We got chocolate-poopin' Swiss animals for doing our jobs in a prompt and relatively sassless manner; if it wasn't so hard for me to accomplish this I'd do it more often.
Menagerie
Kim and JV's wedding
As so many slightly-disapproving-because-marriages-should-take-place-in-churches-dammit relatives and guests were too happy to tell us, having a wedding outside is always risky. We reconvened via cell phone every hour or so in the morning until we couldn't wait any longer to alert the various venues and start stringing up the wreaths, at which point JV called the local meteorologist, who promised vaguely clear skies for at least half an hour after the ceremony started, which was good enough for us.
It was seriously 90 in the shade at 3:30pm, and we were most definitely not in the shade. Luckily, most of us weren't wearing multiple layers of polyester.
Afterward, we rode sprawled in front of air conditioning vents to the air conditioned reception. As I told Steve, being hot and sweaty isn't that bad unless you're trying to look good, in which case it's awful.
I know, other people's wedding pictures aren't are exciting as yours, or at least ones you've been to. But how many it-all-started-with-a-fateful-Facebook-poke weddings have YOU attended? That's what I thought.
This is the second purposefully partially pirate-themed wedding I've been to (Shannon and Rob didn't really mean to have a pirate theme, but those little silver rings are so perfect for attaching to ears. And noses. And lips.)
And finally, it wouldn't be an Iowa City wedding without crunk juice in a gas can (sadly, Lil Jon's beverage can't be found everywhere and so generally ten Red Bulls to one bottle of Jagermeister suffices).
This is totally one of those pictures that gets passed around the internet in a "redneck wedding" theme, isn't it? Sorry guys.
Morning dips
We were apparently the only ones who took the "let's all meet at the reception hall at 7am to set up" comment seriously, so we wasted a little time at the Coralville Reservoir.
Back in the IC
Hanging out at our old house in Iowa City.
Karma upswing
Boarded in an window exit row seat with my carry-on still in my possession and cookies and an Elle to tide me over until I can fire up the first season of Chuck. Also, slightly mulleted businessman in a peach polo next to me - you can bet HE won't be starting up any conversations over South Dakota.
These are the people in your neighborhood
The crack shoes showed up a week ago, their nylon sheen glinting as they carelessly twirled. The nice officer told me that their being an indicator of drug activity is an urban legend, but I'd like to see him laugh it off if they appeared on HIS corner.
Then on Sunday I woke to find the back gate bell slashed from the latch.
Aaand I'm back to taking a kitchen knife when I go down to the basement to do laundry. At least Rye taught me how to hold it blade forward/upward (i.e., the opposite of how they do it in horror movies).
The first LTW
At the tender age of seven, my father decided that Lynwood wasn't a cool enough name and rechristened himself Oscar. He holds the 10k road race record for 52-year-olds in Tennessee. He makes the best spaghetti sauce in the world (the trick is honey). When his mother had to be moved to a nursing home, he visited her every night for six years until the day she died, and I am not even kidding. He taught me how to suck-siphon gas out of the truck's tank to fill the lawn mower, how to touch type and program in BASIC, and that you have to roll with the punches in a bureaucracy. In short, I'm lucky that my one-week-old cousin Laura Kelly was in a good mood the day he went to visit her, or otherwise he wouldn't have thought, "Hm, that's a pretty cute baby. Maybe I want one of those."
Signs I am not yet a grownup, parts 3a and 3b:
Our new neighbors across the deck have a handsome black and white tuxedo cat who likes to sit in the front window. He notices me this morning through the side window and stares in curiosity. I immediately locate my 15-pound, feral-looking raccoon of a cat, hoist him up onto the counter, and force him to look in the direction of tuxedo cat, who freaks out and begins to porcupuff. Grendel finally notices The Other and his spine telescopes as he evaluates how best to defend his territory, despite the fact that tuxedo cat's window is eight feet above the deck. Undeterred, he bounds off the counter and shoots out the kitty door.
Also, new neighbors totally have our couch. I had no intentions of meeting them until I noticed this and am now plotting how best to confirm, although I'm pretty sure I'll have to wait until my less socially maladjusted half returns.
Another warm day, another BARTFAIL
I'd call it shameful but I'm pretty sure BART doesn't have any. On the plus side, I think summer intern season finally kicked in - yum.
111 Sutter
I almost never use the front entrance for work - walking through the palatial Wells Fargo is faster in the morning and the siren sound of lunch is so much stronger from SOMA these days - which is a pity, as it's lovely.
Luckily I have my little pig friend to help me make the internet either way.
I've always been very lucky at Sugar to have a window with a view (except for that one time on Market Street, but reparations were made and I can't actually say anything more without breaking the nondisclosure agreement); from my current spot I can see a grand total of seven American flags and the occasional staged helicopter rescue.