Over in Santa Barbara, Eden and Cruz are plotting...oh wait. Kitty and The Senator have fought the siren call of Pasadena and are actually at their own house. Kitty has opted to skip the wig and instead is wearing a floral head wrap that somehow references both Erykah Badu and Minnie Pearl, which is not something that happens nearly often enough. But really it looks like she was in a Kitty-panic and grabbed the closest Laura Ashley pillowcase and tied it up into a turban. The Senator will be officiating the wedding and after long and hard consideration, a focus group, a Zogby poll, and a few townhalls has decided to go way outside the box and read from ...Khalil Gibran. Maybe throw in some First Corinthians to really get wild. I haven't been to too many weddings because all my friends are hamsters and hamsters cannot legally get married in any state because of RAMPANT HAMSTER DISCRIMINATION. But, the best wedding reading I heard was a couple who read a story from Days with Frog & Toad about being alone together and it was cute. Also, it was not Khalil Gibran. Also also, it was not First Corinthians. Anyway Erykah Pearl over there can't believe The Senator is officiating a wedding instead of like doing his job and representing the concerned citizens of California and their interest in not falling in to the ocean and like voting on the climate bill in this little place called WASHINGTON DC. Maybe he's heard of it? The Senator laughs because he is SO not going to Washington. As if! Doesn't she know that you can't drink coffee on the Metro there? Like what is the point of a morning commute if you can't drink your goddamn coffee on the goddamn subway, right? It's like a big plot to prop up Starbucks development in the greater DC metropolitan area. The Senator swears that he has enough votes and besides, he is not going to miss her big MRI tomorrow. He needs her to hold his hand while they get the results and find out whether or not the tumors are responding to the chemo. Nothing funny about that.

After last week's lost weekend of a single sip of champagne, Justin is back in his Narcotics Anonymous meeting, which I wildly prefer to the other option which is watching this entire episode with the specter of another intervention hanging over our heads like the sword of Damocles. I mean, it would be just like them to make an intervention-wedding pupu platter episode as the last one of the year, right? Right. Anyway, so Justin raises his little addicted hand and confesses to having a drink at his bachelor party last week and somehow no one snorts derisively or even seems to roll their eyes, but I bet if you go to those meetings you are probably a master of rolling your eyes quietly to yourself in a corner so no one notices. But, I keep thinking of Bubbles from The Wire at HIS meetings and I don't think he would be too impressed with someone backsliding via a single sip of champagne at their own bachelor party. Justin explains that he is getting married and his fiancée is pregnant and he is overwhelmed and stressed and isn't ready to be a father or a husband and wishes he knew someway out of this pickle other than through the bottom of a bottle. He turns as a woman lays a comforting hand on his world-weary shoulder and who does he see sitting there glowering at him in a very unsupportive way? David, the father of the bride himself. And he is not very happy. During intermission, Justin finds David and begs for clemency. David swears that the only reason he isn't already on the horn to Rebecca is because he respects the anonymity of the meeting, but he did submit a blind item to the New York Post and alerted his 56 Twitter followers, so Justin better watch out. Justin tries to explain that he is a social moron with the people skills of a houseplant and he just can't talk to Rebecca the way he can talk anonymously to a group of addicts. David knocks him in the back of the head and tells him to figure his shit out or else.