tsunami
The plan was that the groom would arrive at the airport to retrieve the pastor and myself, but instead came Kasey. He's the groomsman from Rye, in Westchester, who I'd been phone-friendly with the last couple of weeks and had never seen.
All I knew was he is Jewish, so I was surprised when a well-built, honey brown, golden-haired fellow came smiling towards me. All I could think was "oh shit."
Our conversations had really been too, too engaging and fun for him to then also be attractive.
The Atlanta haze was Ultra Violent, and I felt like a Dixie girl automatically. Kasey let me drive, since it was 4:00 and I miss Atlanta�s cross-town-traffic.
Just north of the city, and the traffic, I stopped for fuel and went inside for Dr. Pepper while Kasey filled up. When I got back to the car he handed me a peach: fresh and warm from the fruit stand I had not noticed.
New York has shitty produce. That peach was like a time-traveling potion, as its juices ran down my wrists and the front of my shirt, to every happy summer moment I've ever had.
He had no idea what the peach was for me besides something to hold me over until dinner.
That first night in Dalton, GA, began with a wedding-party dinner where I became reacquainted with friends and their families and met new husbands and children.
Following was the division of sexes for our respective parties. The girls were all very demure and reserved and primarily wed so we didn't get drunk or go out dancing. It was very refreshing, though, I must say. After so much time away from old girlfriends.
That night Johnny Ruch called me from Germany. I haven�t heard from him in nearly two years and haven�t seen him in nearly three. Somehow he remembered my number, and the poor drunk boy felt a little closer to home. Hot Johnny will be back in December, ladies.
This is what he�s been up to.
The next morning we had a bridesmaid's luncheon at which I became a centerpiece for conversation because their southern lifestyles inclined them to be fascinated with anyone who had left home. When I realized everyone was almost done eating besides me, I got all the married ones to tell the story of how their men proposed. I prefer to observe paradoxes and not solely demonstrate them.
After that, I left the girls.
Women are intense. More intense than men.
So I took a walk and ended up relaxing with Joy�s younger brother, Joseph. I�ve known the whole family for nine years, so this 19-year-old is much like my own brother. Both of us were far from home for the first time the last ten months. Both of us felt like the sap had run down into our roots and we�d lost our foliage.
Throughout the weekend I found random conversations that helped me filter through my New York time and understand who I am now in light of my new experiences without the loss of my past.
Friday afternoon we had the rehearsal, and afterwards the dinner. Joy�s fianc� is from Mississippi, so his side of the wedding brought copious amounts of catfish for frying, coleslaw, hushpuppies, and glass-bottled Coca-Cola.
The pavilion was surrounded by Appalachian foothills, all the girls wore sundresses, the young men wore open-collared button-downs, and the sun set as we all laughed and cried during loving speeches.
Afterwards there were fireworks that rained cinders.
I got on my phone to call my mother to wish her a happy Fourth, and noticed I had missed a call.
�Hey, this is Mark, from HMV�. It�s about 7:30 on the Fourth of July�.�
I saved the message, called my mother, bought some beer, and stayed up talking with Kasey until five o�clock in the morning.
Astrophysics and his drawings and my writings and family histories and comfortable pauses seemed to make the time fly. Then he drove me to where I was staying.
We had no idea that every single other person in the wedding party was hanging out at another hotel. It was glaringly obvious to them all that there were only two missing persons, and that odds were we were together.
He didn�t kiss me; he just hugged me good night. I think he was actually respecting me.
The wedding was a long ordeal. A good twelve hours of being in a dress of compromising comfort. Smiling a lot.
The bride and me before the ceremony.
Johnny, the bride�s 18-year-old brother.
Joseph, my favorite.
And Joshua, the 22-year-old.
I tried not to cry, of course, but when Joy�s brother, Joseph, started weeping from where he stood � otherwise stalwart � the whole wedding party sort of lost their shit, too. We were also sweating because the air conditioner fucked up. It�s hot down south.
Sunday morning Joy�s father-in-law drove me, Kasey, and a couple others down to Atlanta. I got dropped at my mother�s house, and the others continued to the airport. I had Kasey carry my bag inside, though, so Mama could see him.
After he hugged me and left, mama calmly complimented his handshake, and then asked me if he was the �one�. I had an internal panic attack, as you might imagine, because my mother is never calm, and never asks about guys: instead she informs me.
I replied he is someone I have simply had a few excellent conversations with�
�He�s not what you were looking for but you�re glad you found him, right?�
�He�s not dispensable to me,� is all I could muster.
She's crazy. That's crazy. Pure insanity.
I'm moving in three weeks.
We have plans for ways of spending time together before I move. Plans for ways of spending time together after I move.
This is Kasey "I-don't-have-a-middle-name" Giaquinto.
I think he looks like Zeppo Marx.
Despite his Harpo-esque curls.
Hey, Nancy, he owns Duck Soup.
Mama made me the best Buffalo wings I�ve ever had, and we talked, smoked, laughed, visited with my brothers, and in the evening I made the flight home.
Life After God is completed now, and I feel the need to loan it to somebody. But everybody should read it.
My sister drove from Memphis to Idaho yesterday and I can�t wait to talk to her when she gets back. I�m sure we both will have stories to share.
Google searches that turn up my journal include:
"Michael K"
"i love watching my wives fuck my friends"
""I had a total hard on"
"Matthew, Jenny, Nada Surf"
"David Bowie" & "Heathen album Cover"
"Jenny Convertibles, Georgia"
"wind blowing up skirt"
