First off, the wedding was spectacular. It was at terns beautiful, sentimental, silly, deeply romantic, spiritual, and a helluva lot of fun. It still astounds me how much work other people put into making something so beautiful for me and Dana. The insecure little kid who lives in my head is surprised that people actually like him. Go figure.
When I was a kid, you used to be able to buy little charms of a heart broken in two. The idea was that you’d keep half and whoever your girlfriend was that week would keep the other half. They still sell those, right? It’s been a while since I’ve been to one of those mall-stores where you can get your ears pierced and buy a lot of crappy sterling silver jewelry and hair scrunchies.
Time is playing with me all sorts of funny. (You read that right. All sorts of funny.) I feel like the last few months have flown by, like I’ve not been able to keep up. It’s all going so fast. And then, this week, it feels like time. Is. Dragging. I can’t stand it. I have only one reasonable explanation for time’s sudden shift into neutral: the wedding is but a short sixteen days away. Since July 1st hit, the wedding has seemed nothing but Imminent (I’m getting married this month!) and I’m excited as hell. And when you’re waiting for something, and excited as hell, time stops.
I’m going to write something pretty reflective right now. It’s Sunday morning, it’s gorgeous out, Dana and I have an appointment with the florist for the wedding, and my life feels unmistakably like it’s about to transition, in a lot and very big ways.
Now that the wedding is so close, everything feels like it’s taking a back seat. I’m having a harder and harder time keeping my mind on the here and now and all my many many pet projects. And I find myself feeing very reluctant to make any plans until August. Now that I think about it, August feels like this great empty space. Between now and then, so much (all good stuff to be sure), and then August, this great unscheduled mass.
I really shouldn’t be writing. I should be doing my laundry. But I’ll get to that.
I know I know. I never call, I never write. It’s like I’ve dropped off the face of the planet. That’s how I’ve been feeling as of late, anyway, despite the fact that I have been keeping in relatively good touch with a lot of people lately. But mostly because I’ve been extraordinarily busy. Busy busy. Idle hands, and all that.
In case you don’t already know, Wil Wheaton has a blog. Yeah, that’s right. Wil Wheaton. The skinny kid from Star Trek and Stand By Me. And if you didn’t know he had a blog, you’re probably thinking something negative about the guy, but once you read the blog you’ll realize that he’s a far cry (and at once not that far at all) from the skinny kid on Star Trek. He’s insightful. Witty, even, and writes on everything from pop-culture to sci-fi to Suicide Girls. (That’s right, Suicide Girls.)
I got an email earlier today (or perhaps last night?) from my very good friend Juli who I haven’t spoken with in quite a while. In her email she asked about my new job and about something I wrote in my blog about another friend of mine whose relationship is coming to end. Both these comments made me realize that I must have been posting some rather random things in this little blog and not paying attention to the details. (And that Juli and I really need to catch up. We will! I promise!)