weddings
It's kind of ridiculous that with everything that's been going on lately my only post in three weeks was a retrospective. But what are you (my two readers) going to do about it? That's what I thought. Nothing.
My brother, Aaron, was married two weeks ago. You'd think I'd write about that now, but I'll get to that later. And there is plenty to tell. I should have written yesterday. I was feeling much more wordy then.
Instead, for now, I'm going to write about another wedding I went to this past weekend. My brother (the married one) was a groomsman in the wedding of a good friend of his from a church my family attended while I was in high school. Throughout the night I ran into a handful of players from that act in my life. Other than the groom's family, I also ran into two of the preacher's daughters. I shook hands with their husbands. We exchanged reminicent stories about carpooling to school, and updated stories about latest job and living status.
I also saw the parents of my best friend at the time. They didn't quite recognize me at first, but after dinner, they remembered well enough to threaten to show embarassing teenage photos when my wedding comes. These seems to be the big questions on everyone's mind. When is Andy getting married? And how is it possible that a younger brother could be married before the oldest?
While I was waiting in line for cake someone grabbed me and asked me if I'd seen Tiffany. I turned to the left and saw a girl bouncing an infant boy in her arms. This was my first girlfriend. It took me a second to recognize her (Aaron pointed out on the car ride home,'she really got chubby, huh.'). We hadn't dated for about twelve years, and I hadn't seen her for at least eight, but I still felt a touch of jealousy. I met her uninterested goateed husband. She introduced me, 'This is Andy, he was...' She stuttered for a long second, and I wanted to say, 'boyfriend, I was her boyfriend.' But, another girl finished her sentence, 'in the youthgroup with us. We used to hang out all the time.' He smiled politely, nodded and went back to the conversation he was having with another husband.
As conversations resumed, I updated a few more people with my standard response. I caught back up with the cake line, and sat back down with my family.
My brother, Aaron, was married two weeks ago. You'd think I'd write about that now, but I'll get to that later. And there is plenty to tell. I should have written yesterday. I was feeling much more wordy then.
Instead, for now, I'm going to write about another wedding I went to this past weekend. My brother (the married one) was a groomsman in the wedding of a good friend of his from a church my family attended while I was in high school. Throughout the night I ran into a handful of players from that act in my life. Other than the groom's family, I also ran into two of the preacher's daughters. I shook hands with their husbands. We exchanged reminicent stories about carpooling to school, and updated stories about latest job and living status.
I also saw the parents of my best friend at the time. They didn't quite recognize me at first, but after dinner, they remembered well enough to threaten to show embarassing teenage photos when my wedding comes. These seems to be the big questions on everyone's mind. When is Andy getting married? And how is it possible that a younger brother could be married before the oldest?
While I was waiting in line for cake someone grabbed me and asked me if I'd seen Tiffany. I turned to the left and saw a girl bouncing an infant boy in her arms. This was my first girlfriend. It took me a second to recognize her (Aaron pointed out on the car ride home,'she really got chubby, huh.'). We hadn't dated for about twelve years, and I hadn't seen her for at least eight, but I still felt a touch of jealousy. I met her uninterested goateed husband. She introduced me, 'This is Andy, he was...' She stuttered for a long second, and I wanted to say, 'boyfriend, I was her boyfriend.' But, another girl finished her sentence, 'in the youthgroup with us. We used to hang out all the time.' He smiled politely, nodded and went back to the conversation he was having with another husband.
As conversations resumed, I updated a few more people with my standard response. I caught back up with the cake line, and sat back down with my family.
posted by excellent excrement at 9:33 AM
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