This past Thursday, I hopped on a plane to Austin, TX. I returned Monday afternoon. Here's what happened.
4 hrs sleep, night before flight.
3 hrs at the airport. Lots of downtime.
Get on plane, remember how terrified I am of take-off and landing.
Arrival.
Groom's cousin is a lot like me, this presents a person upon whom to rely when I feel like a fish out of water.
Bachelor party, part 1: The tame edition. Poker with family and local friends of the groom, JB. I meet the first of JB's ROTC buddies - he's more laid back than I expected. I also meet several of the bride's brothers, they are nerds - this pleases me, and provides for much conversation fodder.
6 hrs of sleep, first night in Austin.
Early morning wake-up call. Time for the rehearsal. JB wants to go casual, all his groomsmen wear shirts and ties. He changes.
We set up for the rehearsal reception, lots of furniture moving and food preparation. Everyone is surprised by my attention to detail, ability maximize a room's space, and the fact that I can mix country time lemonade. Thanks, CCF internship!
To the church! I'm matched up with the bride's younger, detail-oriented sister for the aisle. A mismatch, but one that lends itself to entertaining banter. I meet the bride's soon-to-be priest brother.
Back to the reception. I meet more of JB's ROTC friends, this particular groups is more the speed and disposition I expected, much to my chagrin.
JB, myself, his cousin, his brother, and the normal ROTC guy drive to downtown Austin to try on and pick up tuxes. Nothing really fits perfectly, but alas.
I get a phone call that I neither expected nor enjoyed. It bothers me for the rest of the weekend, I only share it with a select few that will allow me to bounce frustrations, since they know nothing of the source.
That night, bachelor party, part 2: the "eff bomb" edition. ROTC buddies want to go to college station, home of TX A&M, their alma mater. 2 hrs away. Me, JB, and his cousin leave at 8. The rest of them do not leave until we have already arrived due to an argument with a girlfriend. So, we get the pleasure of meeting a bunch of other ROTC friends, all of whom are pretty drunk before we even meet up with them. Somewhere during the night of trying to keep JB from get too wastey-faced, I misplace my phone. Huzzah. Eff bombs are said in copious volume by his friend, thought by me on several occasions regarding my phone.
2 hr drive home, arrival at 5 AM.
5 hrs sleep, second night in Austin.
My only day to relax. JB goes to bride's brother's ordination to the priesthood. It lasts a while. I read a lot more, watch a little TV on my computer, play a Mario game with JB's younger cousins, talk about things with his Uncle, eat Italian sausage, play more Mario, get to sleep at decent hour.
10 hrs sleep, third night in Austin.
Today is the day of the wedding. I wake up and ask JB how's he's doing. Nerves have begun to do a bit of gnawing at him. Not surprising.
Bachelor party, part 3: Ultimate frisbee addition. We go to play ultimate frisbee in TX heat, coupled with morning humidity. Scheduled for 2 and half hrs. Lasts 45 minutes. Then we play Mario. We are manly.
Time to get ready and head out for pictures at the church. I don my tux. The shoes are tight, but the next size up was super loose. My left ankle already kills. We arrive at church, take numerous pictures. I watch as family members come across more demanding and stressed than the bride and groom combined. Observation: Weddings are supposed to be about the two people being wed, but that's never really the case.
Ceremony begins. Bride is breath-taking. I get choked up a bit... the ROTC buddy next to me is crying a lot. I am amused. Vows are exchanged, rings are donned, prayer is shared. Mass continues. I forgot how long Mass could feel. Back down the aisle. Groomsmen grab lighters, bridesmaids grab sparklers. Yes, sparklers. I light clusters of sparklers, try not to get set on fire, move out of the way as the bride and groom make their get away, and choke on the massive cloud of smoke that has formed.
ROTC buddy finds me, returns my phone - there is much relief.
OFF TO THE RECEPTION.
The reception is ridiculous, and lasts for 6 hours. I give what I selfishly believe to be the most entertaining toast of the evening, recounting my growing up with the groom, and then get to the sappy ending: "I have seen that Sarah has made JB a better man, and I'm sure he has made her a better woman. I can't wait to see how that continues."
I have an experience that I liken to something right out of a romantic comedy, despite my intentions. After the toasts conclude, as the cakes are being cut, I start a converstaion with a bridesmaid, the best friend of the bride. I find her very sweet, in a completely innocent way, and share a lot of things with her simply because that's the kind of person I am. She formally introduces me to her aunt and her uncle-in-law (who is one of the bride's oldest brothers). Randomly, the uncle says that this girl is not my type, to which I respond, "How would you know?" Again, completely innocuous motive, just going along with what I thought was banter. This is said to me twice more during the night, leaving me an impression that I have done something wrong or that crossed a line.
The groomsmen and bridesmaids were forced to have a dance off. If not for "Jump on It," the groomsmen would have been destroyed. Instead, their was much provoca- suggestive hip movement and uproarious laughter. I continue talked off and on with the bridesmaid, she thinks I'm talking so much because I've had too much to drink. I feign insult and instead share the fact that I'm ridiculous nervous when I'm around people I don't know, especially in formal settings - which causes me to ramble to anyone who will allow me to do so. I sense her skepticism. Her parting comment to me involves a picture on facebook that she'd seen weeks prior to meeting me, that "made her day."
Then she's gone.
I get the remaining groomsmen to sing "You Lost that Lovin' Feelin'" to JB with me. At the line "But baby, baby I know..." We instead yell, at the top of our lungs, "But JB, JB I know..." Again, uproarious laughter.
I pilfer several of the table decorations, because I assume they shall not be missed and hope to use them for a project in the future. I ride home with the groom's brother (his best man), his mother, and his grandmother on that side. I peel myself from my tux, and collapse onto the mattress.
4 and 1/2 hours of sleep, fourth night in Austin.
I wake up to ride to the airport, get through security, go buy breakfast - and discover that my debit card is missing. More eff-bombs go off in my head. I call the groom's mother and ask her to look for it. She is unable to find it, so brings me some cash in case I cannot find it in my checked bag when I get to Atlanta. I get on the plane, grip the seat for take-off, grip the seat for landing, arrive in Atlanta.
Find my debit card buried in my checked bag at baggage claim. Huzzah! There is much relief.
I get into an airport shuttle, listen to the Braves best the Phillies, and go home.
12 hrs of sleep, first night back in Atlanta. Catch back up on sleep.
Tuesday, I do a whole lot of nothing. Don't feel well. Lose my phone again somewhere in the house.
10 hrs of sleep, second night back in Atlanta.
Today... today sucked. I wake up, go downstairs, and look for my phone. I find it. My phone has this bit of programming where it automatically saves a message that you've started if you shut your phone - this means I find a lot of texts that are no longer relevant stored away, and periodically go to the delete them. I decide to do some house-cleaning on it. Only to discover that a few really old text messages that I'd never intended to send and thought I'd deleted were no longer in my drafts, but my outbox. Along with a few I'd never typed. Apparently, whoever had my phone during the 40 or so hour period from Friday night to Sunday night had some fun with it. This is again, something I thought only happened in movies. I try to smooth these things out, and am met with understandable skepticism, which makes me respond with indignity. It is not pretty.
I place a phone call that I really need to make, and am met with a voicemail box. I don't leave a message, because though I need to make the call, I am not looking forward to it.
Friends call to have dinner, but I'm still not feeling well. Put forth an effort to pull it together, but unable to muster the necessary energy to go. Take a weird evening nap, get back up. 8:30PM has arrived.
Rest of the night, uneventful.
Tomorrow, I become a bigger cliche and move into my parents' basement.
The weekend was wonderful. However, my combination obsessiveness and disdain for misunderstanding has left me dwelling on two particular parts. The first, the situation this phantom texter has put me in.
The second, the conversation with the bridesmaid, which would have been nothing to dwell on if not for the comments from the peanut gallery and her seemingly out-of-place, parting line. And admittedly, I really enjoyed talking to her.
C'est la vie. Perhaps tomorrow will be different.
