Editor’s note: The following is a continuing journal of a fictional college student. It is intended to be a humorous and enjoyable feature about an average Joe. Though written by Iowa State’s own Scott Jacobson, a Daily staff writer, people, places and events detailed below are not analogous to a real student.

September 24, 1999

So there I was, looking ahead to the next several weekends, when I realized that the number of times I’ll be dressing up in ridiculous outfits, surrounding myself with friends from afar and drinking for hours on end is simply for one reason — it’s wedding season.

I realize that football is on most people’s minds throughout September, October and November, but when you’re in your mid-20s and both you and your significant other have accumulated a fair number of friends throughout your college years, tailgating tends to take a back seat to wedding receptions.

The nice thing about marital mania is that Taylor and I get to share some quality time. Granted, we’re going to be pulled in a hundred directions once we step into each reception hall, but at least we’ll be enjoying the chaos together.

Take this coming month, for example. We’ve got six weddings in four weekends in three states which means a lot of driving, a lot of hugging, a lot of dancing and a lot of little ham sandwiches.

Tomorrow we’re going to Taylor’s cousin’s wedding in Minneapolis, then turning around for one of my friend’s weddings on Sunday. Next weekend, Taylor gets to be a bridesmaid in her old roommate Jane’s wedding, and I get to take Carl and Eddie as my dates.

Then things get a little crazy.

Taylor has two weddings on Oct. 9, but I can’t go to either of them because it’s Eddie’s cousin Walt’s bachelor party. He’s getting married for the second time to the same girl, so the wedding itself looks to be a little anticlimactic. But his bachelor party is a different story.

Eddie, Chet, Carl, Pablo and I are in charge of the festivities — just as we were for the first go-round — and this time we’ve sworn ourselves to excellence. We’re going to learn from past mistakes and make this the best darn shindig ever.

Always striving for perfection, we had an opportunity to practice last weekend. Eddie had his fifth annual bachelor party, and we invited all the boys back to town to celebrate.

The tradition got started in 1995 when Eddie and I were groomsmen or ushers four out of five weekends one month. Not wanting to get in a slump during our time off, we took the free weekend and rejoiced that we were still bachelors.

We figured that was the true essence of a bachelor party: all the fun without the impending loss of freedom.

Since then, we’ve gathered every September in Eddie’s honor and told stories about how things were back in the day and how we’re getting too old to do this anymore. Then we get sloppysilly and wake up the next day on the 18th green at The Oaks.

So, last weekend we started things out at the Tip Top around 7 a.m. It’s amazing how the crowd thins out when the Cyclones play in Vegas. After a few hours of chili, beer and darts, we went golfing for 18 holes and showed the world why we’re not on the PGA tour. Then we stopped by the Meeting Place for more cards followed by an intense, yet relaxing, game of Trivial Pursuit Jr. back at our house.

I’m not allowed to talk about what happened between my house and People’s, but I can say that Eddie had to scrub for days to get all that permanent marker off his chest. And he still doesn’t know how the waistband to his boxers ended up around his neck as a bow tie. But that’s between us guys.

The night ended with Eddie and Chet on stage with The Nadas singing “The Airplane Song” as Carl and I were passed around the crowd. Crazy things happen when 10 guys each tackle five IRA Car Bombs and then are told they can fly around the bar if they just put their arms out and flap.

Needless to say, we’re confident that Walt is going to have a good time. After all, you’re only married to the same girl a second time once, and we want to make it memorable.

But first things first.

Jane’s wedding looks to be a hootenanny and since Eddie, Carl and I have no official duties whatsoever, we should be leading the charge on the dance floor in no time.

I just wish we had more time to brush up on our chicken dance, electric slide and “Boot Scootin’ Boogie.”