Portland Play-By-Play
Some people *cough* Sheldon*cough* have been giving me a lot of crap about not posting here enough & since I proooomised from my vacaaaaation that I would dooooo this, here it is (happy birthday, motherfucker!):
So. It would't be me if there weren't a good story to tell about the flight.
Philly to San Francisco was fine. I spent a lot of time looking out the window trying to figure out if anything I saw was Missouri. I don't think it was. But I looked longingly anyway. Goddamn, but the Rockies are gorgeous from the air. I didn't read much of my book for all of the gaping out the window. Once we got over the desert I spent a lot of time trying to identify the Black Rock Desert. Failed there, too, but there sure were a lot of things that could have been.
Flying over Central Valley was kind of humbling. It was irrigated to death - or, rather, to life. You could see that it was very brown around the edges, and that the irrigation canals that criss-crossed the area like silver threads were the only think that made growing food possible. I wondered where all the water was coming in from. I thought maybe the Colorado, but it's sort of far north of that. Then I thought about how complicit I was, and how much I'd enjoyed those California cherries I'd had a few days before. Sigh. Gotta commit better to eating local.
So then I landed in SFO. Impressions:
1) nobody was yelling at their kids.
2) Even if you pay $10 for it, an airport omelette tastes like shit. but you can't screw up hash-browns.
3) flight delayed 15 min for no apparent reason.
And here's where the fun begins:
I got on the plane and went to my row. While I put my bag up in the overhead bin, I said, "this is me, guys" to the two men sitting in the aisle and center seats. They don't respond. I say something again.
The guy on the aisle gets out his ticket and starts pointing and making vocalizations - he's deaf (no wonder he ignored my comment). His ticket is for a center seat two rows back, and would I be willing to switch with him so he can sit with his friend? I say (or rather, gesture) no, I'm in the window seat - I am not the sucker you seek. So they rise and let me into my seat.
I settled in, took a deep breath, and found myself inhaling some serious vodka stink. These guys are trashed. Now, unfortunately when deaf guys do the drunk loud-talking thing, they do it with larger signing. Which means that I'm plastered against the windows while the drunk deaf duo have a very animated conversation replete with the random unintentional vocalizations and extremely loud laughter that deaf folks totally can't help but it still annoying as hell when you're trapped next to it for hours.
Right around then, the flight crew announced that there was a flight from Orlando with 24 of our passengers on it which has been delayed and we're going to wait for them. I convey this to the guys by typing it out on my phone. And as I am rocked incessantly by their vigorous signing, I begin to regret that I didn't take that center seat 2 rows back. Oh and also, center seat guy has such broad shoulders that he is well across the arm rest and into my seat. I finally figured out that if I sit flat against my seat, I can actually get my body *behind* his shoulder and spend some time not making love to the window, which was already causing muscle spasms.
Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, down came the tray tables and out came the Magic: The Gathering cards. I believe my text to J went something like, "kill me now. please."
Finally, it was time to go. Finally. The flight attendant was unable to communicate to them that they needed to turn off their electronic devices and put their tray tables up, so that fell to me. I was cursing that I hadn't signed in 20 years. I either told them to turn off their phones or sodomize an old lady with the working end of a chihuahua, I can't be certain. Center seat guy then responded to a few emails and I swear would have left his damn phone on if I hadn't watched him until he shut it off. Then, blessedly, they went to sleep and I read.
On the ground, the absolutely adorable two-year-old in the seat in front of us pops up and says "hi" to each of us in turn.
In my defense, I would like to point out that I'd been up since 3:30 that morning and I wasn't really completely in control of my brain. But what I did next will stay with me for the rest of my life:
I said, "they can't hear you sweetie, they're deaf. That means they don't have ears."
What I meant to say was "that means they can't hear you," but no matter how often I've tried over the years, I've never managed to actually get the words back into my mouth once they've escaped. I think I tried to mumble a correction then, but I was so mortified that I just sort of busied myself with getting ready to get the hell off the Plane of Mysterious Karma.
Portland itself was just as I remembered it: verdant, cool, and cloudy. And containing my best friend. I got that wonderful sense that I always do of coming home.
Karen and I leaped pretty quickly into laughing and catching up and wedding prep. The next few days were a whirlwind of folding and washing and cutting and finding last minute whatnots.
I should explain: Karen is a sort of new-age Martha Stewart. The theme for her wedding was "buy as little new as possible". So she made all the napkins for the wedding out of vintage sheets & fabrics that she bought at second-hand stores. She sewed two contrasting ones together so that they were each unique - the napkins were her party favors & everyone was to take one home. She also made matching quilt tablecloths that incorporated the fabrics of the napkins & each table used a different color scheme. Yeah, she's nuts. Also, she bought up a bunch of mason jars & used them as glasses & vases. Oh, and her husband James made their wedding rings out of 1963 silver coins. The dress was a vintage 70's lace and linen getup that reminded me vaguely of the old Massengill commercials, but looked really gorgeous on her. James rented a kilt and the other miscellaneious kilt/tux trappings. They actually did manage to buy very few new things for the wedding. But that meant it was A LOT of work. I recall that for some reason she was offended when, on announcing her engagement, she told me she was going to keep it simple and I laughed. I was at her first wedding - I know what simple means to Karen:
There was the rolling of 110 sets of silverware into 110 napkins. Which I did while Karen baked another half dozen loaves of coconut bread and her brother evilrat washed more mason jars than I even knew the universe contained.
There was the chopping of some 15 pounds of carrots, a dozen heads of broccoli, five pounds of green beans, a dozen bunches of celery, and probably some other stuff. It took three of us about 3 hours to chop all of those veggies. That was the easy part. Her friend Martha strangely likes to cook for incredibly large groups of people, so she volunteered to cater Karen's wedding. All she asked for was veggie prep. Inder the circumstances, I feel I got off light.
There was the driving to several stores to pick up miscellaneous odds & ends, like 10 of those 2.5 gallon spigot-jugs of water and the tea and lemonade to mix into some of them. Best part, we bought them at a place called, "Bi-Mart." How do they check? That's what I want to know. A lot of old people shopped there. The west coast is so progressive.
There was the cutting of the flowers from her yard for the table arrangements. Roses have thorns, in case you'd forgotten.
And of course there was the hauling of more than could be crammed into a Volvo station wagon across town to Sauvie Island to set everything up. Thank goodness for friends with vans.
Not, of course, to mention the intermittent pre-wedding freak-outs, the will-it-rain-or-won't-it hand wringing regarding whether or not to rent the $1k 40x60 tent to cover the event, the rehearsal & subsequent very fun dinner in which I ate much schnitzel at Gustav's & drank incredible chocolate covered strawberry cocktails and the dirty joke and punnery mayhem that is always her family. Oh, and we got mani-pedi's on Saturday morning with mimosas - yay for nail pampering mixed with alcohol!
But so, Sunday was the big day, and there was much car unloading and more guerrilla flower cutting, and of course since the tent was rented, the sun shone beautifully on the most perfect day of the entire trip. We scrambled around to try and get things as much in order as possible, but at a certain point it was time to go start getting the bride ready, so Karen & I left for her friend's mom's boathouse nearby and left the remaining setup to family and a gaggle of friends who had shown up for that purpose.
We arrived at the boathouse to find that the friend's baby was taking a nap. Because isn't that how you imagine getting ready for the one of the most important events in your life? By not making a goddamn sound? I know that's what comes to MY mind! But still, it was very generous of her to let us use her house to get ready, etc.
Karen looked lovely (I was feeling a bit too boobalicious, but thank goodness for cardigans) and the photographer got to work on the whole pre-ceremony photo thing while I went downstairs to check on James, figure out how to put on the sporran which seemed to be about 20 inches too short, and braid his hair. Once he was all ready, we got him into the bathroom so that Karen could be put in place for the "first look" picture, which was adorable because they just love each other so much.
There was more picture taking, and finally it was time. For some reason I was very nervous (probably because I'd agreed to coordinate the whole thing, so if anything went wrong it was on me). So James drove me down to the site and I talked to the band real quick about how I would queue them to start playing "Here Comes The Sun" when Karen was ready to walk. James brought Sandy, Karen's mom, to her seat and got into place. I queued the band and ran to my seat before I started drawing attention away. She looked lovely, her father looked proud. The sun shone gloriously.
They put wreaths on each others' heads, David said a wonderful homily about the few choices we really get in life, and they started reading the vows they wrote to one another. In the middle of Karen's, a boy of about 9 ambled across the fence from the orchard and started wandering around behind the altar. So I ran up and walked him back to the tent and to his father's table. Dad, for some reason, was completely indifferent to the situation. West coast parenting....I'll never understand.
I made it back to my seat in time for the last few words of Karen's vows. James' were lovely. I especially remember him saying, "thinking back, it seems like everything I know about love I learned from you," which still makes me smile.
The community said their vows to the couple, then they were off for more pictures. I announced to folks that they could help themselves to a drink and relax until it was time to eat. People rushed the drinks....at which point I realized that NOBODY HAD BOTHERED TO SET UP THE DRINKS, or even made a space for them. I quickly moved around a mountain of rolls so that I could put those drink things up on the table. Someone with a knife punctured the tops, someone else managed to tap the beer & mead kegs. Around this point I notice that the rented plates are still bagged up and in crates. So I moved Mt. St. Roll once again and piled all the plates up on the table, then checked in with Martha to be sure she had everything she needed to serve a whole effin lot of pulled pork sandwiches.
Around then I noticed that I was being called to be in a couple pictures. We did that and I started to steer them toward the food, except that guests started to swarm the happy couple like so many congratulatory locusts. As we had a crew coming to take our tent away in a couple hours, I did my best to get them moving toward the food so that everyone could eat. I got them drinks and set them at their places. I got plates and put them in their hands. I told the nice people they were talking to that nobody was gonna get to eat until the bride & groom ate. I physically pushed them toward the food.
Having loaded up their plates, they then stood there talking to the ongoing swarm of well-wishing guests. I took their plates, put glasses in their hands, and gave them about 20 minutes to talk. Then, once again, I told them they needed to come and eat if they were gonna. I told the guy they were talking to to please come join us at the table. Once they were eating, I finally went to get a plate for myself.
By the time I came back....they were up and talking again! GAH! I think it was around here that I texted J and told him how happy I was that we'd eloped.
Having done the can't-eat-talking wedding thing before, I let them talk until we were past cake-cutting time, then I told them to eat a few more bites & I rang the bell for cake-cutting. The cake, by the way, was made by another friend of Karen's (the one whose mom let us use her house). It was gorgeous: bright yellow smooth buttercream icing, with little daisies piped around the edges. There were three flavors: strawberry cream (my favorite), chocolate, and Gran Marnier (my second favorite). She's a cake friggin genius. Around then I realized that we had no one to cut the cake into pieces for the guests. Fortunately the cake baker was willing, because I am more of a cake-butcher than cake-cutter.
So cake served, I started asking around about who would be doing cleanup. Nobody actually knew. We all know what that means! I started gathering plates and scraping them off. A few other people started to help gather them & blessedly the caterer's daughter rinsed off all the plates for us, which is how the rental company wanted them: rinsed and returned to their crates. The caterer did most of the scraping, though she'd asked not to have to be involved in cleanup, bless her.
Karen took me aside and told me to relax. She also told me we were totally even now (she wiped my butt during my delivery and did the perineum-compress duty. I totally owe her for my lack of episiotomy). I told her I'll still wipe her ass when she's giving birth. That's love. We both got a little teary because we knew goodbye was imminent. I'm teary again just typing it.
I still helped, but maybe just a little less. Somehow things did manage to get cleaned up and boxed and loaded into cars. Somehow the whole thing was over before it began. I realized that I hadn't really experienced the wedding much. But I also realized that I'd successfully avoided awkward conversations with people I don't really like because I'd been busy carrying around a clipboard, so it all sort of evens out. Also, I put out a bunch of fires so my best friend could just enjoy marrying her true love. So that beats the hell out of my selfish enjoyment as a guest anyday.
Finally it was time for goodbye. There was much crying. David the Rev. Awesome let me cry into his chest for a few minutes after they drove away & finally Karen's folks drove me to my friend Tom's house where I was to stay until my flight left the next day.
I adore Tom & his family. Tom & I have been friends since we were very young & his was another family I was an honorary member of. Back when I got knocked up, his parents assumed it was his & were actually a little disappointed when she wasn't. He's married to a wonderful woman, Kim, who I just adore, and they have a one year old son, Henry, who is the cutest little cherub ever & just the most easygoing baby. They're great parents.
We hung out & chatted & ate bbq & drank wine. They played Kurt Elling for me & got me caught up on family gossip until we crashed. Next morning, Tom & Henry & I went to Tin Shed, which has the most amazing breakfast in the universe, and I blissed out on Goat Boy, which is eggs scrambled with balsamic grilled portobello strips, sundried tomatoes, a bit of spinach, and topped with goat cheese & served with a biscuit & potato pancake. I sent a gloating pix msg to J. I'm a bad wife.
Then we all went to the Columbia (the outdoor brand with the tough mom?) Employee store where I gorged on employee discounted gear. Karen's dad's friend works for Columbia & gave him a handful of guest passes, of which I got one & shared with Tom & Kim. Unfortunately, I didn't consider where 2 raincoats, 3 pairs of shoes & a pair of pants were going to fit in my already overpacked suitcase, so I had to leave the shoes for Kim to mail.
We rushed to the airport - running very late - but I made it through the security line & to the gate before boarding even began (PDX security is pretty awesome) so I had time to buy a sandwich for the plane. The first leg of the flight was nice & I enjoyed watching the landscape go by, especially the mountains.
Then came the second leg, which will henceforth be faced with much dread, because after two fuckups in a row, I'm pretty sure the second leg of the flight is out to get me. I got on the plane in Denver & went to my row, where someone was already sitting in my seat. We showed each other our tickets & discovered that we both had my seat assignment. She was probably about 14 & sitting with her brother, so I took it upon myself to be the one to sort it out & get stuck in the center seat. At first it looked good & I was gonna keep my seat & she was moved to another seat...where her mother was already sitting. Take 2 put me in the dreaded center seat, but my seatmates were very nice & it was the least unpleasant center seat experience I've ever had. And hey, they gave me a free $6 snackbox for my trouble!
We landed in Philly at about 12:30AM and I could feel the east coast descend upon my chest. I can't quite describe it, but being out there with those guys just made me more me, and I feel myself slipping away a little more every day, like Charlie in Flowers for Algernon. It'll probably be a couple years till I get back, & I'll probably be sort of sad and lonely when I make it there again. But C will be grown in just six years, which means I'll only have to visit a few more times before I'm loading my stuff on a truck and finally moving where I belong, 15 years after I meant to go there. I can make it just fine. I have J, I have you awesome people I at least get to see at PDF, I have my new Red Tent friends, I have the internet, and the last six years went by in a blink, so there's no reason the next six wouldn't.
So, Sheldon, happy now? ;)
So. It would't be me if there weren't a good story to tell about the flight.
Philly to San Francisco was fine. I spent a lot of time looking out the window trying to figure out if anything I saw was Missouri. I don't think it was. But I looked longingly anyway. Goddamn, but the Rockies are gorgeous from the air. I didn't read much of my book for all of the gaping out the window. Once we got over the desert I spent a lot of time trying to identify the Black Rock Desert. Failed there, too, but there sure were a lot of things that could have been.
Flying over Central Valley was kind of humbling. It was irrigated to death - or, rather, to life. You could see that it was very brown around the edges, and that the irrigation canals that criss-crossed the area like silver threads were the only think that made growing food possible. I wondered where all the water was coming in from. I thought maybe the Colorado, but it's sort of far north of that. Then I thought about how complicit I was, and how much I'd enjoyed those California cherries I'd had a few days before. Sigh. Gotta commit better to eating local.
So then I landed in SFO. Impressions:
1) nobody was yelling at their kids.
2) Even if you pay $10 for it, an airport omelette tastes like shit. but you can't screw up hash-browns.
3) flight delayed 15 min for no apparent reason.
And here's where the fun begins:
I got on the plane and went to my row. While I put my bag up in the overhead bin, I said, "this is me, guys" to the two men sitting in the aisle and center seats. They don't respond. I say something again.
The guy on the aisle gets out his ticket and starts pointing and making vocalizations - he's deaf (no wonder he ignored my comment). His ticket is for a center seat two rows back, and would I be willing to switch with him so he can sit with his friend? I say (or rather, gesture) no, I'm in the window seat - I am not the sucker you seek. So they rise and let me into my seat.
I settled in, took a deep breath, and found myself inhaling some serious vodka stink. These guys are trashed. Now, unfortunately when deaf guys do the drunk loud-talking thing, they do it with larger signing. Which means that I'm plastered against the windows while the drunk deaf duo have a very animated conversation replete with the random unintentional vocalizations and extremely loud laughter that deaf folks totally can't help but it still annoying as hell when you're trapped next to it for hours.
Right around then, the flight crew announced that there was a flight from Orlando with 24 of our passengers on it which has been delayed and we're going to wait for them. I convey this to the guys by typing it out on my phone. And as I am rocked incessantly by their vigorous signing, I begin to regret that I didn't take that center seat 2 rows back. Oh and also, center seat guy has such broad shoulders that he is well across the arm rest and into my seat. I finally figured out that if I sit flat against my seat, I can actually get my body *behind* his shoulder and spend some time not making love to the window, which was already causing muscle spasms.
Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, down came the tray tables and out came the Magic: The Gathering cards. I believe my text to J went something like, "kill me now. please."
Finally, it was time to go. Finally. The flight attendant was unable to communicate to them that they needed to turn off their electronic devices and put their tray tables up, so that fell to me. I was cursing that I hadn't signed in 20 years. I either told them to turn off their phones or sodomize an old lady with the working end of a chihuahua, I can't be certain. Center seat guy then responded to a few emails and I swear would have left his damn phone on if I hadn't watched him until he shut it off. Then, blessedly, they went to sleep and I read.
On the ground, the absolutely adorable two-year-old in the seat in front of us pops up and says "hi" to each of us in turn.
In my defense, I would like to point out that I'd been up since 3:30 that morning and I wasn't really completely in control of my brain. But what I did next will stay with me for the rest of my life:
I said, "they can't hear you sweetie, they're deaf. That means they don't have ears."
What I meant to say was "that means they can't hear you," but no matter how often I've tried over the years, I've never managed to actually get the words back into my mouth once they've escaped. I think I tried to mumble a correction then, but I was so mortified that I just sort of busied myself with getting ready to get the hell off the Plane of Mysterious Karma.
Portland itself was just as I remembered it: verdant, cool, and cloudy. And containing my best friend. I got that wonderful sense that I always do of coming home.
Karen and I leaped pretty quickly into laughing and catching up and wedding prep. The next few days were a whirlwind of folding and washing and cutting and finding last minute whatnots.
I should explain: Karen is a sort of new-age Martha Stewart. The theme for her wedding was "buy as little new as possible". So she made all the napkins for the wedding out of vintage sheets & fabrics that she bought at second-hand stores. She sewed two contrasting ones together so that they were each unique - the napkins were her party favors & everyone was to take one home. She also made matching quilt tablecloths that incorporated the fabrics of the napkins & each table used a different color scheme. Yeah, she's nuts. Also, she bought up a bunch of mason jars & used them as glasses & vases. Oh, and her husband James made their wedding rings out of 1963 silver coins. The dress was a vintage 70's lace and linen getup that reminded me vaguely of the old Massengill commercials, but looked really gorgeous on her. James rented a kilt and the other miscellaneious kilt/tux trappings. They actually did manage to buy very few new things for the wedding. But that meant it was A LOT of work. I recall that for some reason she was offended when, on announcing her engagement, she told me she was going to keep it simple and I laughed. I was at her first wedding - I know what simple means to Karen:
There was the rolling of 110 sets of silverware into 110 napkins. Which I did while Karen baked another half dozen loaves of coconut bread and her brother evilrat washed more mason jars than I even knew the universe contained.
There was the chopping of some 15 pounds of carrots, a dozen heads of broccoli, five pounds of green beans, a dozen bunches of celery, and probably some other stuff. It took three of us about 3 hours to chop all of those veggies. That was the easy part. Her friend Martha strangely likes to cook for incredibly large groups of people, so she volunteered to cater Karen's wedding. All she asked for was veggie prep. Inder the circumstances, I feel I got off light.
There was the driving to several stores to pick up miscellaneous odds & ends, like 10 of those 2.5 gallon spigot-jugs of water and the tea and lemonade to mix into some of them. Best part, we bought them at a place called, "Bi-Mart." How do they check? That's what I want to know. A lot of old people shopped there. The west coast is so progressive.
There was the cutting of the flowers from her yard for the table arrangements. Roses have thorns, in case you'd forgotten.
And of course there was the hauling of more than could be crammed into a Volvo station wagon across town to Sauvie Island to set everything up. Thank goodness for friends with vans.
Not, of course, to mention the intermittent pre-wedding freak-outs, the will-it-rain-or-won't-it hand wringing regarding whether or not to rent the $1k 40x60 tent to cover the event, the rehearsal & subsequent very fun dinner in which I ate much schnitzel at Gustav's & drank incredible chocolate covered strawberry cocktails and the dirty joke and punnery mayhem that is always her family. Oh, and we got mani-pedi's on Saturday morning with mimosas - yay for nail pampering mixed with alcohol!
But so, Sunday was the big day, and there was much car unloading and more guerrilla flower cutting, and of course since the tent was rented, the sun shone beautifully on the most perfect day of the entire trip. We scrambled around to try and get things as much in order as possible, but at a certain point it was time to go start getting the bride ready, so Karen & I left for her friend's mom's boathouse nearby and left the remaining setup to family and a gaggle of friends who had shown up for that purpose.
We arrived at the boathouse to find that the friend's baby was taking a nap. Because isn't that how you imagine getting ready for the one of the most important events in your life? By not making a goddamn sound? I know that's what comes to MY mind! But still, it was very generous of her to let us use her house to get ready, etc.
Karen looked lovely (I was feeling a bit too boobalicious, but thank goodness for cardigans) and the photographer got to work on the whole pre-ceremony photo thing while I went downstairs to check on James, figure out how to put on the sporran which seemed to be about 20 inches too short, and braid his hair. Once he was all ready, we got him into the bathroom so that Karen could be put in place for the "first look" picture, which was adorable because they just love each other so much.
There was more picture taking, and finally it was time. For some reason I was very nervous (probably because I'd agreed to coordinate the whole thing, so if anything went wrong it was on me). So James drove me down to the site and I talked to the band real quick about how I would queue them to start playing "Here Comes The Sun" when Karen was ready to walk. James brought Sandy, Karen's mom, to her seat and got into place. I queued the band and ran to my seat before I started drawing attention away. She looked lovely, her father looked proud. The sun shone gloriously.
They put wreaths on each others' heads, David said a wonderful homily about the few choices we really get in life, and they started reading the vows they wrote to one another. In the middle of Karen's, a boy of about 9 ambled across the fence from the orchard and started wandering around behind the altar. So I ran up and walked him back to the tent and to his father's table. Dad, for some reason, was completely indifferent to the situation. West coast parenting....I'll never understand.
I made it back to my seat in time for the last few words of Karen's vows. James' were lovely. I especially remember him saying, "thinking back, it seems like everything I know about love I learned from you," which still makes me smile.
The community said their vows to the couple, then they were off for more pictures. I announced to folks that they could help themselves to a drink and relax until it was time to eat. People rushed the drinks....at which point I realized that NOBODY HAD BOTHERED TO SET UP THE DRINKS, or even made a space for them. I quickly moved around a mountain of rolls so that I could put those drink things up on the table. Someone with a knife punctured the tops, someone else managed to tap the beer & mead kegs. Around this point I notice that the rented plates are still bagged up and in crates. So I moved Mt. St. Roll once again and piled all the plates up on the table, then checked in with Martha to be sure she had everything she needed to serve a whole effin lot of pulled pork sandwiches.
Around then I noticed that I was being called to be in a couple pictures. We did that and I started to steer them toward the food, except that guests started to swarm the happy couple like so many congratulatory locusts. As we had a crew coming to take our tent away in a couple hours, I did my best to get them moving toward the food so that everyone could eat. I got them drinks and set them at their places. I got plates and put them in their hands. I told the nice people they were talking to that nobody was gonna get to eat until the bride & groom ate. I physically pushed them toward the food.
Having loaded up their plates, they then stood there talking to the ongoing swarm of well-wishing guests. I took their plates, put glasses in their hands, and gave them about 20 minutes to talk. Then, once again, I told them they needed to come and eat if they were gonna. I told the guy they were talking to to please come join us at the table. Once they were eating, I finally went to get a plate for myself.
By the time I came back....they were up and talking again! GAH! I think it was around here that I texted J and told him how happy I was that we'd eloped.
Having done the can't-eat-talking wedding thing before, I let them talk until we were past cake-cutting time, then I told them to eat a few more bites & I rang the bell for cake-cutting. The cake, by the way, was made by another friend of Karen's (the one whose mom let us use her house). It was gorgeous: bright yellow smooth buttercream icing, with little daisies piped around the edges. There were three flavors: strawberry cream (my favorite), chocolate, and Gran Marnier (my second favorite). She's a cake friggin genius. Around then I realized that we had no one to cut the cake into pieces for the guests. Fortunately the cake baker was willing, because I am more of a cake-butcher than cake-cutter.
So cake served, I started asking around about who would be doing cleanup. Nobody actually knew. We all know what that means! I started gathering plates and scraping them off. A few other people started to help gather them & blessedly the caterer's daughter rinsed off all the plates for us, which is how the rental company wanted them: rinsed and returned to their crates. The caterer did most of the scraping, though she'd asked not to have to be involved in cleanup, bless her.
Karen took me aside and told me to relax. She also told me we were totally even now (she wiped my butt during my delivery and did the perineum-compress duty. I totally owe her for my lack of episiotomy). I told her I'll still wipe her ass when she's giving birth. That's love. We both got a little teary because we knew goodbye was imminent. I'm teary again just typing it.
I still helped, but maybe just a little less. Somehow things did manage to get cleaned up and boxed and loaded into cars. Somehow the whole thing was over before it began. I realized that I hadn't really experienced the wedding much. But I also realized that I'd successfully avoided awkward conversations with people I don't really like because I'd been busy carrying around a clipboard, so it all sort of evens out. Also, I put out a bunch of fires so my best friend could just enjoy marrying her true love. So that beats the hell out of my selfish enjoyment as a guest anyday.
Finally it was time for goodbye. There was much crying. David the Rev. Awesome let me cry into his chest for a few minutes after they drove away & finally Karen's folks drove me to my friend Tom's house where I was to stay until my flight left the next day.
I adore Tom & his family. Tom & I have been friends since we were very young & his was another family I was an honorary member of. Back when I got knocked up, his parents assumed it was his & were actually a little disappointed when she wasn't. He's married to a wonderful woman, Kim, who I just adore, and they have a one year old son, Henry, who is the cutest little cherub ever & just the most easygoing baby. They're great parents.
We hung out & chatted & ate bbq & drank wine. They played Kurt Elling for me & got me caught up on family gossip until we crashed. Next morning, Tom & Henry & I went to Tin Shed, which has the most amazing breakfast in the universe, and I blissed out on Goat Boy, which is eggs scrambled with balsamic grilled portobello strips, sundried tomatoes, a bit of spinach, and topped with goat cheese & served with a biscuit & potato pancake. I sent a gloating pix msg to J. I'm a bad wife.
Then we all went to the Columbia (the outdoor brand with the tough mom?) Employee store where I gorged on employee discounted gear. Karen's dad's friend works for Columbia & gave him a handful of guest passes, of which I got one & shared with Tom & Kim. Unfortunately, I didn't consider where 2 raincoats, 3 pairs of shoes & a pair of pants were going to fit in my already overpacked suitcase, so I had to leave the shoes for Kim to mail.
We rushed to the airport - running very late - but I made it through the security line & to the gate before boarding even began (PDX security is pretty awesome) so I had time to buy a sandwich for the plane. The first leg of the flight was nice & I enjoyed watching the landscape go by, especially the mountains.
Then came the second leg, which will henceforth be faced with much dread, because after two fuckups in a row, I'm pretty sure the second leg of the flight is out to get me. I got on the plane in Denver & went to my row, where someone was already sitting in my seat. We showed each other our tickets & discovered that we both had my seat assignment. She was probably about 14 & sitting with her brother, so I took it upon myself to be the one to sort it out & get stuck in the center seat. At first it looked good & I was gonna keep my seat & she was moved to another seat...where her mother was already sitting. Take 2 put me in the dreaded center seat, but my seatmates were very nice & it was the least unpleasant center seat experience I've ever had. And hey, they gave me a free $6 snackbox for my trouble!
We landed in Philly at about 12:30AM and I could feel the east coast descend upon my chest. I can't quite describe it, but being out there with those guys just made me more me, and I feel myself slipping away a little more every day, like Charlie in Flowers for Algernon. It'll probably be a couple years till I get back, & I'll probably be sort of sad and lonely when I make it there again. But C will be grown in just six years, which means I'll only have to visit a few more times before I'm loading my stuff on a truck and finally moving where I belong, 15 years after I meant to go there. I can make it just fine. I have J, I have you awesome people I at least get to see at PDF, I have my new Red Tent friends, I have the internet, and the last six years went by in a blink, so there's no reason the next six wouldn't.
So, Sheldon, happy now? ;)