ditching our Southeast Missouri families and traveled to Portland, Ore., for another very powerful reason.

Open bar wedding reception.

We haven't attended a wedding in four years since most of our friends have a no-marriage philosophy. Like many of their generation, they prefer to drift about in going-nowhere relationships with absolutely no consideration for MY feelings. Don't they know how important all-you-can-eat butter mints, white cake and punch are to me? Don't they understand how exciting little bags of birdseed, printed napkins and bow-lined pews can be to us folks who were wed by judges in minute-long civil ceremonies? But finally, FINALLY, a couple we knew got on the stick and sent out cream-colored invitations with raised black print and those little translucent pieces of paper with no real purpose. And even they weren't completely traditional about it.

They chose to have the ceremony in an outdoor rose garden in Portland, the American city recently recognized for having more heroin users per capita than any other. The groom's mother, stepfather, biological father, adopted siblings, sister's second husband and stepdaughter, etc., were all invited, and weddings tend to bring out the worst even in traditional families. The bride was nervous because she had her initial dress fitting in January and ended up nearly five months pregnant by the wedding date.

"We can talk about baby names when you're out there for the wedding!" she explained excitedly. Now THERE'S a phrase you don't hear very often.

But Mr. Half and I adore the couple and hadn't ever seen the Pacific Northwest, so it was a lock that we'd attend.

Portland is the antithesis of Fort Lauderdale, Fla., where we've lived for eight months. I didn't see a single breast implant there. Women dye their hair blonde here. In Portland, they dye it pink. Here, you can't be too rich or too thin. There, you can't be too weird and what the hell is Slimfast, anyway? Here, melanoma be damned, we're tan. There, people are so white they actually put off light.

Here, you can buy Jamaican fried meat pies at the flea market. There, you can buy Gardensausage biscuits in fast-food restaurants. I heard a record 10 people on our flight out of Portland ask for the vegetarian lunch.

But even more interesting was our jaunt to Seattle, where we saw only one person in two days talking on a cell phone. One person!!! In Fort Lauderdale, people walk up and down the aisles of Target talking on their cell phones. I wasn't even sure my cell phone would work up there, but I brought it anyway because it makes me feel more secure.

It's like a pacifier for adults. And let's not even get into what Freud would say about that.

The Pacific Northwest lifestyle and the residents' lack of interest in personal grooming held a certain appeal for me. I mean, who WOULDN'T want to dump Weight Watchers, adopt a uniform of drawstring pants, sandals and T-shirts and never wear makeup again? How different from Florida's "plastic fantastic" outlook can you get? I just couldn't do it. The urge to diet and cover my face in blemish-hiding foundation was too ingrained. The morning of the wedding I showered, used several hair products and applied my war paint, as usual.

There ceremony was short and sweet, set among roses of various colors. The guests complained a little about the 87-degree, dry heat. (Isn't that adorable?) The groom's family got along swimmingly. The wedding dress fit just fine.

And I boarded the plane back to plastic fantastic Fort Lauderdale, deciding that maybe nine months of rain could really affect a culture's view of makeup, clothing and diet.

Heidi Nieland is a former Southeast Missourian staff writer now living in Fort Lauderdale. Contact her at newsduo@herald.infi.net.