After sleeping on a pull-out couch for two nights, my lumpy old wonderful bed never felt so good.

This weekend was the wedding of my cousin Katie in Chicago. I flew out Friday night with my parents, we rented a car, and drove twenty minutes from O'Hare to the Sheraton Suites that would be our home for the next couple of days. Some of my relatives were waiting in the lobby, so after dropping off luggage in the room upstairs, we hung out for a while and caught up. This was my dad's side of the family, and I'm the oldest of the cousins, so it was a little weird seeing some of my younger female cousins bring their boyfriends and drink alcohol and talk about college. I still remember when my cousin Kim was only a year old and cracked her chin on our coffee table; it was strange to see her all grown up. Though we've all gotten together at family reunions over the years, the last one that most all of us went to was four years ago in Cape Cod, so it has been a while. Made me feel old and crochety, it did.

Saturday morning, I slept the hell in. I was in a suite with my parents, so they had a nice big bed in one room, with French doors that closed them off from the living room, which was where I slept. As any of you who have slept on sofa-beds may know, they're not the most comfortable things, but I did manage to get some sleep. My parents left that morning to find a drug store for my mother (she'd had terrible sinus pain when the plane descended into Chicago), and I discovered later that they found an urgent care clinic where the doctor there diagnosed a sinus infection. So while waiting for them to get back, I read some in Album Zutique, watched part of a Duck Dodgers cartoon on Cartoon Network before the television decided it didn't like what I was watching and shut itself off (my dad said it was probably a short, but I like to think of the tv having an opinion on my viewing choices; it did stay on later that night while I watched Weekend Update on SNL), then shaved and got cleaned up. A bunch of us went to a Subway down the road for lunch, then we returned to the hotel and got all duded up for the wedding at 3:00.

One thing I appreciated greatly was the brevity of the service. It was only twenty minutes long, which I think is just about the perfect length for a wedding; more than that and I get fidgety. It's how long I want my own wedding to be. After the ceremony, they took pictures, and I was asked to be in a couple with the rest of my extended family. Then, back to the hotel and a wait of an hour and a half before the reception. I hung out in my cousin Jeremy's room and had a beer and watched some football and talked. All the cousins who came eventually made it in there, and it was nice. The reception was down in the ballroom, and after the appetizer/cocktail/staging area thing, we went inside to our assigned table. I was at table two with all my cousins, who as the night progressed got steadily more and more intoxicated, every so often bursting into exultations of "Table Two! Table Two!" Some of us got a 2 drawn on our hands; one even drew on a napkin and wore it as a bib the rest of the night. People would come up and tell us we were the loudest table there, then ask to take our picture while we flashed them the peace sign (or V, or Two). It was very fun.

My toe was still bothering me from its violent intersection with my door frame a couple of days before, so I wasn't able to get on the dance floor; when I tried the chicken dance, it only made matters worse. The nice, fancy, stiff, expensive dress shoes I was wearing didn't help matters. So I limped upstairs around 11:00, and my parents came up not long after. A little SNL (with the lovely Halle Berry), then bed.

Sunday was a brunch over at Katie's apartment, so that she could visit with the family a little more before leaving with her new husband for Cancun the next day. We ate and watched the new couple open their presents (I am so registering) and talked for a while. Around 1:30, we said our goodbyes and headed to the airport. Returned the rental car, then wandered around O'Hare, looking in bookstores and stopping at Dunkin Donuts, until our flight. We talked some more about my upcoming wedding (about which I was asked too many times to count this past weekend) and cursed the federal government some more. It's such a pain in the ass that we're having to wait so long for a visa to be approved when driver's licenses are being passed out like religious pamphlets in California, and illegal immigrants can be charged with felonies in this state but not kicked out of the country. I missed Janet a lot this weekend (especially during the slow dances), and I want her here now, dammit.

Anyway, we boarded the plane, flew home, and upon the descent into Raleigh, my sinuses kicked in this time. It felt like someone was stabbing me in the face, or driving an icepick into the area just above my right eyebrow with a hammer. Sweet merciful crap, I was in pain. So I kept chomping on my gum and popping my ears, and it didn't last long. Though today, I definitely have a cold. Stupid recycled plane air. My toe appears to be better, and I'm not limping quite as much, though if it's not completely better in a few more days, I'm going to the doctor to make sure it's not broken. Stupid door frame.

So that was my busy weekend. I had fun and it was really nice to see almost everyone again. But I'm so exhausted that I need a day off just to recover. Unfortunately, I have two stories to critique and a position paper to write tonight, so I won't be going to bed early. Oh well. There's always tomorrow night.

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Album Zutique #1 edited by Jeff VanderMeer

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