I need to see the sea

well, I guess I should finish up the story of the power weekend, eh?

Monday morning I woke before Dan and went out and visited with Katie on her futon for a few minutes. It was nice, and peaceful, and the way Mondays should be but rarely are. Soon enough she left for work, and woke Dan right before she did, and there were hugs all around. He and I sat and talked and interneted and eventually wandered down to the Einstein's next to the Queen for breakfast. Lox and bagel never tasted so good.

We got back to the basement miracle/nightmare and packed the rest of our crap. Dan took a long time in the shower. It happens sometimes. We missed our bus to go down town, and I ended up calling Rob Drabkin, who picked us up and took us to the airport. That was fun. It was like being in the back of Mandy Sanders' Omni all over again, except that I was far more attracted to the driver this time. We all three talked home recording and gigs and gear.... I realized once again how much better it is to hang out with dudes. I've got to find some out here.

So then it was planey planey... we made it up to the gate right as they announced initial boarding. good grief, Dan and I couldn't talk enough. All day, through security, on the plane, in the Minneapolis airport at the TGI Fridays and on the people movers. It was the best kind of intense there is. We made it to our planes as the last boarding call was announced, and I literally ran to the end of the concourse to mine, getting my ticket scanned right before they closed the doors. Talk about last minute. Then I jogged back to my seat, pushed my backpack in the overhead bin (yay for not checking bags!), collapsed in my seat, and burst into tears. The lines from that one song on Brian's sampler echoed in my mind ... "What a year, it has been, what a year, it has been- lost my love, shed my skin, what a year, it has been." Transpose weekend and it was accurate, surely. I called Dan briefly, trying to hold it together, under the pretense of wanting to make sure he got on his flight ok. I knew he did, of course he did. I watched him over my shoulder until the wall got in the way as I jogged off towards my Indianapolis flight. But still, I called him- and I knew why- I just needed to hear his voice again. Even for a moment. I could tell he was a little confused, but I didn't care. He said words, and I just mumbled a response, afraid to trust my voice at even the most simplest of phrases. We hung up pretty quickly, and I slumped my head on the cool glass of the window, thankful that Minnesota would keep me in her heart if I did the same.

A couple of hours later, my pops picked me up in the big Buick and we headed home. He talked to me about a lot of stuff, mostly financial planning, but I will admit I mostly only heard buzzing in my ears. I looked at the clock, knowing that I worked in less than 8 hours. I exhaled. I closed my eyes. I smiled.


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(for a slideshow of the wedding, click here. yours truly is in a couple of shots, including a not bad one of buddy and I singing the processional. the other is of myself and Rob [who took Dan and I to the airport] enjoying our hair.)