Sleep is whispering at me that she hates me. I kicked her brother in the belly at the beach and elbowed her grandmother in the ribs at the grocery line-up. I stand on stage in under twelve hours as Steve and Jenn say their chosen pledge words though I have yet to sleep from yesterday. However, I’ve been informed that I’m expected to arrive in ringlets and some sort of face-paint and I’m almost certain that in a few hours those sorts of places open. I’m half torn that I arrived home to an empty bed. I might have slept if there was someone in it. I got back at two:thirty in the morning, it was a possibility. “It’s not like I lock my door.”
People were so happy tonight. When I see everyone smile, it’s like a light clicking on. There was something about Jenn’s expression as she walked toward the stage in her jeans and little white shirt that made it special, even as a rehearsal. I could taste her joyful anticipation. She’s in love with him. She’s so very in love with him. Standing tip toe on the top step of a warped ladder, plastered against a wall to place thumbtacks full of tulle wasn’t on my expected list of things-to-do, but that made it worth it. I’m walking down an aisle and trying to place meaning on it, but that might have to simply be it. They’re in love and that means something again. I understand aspects of wanting to spend the rest of a life together. Over dinner we, the entire table, made fun of my married state with a married man. I can’t catch the bouquet, that would be depressing. I would cry. – Yes dear, but so would Rick if he caught it. It was acceptance in a rainy sort of bright sunshine, it was sweet. Almost everyone present had spoken vows. In an obscure way, you count as married, don’t worry about it. Then we went onto our more usual conversations of spatial theory, (Kalev and Consuela tried to explain fourth dimension objects to me with Derek scribbling factors on a napkin), the pop psychology inherent in the placement of Gideon Bibles, (I’ll have to get into this deeper at some point, because I think I have a rather valid point), and some generally complicated bits of language. (I paused when I realized that I was keeping up with these people on no sleep, “where is my foot and why is it not placed in my mouth?” but then dessert came and cleared all thoughts away because with dessert came fire). It’s known that in my heart we’re kept.
It’s going to be a mix of oddly decent people; it’s going to be embarrassing moment and people doubling over in laughter. I’m not worried that I’m going to trip because I turned to my aisle partner and solidly informed him that If I’m Going Down I’m Taking Him With Me. They gave us glasses with our names engraved; there’s so many details to this ritual which never would have occurred to me. It’s blinding the amount of planning, the sheer number of details to keep track of. Tear down will be simple, I made certain of it. Dishes may be the only thing to be concerned with, gathering the empties to leave it back in pristine condition for eight Sunday morning. Even the tables must be back in their exact positions. In me there’s surprise that these events don’t come with a stage manager.
This is going to be entertaining, Angus claims, and I believe him. This will be an experience of a sort perhaps never to be repeated. These two people should not marry anyone else, the arrangements are so unique that they might piss off anyone else. We’re walking to the stage to the Jurassic Park theme, Jedi robes are banned until the Reception, and the tables are labeled with the names and colours of Family Houses from a space opera that they both love. I’m impressed in so many ways that I can’t find the words to describe them so close to five a.m.
Holy Hell – it’s five a.m. Ray arrives at noon.
I suppose I should toss that sleep coin again. To be productive and filmy later and rely on my vampiric social tendencies to keep my alive or to collapse from my fingers to my toes into a hard bout of sleep? Is there anything I can wait for with any decency right now? Likely not. I’m going to set an alarm for three hours farther down the road. That fourth dimension thing, but not in geometry, in literal consequence spilling from my tired lips. I can build a structure judging by eye, but I cannot rebuild my own cells by concentrating. Not yet.