Still Exhausted

I attended a wedding in Ft. Wayne over the weekend.

At about 3:00 Friday afternoon I received a call that I had been expecting all day; it was a buddy of mine who was in the bridal party and with whom I hoped to hitch a ride.

"Hey man, is it still all right if I ride up with you?"

"Yeah, but the rehearsal starts at five and I need to be there before then."

"Well, when you do have to leave?"

"Right now."

"..."

So roughly ten minutes after this exchange I find myself sitting in my buddy's Corolla, barreling down the road toward the three rivers city. I had hastily thrown all the things I thought that I would need into a duffel bag just moments before our departure, but the conviction that I had forgotten something weighed inescapably on me.

When we arrived at the church for the rehearsal, I was greeted by some familiar faces that seemed surprised to see me there. Perhaps it's because I wasn't invited to the rehearsal. Or perhaps it's because I never had a chance to change out of my nasty, sweaty, workout clothes. Either way, I looked like a fish out of water as the foyer began to fill up with people who were supposed to be there and dressed like it.

Later that evening, after the rehearsal had long since finished and the pre-wedding frivolity had mercifully come to a close, the question of accommodations could no longer be ignored. Up until this point I was under the erroneous impression that there would be a few locals offering the use of their homes for all the hapless out-of-towners who had nowhere to lay their heads. This sort of presumption rarely turns out well and in this case the reality was that eight fully-grown human beings wound up crashing in the 20x15 living room of the groom's apartment. Predictably, the apartment was not furnished with enough blankets for everyone and I certainly didn't pack any, so I wrapped up my face with a bath towel and tried to make the best of it. It turned out that "the best of it" was to lie on the floor shivering until the sun came up, walk to the kitchen and inter my face in the table until 9:00 AM.

At 9:30 I turned on the Wales v. Barbarians game. What is going on with Wales?

Later that day, after the bridal party had finished taking their photographs and everybody had re-congregated back at the church, the fun part actually began. It was probably the most indie wedding I've ever seen; the groomsmen's ensemble included TOM's shoes and cardigans. There was a four-part folk-praise band that laid a pretty swell groove and best of all, the sanctuary was blazingly hot.

All in all, it was a heart-warming culmination to a six-year love story. Also, it was the fastest bridal party I've ever seen. Apparently one the guys throws down a 3:57 mile. I've never done anything in 3:57.

Looking bad for the Bruins,

-Ryan