Dead asleep.
My friend Holli had left a voicemail offering me an early morning job.
By the time I heard the message, the opportunity had vanished.
It seems this new 6am jogging lifestyle is doing wonders for my mood swings and my finance management.
I delivered some law suit materials to a McDonald's on 95th Street.
Inspirational music filled the conditioned air.
Unfortunately I was not inspired.
Mostly stewing in self-hate continued again today.
The charred nugget that has been my brain lately has melted into bunsen burner sludge.
A half sunburnt mope leaking broiled drool in a hot yoga minivan.
Poor Lauren had to endure my silent, stubborn, self-absorbed sulkery.
All the way to the wedding.
She might as well have ridden the El with a statue of an unpopular shitty baby.
Oh yeah.
We were going to a wedding.
There were going to be other people at the wedding.
This would require interaction and civility.
I was going to have to become a human being again.
Oh no.
Our friends Hans and Josine were married this evening.
It was a loose, non-traditional ceremony.
Humor played a major role, but the integrity of the wedding was never compromised.
Love was expressed, and I found it very inspirational.
Congratulations, Hans and Josine.
The reception afterward was also a loose affair.
Josine is Dutch, and her brother's toast was a work of art.
He unfolded a large sheet of paper, larger than a road map, and spoke in random stabbings about life I think.
In his second sentence he referred to the bride as a "bitch".
This was met with great laughter.
He inverted his speech map a few more times like a Victor Borge gag, and rambled on pie-eyed for five minutes, a slammed poet.
The tables were filled with open mouths and stifled guffaws.
When he said he thought he ought to make a point of this, the room went wild.
He threw in a "fucking" and a "goddamn" and went out on baffled, mind-blown applause.
I will probably never a see a wedding toast like that one ever again.
Lauren and I caught up with improv folks, drank Grolsch and champagne, I had an awkward exchange with my ex-agent, and we danced.
Lauren and I that is.
I came home fathering a smile and some much needed fucking hope.
Thank you, Hans and Josine, and Lauren.
Verdict: Win
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