The Wedding Daze Part 5: The Reception, The Vacuum Cleaner Mystery, and Time Travel Theories.

I can't say I remember my wedding reception all too well. I have oft times observed that the reception exists for everyone but the bride and groom, who really just want to get it over with so they can, um, sleep. Right? But it is very important to have this giant party where everyone can come and shake your hand, and ask you how it feels to be married, and you can smile and exchange awkward small talk with all your distant relatives and friends. It really is a good time. But for me it was all just a big blur. I never got a very good chance to take it all in, and I don't even remember who all I talked to.

I do remember that I danced with my wife, which was very nice. I confess, I never dance normally, so I thought that might be awkward. But I think I did ok. I wasn't really caring what everyone else thought at the time. I was just having a good dance with Rachel. I liked it. Then I had a dance with my Mom, which was also good. And then I went back into the blur of hand-shaking until I had to come back and do a money dance. It started out awkwardly, and I was worried that no one was going to dance with me, but Rachel's sweet Grandmother from South Carolina came to my rescue. Then I remember dancing with Denice, and Alyssa, and Teri, and Michael, and I'm forgetting some people, I know it, and then I filled in the awkward spaces by dancing with a lot of little girls. They loved it the most.

All in all, I got maybe $25 in the money dance. Rachel got somewhere close to $300. It's because she's a lot hotter, and a much better dancer than I am.

When that was all done there was a lot of crazy dancing, of which I took very little part. I didn't want to ruin the cool vibe with my horrible dance moves, and I was having a good time talking to everyone, even though the attempt to talk to everyone was giving me a lot of anxiety. I'm not used to being anywhere near the center of attention.

Eventually it got to that point where we were just soooo tired. So then we went upstairs to our suite and, um, slept.

The next day we sorted through all the cards, and gifts, and stuff and managed to match every gift up to a card, or at least a name, except for the vacuum cleaner. According to eye-witness accounts, the vacuum was left by a man who walked in and left it at the beginning of the reception. Logic has failed to help us deduce who this gift came from in order to send them a thank you card for it. It was a very nice gift. I use it often. Reggie is terrified of it. The only description we have of the vacuum gifter is that he was 'a man'. And that he did not seem to be familiar as anyone's family. It all seems so mysterious that it has stuck in my mind ever since. But no answers have been forthcoming.

We received many, many more gifts, and cards. It was all very generous. I feel almost guilty about how much we received. It was crazy. There are some I haven't even been able to open and use yet. There just isn't enough time to put all that goodness to good use. But I will.

Just last week I was reflecting back on the reception, and saying to someone that if I ever get the chance to time travel I will go back to my reception as a guest, so that I can enjoy myself. I'll probably get really wasted on the excellent, champagne that was served, of which I only tasted a little myself. After all, I didn't want to get myself into a state where I couldn't enjoy a good sleep later. So my time travelling self will probably put on a cheesy mustache and party like I'm a guest at my own wedding reception. It would be awesome.

Robert and I are often pondering the mysteries of time travel. We often have way too much time on our hands at UPS. So I was discussing this with him, and we came to the conclusion that now that I have thought of that idea, we could prove that I will one day time travel, if we could find that I was at the wedding reception. Of course it would be highly unethical of my future self to do anything so brazen as to appear in any of the photographs. Therefore I would have to be discreet. Of course, my cheesy mustache disguise would be the perfect way to blend in at my wedding, as you surely can imagine if you were there. And being such an ordinary looking guy, and so easily made invisible when I want to be, it would be no problem to blend in. Especially since if anyone saw an old guy who looked like me they would just think I was a distant uncle and take no notice whatsoever.

But, knowing myself as I do, I know I wouldn't be able to resist the urge to leave some clue behind to taunt myself for years to come. But it would require great subtlety. I couldn't risk altering the future by letting myself know that I would one day travel back in time. So what would I do? A card would be way too obvious. My bad hand-writing is way too distinctive. I would probably leave some random, but not too obvious gift from my registry that would stick out in my overly-imaginative mind and...

Kazart! That's it. I understand now. The vacuum cleaner makes perfect sense. It's just the sort of thing I would leave for myself because I always needed one, but never had one before, and it was only a matter of time before my brain came to this twisted logic and realized that it was a gift from the future, but could never be proved as such, and it would drive me insane. Aha! It makes perfect sense. If you don't believe me, just go with it. It's the best explanation I have. But if I'm wrong, then to the vacuum gifter, I most sincerely thank you for it.


Cheesy mustaches.

I will upload more pics of the reception later.

Who Wants To Jump Off A Cliff With Me? And Other Chill, Wintry Dreams of Summers Past.

The day ticks slowly past as my tentative grip on reality continues to erode. I'm standing at the bottom of a narrow crack in the earth, somewhere near Moab, with Aron Ralston trying to figure out how to properly cut off an arm with a dull pocket knife. It's tricky business, and there is little room for error. The terror trickles down my spine. What's next? What's the score? Let's do this!

But then I am jolted back through time and space by my melancholy kitties jumping up on my chest for some attention, and I realize I'm back on my couch in South Salt Lake. I feel depleted by my journey to the desert. I better drink some kool-aid, and post a blog about it, before going back. Kool-aid really hits the spot, and does wonders for my mental and emotional endurance.

My ability to move spontaneously back and forth between South Salt Lake and Canyonlands National Park is made possible by my new Kindle. My wife loves me so much that she gave me one for Christmas. It provides me with some much needed escape from these January doldrums. I need some adventure. I need a sunburn on my ass. I need to see something that I haven't seen before. I'm a needy, little needer is what I am, and I wish this Wednesday could be more like a Friday already.

The most harrowing adventure I have had in recent weeks was when I was briefly driving for UPS and I found myself in a sticky dilemma where I had to deliver a series of random next day air package in 7 minutes: 1 mis-labeled package to the sixth floor of 6350 South and 3000 East, 2 heavy boxes to the third floor of 6360 South and 3000 East, and 3 envelopes and 18 large boxes to The Store at 2050 East 6200 South a couple of miles away. Impossible you say? Perhaps for an ordinary, sane person. But I have surely done weirder things. With the right kind of motivation, and a little creative problem solving, a person can be made to perform wild and desperate acts. I like to move fast. The wheels of commerce must not be made to stop. But that's another story. Let's just say I got it done, without even breaking any rules. I find my adventure where I can in these dark times.

2010 was a bad year for my adrenaline addiction. All in all it was a great year for most things, but I can't even recall a single time that I could say I nearly died during that time frame. I do love being alive, but it's good for a man's soul to stand on the edge of a tall cliff and stare into that precipice every now and then. It's difficult at times to comprehend the difference between life and death unless you can walk up to the fence in the middle and peer over at the other side. I have done this a few times in my younger, wilder days. Once or twice I even stood atop the fence and jeered at the hounds of hell whilst peeing in the wind. Can you grasp that? Never mind. That too is another story.

Where was I?

I got a Kindle for Christmas and it is probably my favorite of many gifts that I got this year. My Christmas was very full. I got more things than I even know what to do with. I got an Ipod too, which I am currently using to listen to some Wu Tang Clan. "Wu Tang Clan aint nothin' to f*** With!" So I'm locked and loaded. I got my reading material to feed me deranged inspiration, and I'm pumping some mad jams to crank me up into a crazed, and dirty blood-lust. I'm almost ready.

I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions. They are almost always about superficial ways of being more attractive to the opposite sex. I have no time for dieting, or going to the gym. And I wouldn't go to the gym even if I had the time to waste. Life is too short for that, I can promise you. Nevertheless, I can't overcome the New Year's appeal of new beginnings and second chances. So if I confess to a New Year's resolution it is to have more fun. I intend to spend some quality time thinking a little less, and living a little more, Hanging with the right people, and making no excuses. And I'll try and drag the right people along with me, probably kicking and screaming. I will get some photos out of my head. I will see and do weird things that make no sense at all, and this time I will ask all the right questions.

It's 2011, but let's party like it's 2012 if you know what I mean. Let's cut this damn arm off already.