"Don't worry, Linds," she replied, laughing, "I'm taking everything you say with a giant bucket of kosher salt."
Coming from a gifted therapist, this remark was neither glib or dismissive, but honored where I was at and acknowledged, gently, that I was starting to lose my marbles, which happens frequently.
So I scooped up my marbles, put on my best summer dress, and went on with my summer. I had been anticipating two big trips to the Northwest, to attend weddings of some of my closest friends. I was in the wedding party for both of them, and went through the attending stress of digging out my old makeup, hoping my hair wouldn't look too poofy, and spending hours and hours looking for shoes. (I found shoes, fabulous yellow heels that I wore for both.)
It was lovely to escape the heat of a Texas summer and bask in the cool mornings and clear sunsets of the Northwest. You know when you open the oven to check on your muffins, and you get a blast of hot air in the face? That's what it feels like when you open the front door and walk outside on those blazing 102 degree days, of which there have been many.
So I apologize that I haven't written since early July- I was busy getting really sweaty in Austin, and flying on airplanes to Seattle, drinking cocktails with my father, napping with Guthrie, and giving toasts to celebrate the unions of some of my loveliest friends.
A highlight reel of the first wedding, which took place on the Olympic Peninsula, might go like this: we got our nails painted, Gabrielle looked gorgeous, I sang a Greg Brown song at the ceremony, and my parents hitch hiked on the ferry from Edmonds and got a ride with the caterer. I saw my old college friends: we danced to Bonnie Tyler, we drank Bulleit Bourbon and ate beet risotto and roast chicken, and my favorite friend from Montana drove into the ferry line with half a pizza on top of her car. (It fell into the road face up, but there were too many people around and she didn't want to be that girl eating road pizza, so she tossed it.)
I held it together through the ceremony, and then lost it as Gabi and Joe starting receiving their friends and family. I went and cried my eyes out on a rock, my sister brought me a glass of red wine and as I ranted about love and youth and growing old she looked me at said, "Dude, you aren't making any sense, but that's cool. Just let it out."
After the wedding I went back to my parents house for a few days, we sat around on the front porch and threw the ball for Roscoe the dog, admired the garden and the Japanese maple in the front yard, and ate pesto and steak and had lots of gin and tonics.
I saw one of my best friend's since high school, we went to Target and she bought baby clothes for her big sister, then went up to the roof of the hard rock cafe and looked out over Puget Sound on a perfect afternoon.
I was home in Austin for about 3 weeks, the days flew by in a blur of work, and naps, swimming with Steven and watching lots of Netflix.
I returned to Seattle and went straight to happy hour with my Dad after getting off the airplane. We had calamari caesar salad, oysters and fries, manhattans and martinis.
Two days later I hopped in the car with 3 guy friends I hadn't seen in years, we listened to hip hop and drank fizzy water and laughed the whole way to Troutdale, Oregon.
My dear pals Kyle and Maria got married in Blackberry Meadow at McMenamins, a funky hotel filled with colorful paintings that in the past had been both a poorhouse for farmers, and a sanitarium. If there were ghosts there, they all seemed happy. I'm sure they get to eat lots of leftover wedding cake once the guests leave.
We swam in the saltwater soaking pool, and someone gave Kyle a doughnut that looked like a wiener for his 31st birthday, which was the day before the wedding. Me and the other boys who were groomsmen (that's right, I wore a pretty dress and got to chill with the boys) told funny stories about living with Kyle, remembered sweet moments between him and Maria, and basked in the glow of bygone days. At the end of the ceremony, when it was time for them to kiss, Maria's nephew brought her a wooden box to stand on, and she still had to reach up to kiss Kyle. It was the sweetest of moments.
Then there was swing music, and drunk wedding crashers, classic dance moves that split open the backside of pants, and a dance circle involving a giant squash.
The day after the wedding, exhausted, my dear friend Samm drove me to Portland where we ate a giant breakfast of omelettes and bacon and a fresh croissant, and then I took a heavenly nap.
I met up with my college friends Schuyler and Kaitlyn that night- we saw a superb art show featuring poster art from iconic artist Chuck Sperry, ate dinner at a fabulous American craft restaurant called Nedd Ludd, waved at Carrie Brownstein, who was also eating there, and finished off the night with a rousing game of pinball at a local bar. I officiated Schuyler and Kaitlyn's wedding fours years ago- congrats you two, and here's to many more!
I spent a few more days in Seattle, eating a lot with my parents, listening to the Bo Deans, The Band, and the new Patty Griffin album with the windows open and a breeze blowing the through the house. Samm and I picked blackberries at the old school down the street, and Shelley made a crisp out the them that night. I've picked blackberries there since I was probably 4 years old- nothing smells and feels more like summer then the sound of the blackberries dropping into the stainless steel bowl, and the tart, sweet taste of sunshine and fruit.
I got on the plane back to Austin feeling a bit emotionally hungover from the past two months. Weddings are such a mix bag of joy and melancholy, I wasn't sure what I wanted to write about. I felt sadness at seeing how profoundly the social landscape has changed, but that is simply a reality of time. Our childhood friends grow up, some of us move away, we drift apart and then come back together, parents watch their kids find partners- I guess you could say there are a lot of feelings to be felt.
I was reminded how all relationships are different- that there will always be expectation in big events, that marriage and partnership are an imperfect mystery that we cannot entirely control. It is an intimate thing, that is truly between the two people in it. It is a blessing.
Coming home, all I wanted to do was eat BBQ sandwiches and watch The West Wing. I wanted to think myself silly regarding all these big ideas about growing up, marriage, relationships, and THE FUTURE. I wanted to take my bag of marbles and spill them all over the floor.
I have tried instead to do the few things that I drag my feet and whine about, but that I need most desperately. I went running, and tried to convince my muscles they will get strong again. I finally sat down to write, after finding a hundred excuses over the past two months why I wasn't ready to.
I have eaten some BBQ sandwiches and watched The West Wing, but I have tried my best to do other things too, like take Guthrie for walks, and weed the front yard, and sit with my Anne Lamott book and my coffee and take lots of deep breaths. I may go buy myself a bucket of kosher salt and put it on the shelf near my kitchen table, so in between big thoughts about life, I can remember to stay in the present, and not take myself too seriously.
