Hear comes the groom, skinny as a...
Okay, so I didn't say anything about the nifty weekend I had with my girlfriend. Running through airports carrying 2 suitcases and a backpack is not that hard, unless you're also trying to follow someone who's idea of "leading" is "wait for someone else to show me where to go." I'm fairly certain if I hadn't made her give me the tickets, she would have tried to leave me. No exaggeration: We're in the Atlanta airport, trying to get to our concourse, and we find the tram that goes to concourse C. She is standing in front of me, just standing there, as people rush onto the tram. Once the doors start closing, she waits a fraction of a second, then bolts in, making it just in time to have the doors slam in my face. Good times.
But anyways, the trip there I got told hold my girlfriends hair back as she used the little doggy bags (no, not for the onboard Easter Egg hunt). There's just something about holding a paper sack full of your loved one's vomit that just creates a bond beyond words. And by "bond" I mean "bitterness that she wouldn't take the danged dramamine." But we got there okay with all of our luggage, if not a few ounces a lighter.
Friday night was fun. I was assigned to stay in the same hotel room her brother (SF) was, and didn't wreak nearly the havok you probably thought I would. While he was worrying about all the things that might go wrong, Lance I and began to see who could come up with the worst "worst case scenario" possible. I think we finally tied when he hypothesized that the wedding could be struck by a massive tornado, and all those in attendence could be crushed underneath the wreakage of the demolished church, only to have our minds still active, but our bodies totally destroyed, living out the rest of our days as vegetables, a constant burden to our families with no way to interact with the outside world. Mine was that maybe Amy would turn out to be a transvestite. At that point we decided to stop the game.
I would like to think that later in the evening I was a bit more supportive. While he was fretting and tossing and turning and moaning about "what if, what if, what if" etc, worried that he and Amy might be making a terrible mistake, I asked him, "SF, what's the most important thing in your life righr now?" He responded, "Um, God." So I asked, "And what's the second most important thing in your life?" Without hestitating, "Amy." "Relax," I said, "You'll be fine." (Joey gave me commendation later on for having my first positive interaction with SF in the 3 years we've known each other).
On further contemplation, I may have been over simplifying the situation. Yes, marraige is forever. Yes, this was a strict covenant between God, SF, and Amy, and yes, it was going to affect the rest of their lives. Perhaps they aren't "right" for each other. Maybe they don't know "everything" about each other. Maybe they forgot to tell each other that Amy releases half her weight in methane each night while she sleeps and SF thinks cultivating CDC-banned mold cultures in his shower is a viable hobby. But in my, under-experienced, technically-single, never-been-married, immature view of marraige, as long as each member makes his/her first responsibility to God, and second to their spouse, everything else can be taken care of in its time.
Of course, I pray that's the way it is. Otherwise, my longest romantic relationship would only last as long as my first spoken sentence to the other person.
#2 on my amusing interactions with SF came when one of his best men, who has been married for about 2 years, was trying to give him some actual helpful, experienced advise: "Always argue naked." While he was trying to line up all the reasons (some serious, some not) why this was a viable means of conflict resolution, I just could not see the benefit of it. While he was in the midst of explaining how it would change your perspective on the situation, I simply noted, "That's ridiculous. You can't argue with a naked angry woman. At least, no man is ever gonna WIN an argument with a naked woman. He'll just end up distracted and then desperate to agree with anything, so long as she'll stay naked." SF turned to me and said, "How do YOU know?" I just responded, "Don't worry, your sister has never been that angry with me." To his credit, he did not throw anything at me that was technically hotel property.
The wedding itself was just lovely. I wish I could remember the name of the college, because it had the most beautiful campus I've been to, (and that's including www.hot-coeds.edu). Amy became a Christian while in school, so she opted to have the ceremony at the campus chapel. The chapel itself had beautiful large stain-glass windows which, despite being tinted like an Easter-candy induced hallucination, filled the room with glorious sunlight (sorry, feeling a bit melodramatic). The ceremony was very.... well.... ceremonial, how about that? That's a good term for it. Imagine a wedding ceremony were there is no flower girl, ring bearer, or "speak now or forever hold your peace" just so that there are fewer ways the ceremony could not go picture perfect. Well, it was very picture perfect. Except of course for the candle up on the altar that was left from some as-of-yet-unidentified ceremony the night before. It was a rainbow-colored ankh. Nobody noticed it 'til the ceremony had already started. :-)
In any case, my girlfriend read her passage from Luke loud and clear where everyone could hear, and there was much rejoicing. And there was much receptioning. I swear though, if any of you are ever at my wedding, PLEASE make it a party. The actual wedding can be a little slow on the excitement factor, but I don't think I heard anyone laughing in a loudish manner at the reception besides Joey and myself, and, well... that just doesn't count.
Anyways, if I was to recount all the horror stories of things I did to poor SF this past weekend, you would probably deny you ever knew me. Of course, if you DON'T know me and just read through this whole blog for the heck of it:
A) you're really weird
B) get a life
C) if you want to know more, just post a comment and I'll fill you in :-)
But anyways, the trip there I got told hold my girlfriends hair back as she used the little doggy bags (no, not for the onboard Easter Egg hunt). There's just something about holding a paper sack full of your loved one's vomit that just creates a bond beyond words. And by "bond" I mean "bitterness that she wouldn't take the danged dramamine." But we got there okay with all of our luggage, if not a few ounces a lighter.
Friday night was fun. I was assigned to stay in the same hotel room her brother (SF) was, and didn't wreak nearly the havok you probably thought I would. While he was worrying about all the things that might go wrong, Lance I and began to see who could come up with the worst "worst case scenario" possible. I think we finally tied when he hypothesized that the wedding could be struck by a massive tornado, and all those in attendence could be crushed underneath the wreakage of the demolished church, only to have our minds still active, but our bodies totally destroyed, living out the rest of our days as vegetables, a constant burden to our families with no way to interact with the outside world. Mine was that maybe Amy would turn out to be a transvestite. At that point we decided to stop the game.
I would like to think that later in the evening I was a bit more supportive. While he was fretting and tossing and turning and moaning about "what if, what if, what if" etc, worried that he and Amy might be making a terrible mistake, I asked him, "SF, what's the most important thing in your life righr now?" He responded, "Um, God." So I asked, "And what's the second most important thing in your life?" Without hestitating, "Amy." "Relax," I said, "You'll be fine." (Joey gave me commendation later on for having my first positive interaction with SF in the 3 years we've known each other).
On further contemplation, I may have been over simplifying the situation. Yes, marraige is forever. Yes, this was a strict covenant between God, SF, and Amy, and yes, it was going to affect the rest of their lives. Perhaps they aren't "right" for each other. Maybe they don't know "everything" about each other. Maybe they forgot to tell each other that Amy releases half her weight in methane each night while she sleeps and SF thinks cultivating CDC-banned mold cultures in his shower is a viable hobby. But in my, under-experienced, technically-single, never-been-married, immature view of marraige, as long as each member makes his/her first responsibility to God, and second to their spouse, everything else can be taken care of in its time.
Of course, I pray that's the way it is. Otherwise, my longest romantic relationship would only last as long as my first spoken sentence to the other person.
#2 on my amusing interactions with SF came when one of his best men, who has been married for about 2 years, was trying to give him some actual helpful, experienced advise: "Always argue naked." While he was trying to line up all the reasons (some serious, some not) why this was a viable means of conflict resolution, I just could not see the benefit of it. While he was in the midst of explaining how it would change your perspective on the situation, I simply noted, "That's ridiculous. You can't argue with a naked angry woman. At least, no man is ever gonna WIN an argument with a naked woman. He'll just end up distracted and then desperate to agree with anything, so long as she'll stay naked." SF turned to me and said, "How do YOU know?" I just responded, "Don't worry, your sister has never been that angry with me." To his credit, he did not throw anything at me that was technically hotel property.
The wedding itself was just lovely. I wish I could remember the name of the college, because it had the most beautiful campus I've been to, (and that's including www.hot-coeds.edu). Amy became a Christian while in school, so she opted to have the ceremony at the campus chapel. The chapel itself had beautiful large stain-glass windows which, despite being tinted like an Easter-candy induced hallucination, filled the room with glorious sunlight (sorry, feeling a bit melodramatic). The ceremony was very.... well.... ceremonial, how about that? That's a good term for it. Imagine a wedding ceremony were there is no flower girl, ring bearer, or "speak now or forever hold your peace" just so that there are fewer ways the ceremony could not go picture perfect. Well, it was very picture perfect. Except of course for the candle up on the altar that was left from some as-of-yet-unidentified ceremony the night before. It was a rainbow-colored ankh. Nobody noticed it 'til the ceremony had already started. :-)
In any case, my girlfriend read her passage from Luke loud and clear where everyone could hear, and there was much rejoicing. And there was much receptioning. I swear though, if any of you are ever at my wedding, PLEASE make it a party. The actual wedding can be a little slow on the excitement factor, but I don't think I heard anyone laughing in a loudish manner at the reception besides Joey and myself, and, well... that just doesn't count.
Anyways, if I was to recount all the horror stories of things I did to poor SF this past weekend, you would probably deny you ever knew me. Of course, if you DON'T know me and just read through this whole blog for the heck of it:
A) you're really weird
B) get a life
C) if you want to know more, just post a comment and I'll fill you in :-)
posted by ~!*~^~*!~ at
19:13
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