quiet, but steady

I went to a friend's wedding on the bay yesterday. It was the first wedding I've been to since I was about 12 or 13. As weddings go, I'm told, this one was pretty much as good as it gets. Their ceremony was short and combined buddhist, wiccan, and friends' sentiments. The reception was a 10-hour party on the bay, with a hookah lounge and free joints. We sipped home-made iced tea and, besides sweltering, enjoyed the company of meeting up with New College friends from years ago. Nevertheless, I found myself not at all admiring of the "wedding" itself -- I mean, they seemed to be enjoying it, but there was no time when I thought "I hope this happens to me."

The language, however varied from traditional sermons on union, nevertheless was so hetero/monogomous and I tend to have problems with solemn oaths that involve words like "love, soul, one, man, woman." I'm not sure how long people can be together, or I can be around them, until a declaration of lifelong love makes any sense to me. It's just -- well, kind of imaginary. The notion of husband and wife, sharing their lives forever -- of course they don't know what that means, it's why they're getting married, so they can start finding out. And this is not impressive to me. Also, I hate wedding photographers. Hate them. We'd be enjoying hanging out, or the couple were getting ready to cut the cake, and suddenly there was a five-minute pause during which we had to look completely contrived in order to document a moment which had become wholly fabricated. Bring on the polaroids, please! OK, ok . . . enough of my selfish rants. The kids were happy, really in love, and have fun together. That's awesome.

I got a job. Get ready, it's hot: Medieval Manuscript Researcher. Yesterday I got to look at and touch an illuminated manuscript on herbs from 800 a.d. I love it.

That's my news. I'm doing homework and trying to be a good housekeeper. And I was looking at pictures of my friends in New York and smiled so much. I'm visiting in November, I think.