Aaron’s graduating from CAS today and I’m going to get one more La Esquina meal and
Arrested Development Gilmore Girls episode in right now then read my grandmother’s dog-chewed Short Stories of Dostoevsky that she gave me when we swung by after the wedding in western North Carolina yesterday. I got my friend to take my babysitting job today, which is good, but I’m sad that there was a conflict today because I do like seeing that little girl every week. She is the sweetest, and I hope my friend has as much fun with her as I do.
Feel like every person who’s liked me starts off thinking I’m insane.
Heh. I just had a conversation about cats’ love of tipping things over when we were at the party tonight, because there is so much pottery everywhere and apparently that is a concern.
Crookshanks loves to tip over glasses of water while I sleep, so I wake up and wonder why the floor’s wet. He does this, of course, after drinking a little bit.
We’re in North Carolina for Aaron’s friend’s wedding, and this was when it was raining. Aaron thinks the fog looks so sedentary because the ground is hot. It might be because of the humidity.
It’s Aaron’s first wedding, and also the first wedding of his friend group. His friend - also named Aaron - met his fiancee through OKCupid, and now lives with her family, who have been making pottery for 200 years. Everyone lives down the road from each other - the two of them just bought a 25-acre property half a mile away - and there are highway signs for “Pottery Area.” Their house is beautiful - a legitimate log cabin, with logs held together by cement - and the kind of den I dream about. They also had five cats, but I couldn’t see them for long. Sometimes I think heaven will be a house with natural light that isn’t too strong or too pervasive, and a reading lamp, and a chair, and everything brown.
We’re stopping by my grandmother’s on Monday. She lives in the eastern part of the state and I thought we wouldn’t be able to see her, because she’s two hours out of the way, so I wasn’t even going to tell her that we’d be in the same state. But we decided it would be OK to go on Monday and I’m excited for her to meet Aaron. It was really cute - he called her accidentally when he was meaning to call her friend, and buttdials are usually fast enough to say “Oh, hey. Wrong number. Bye” but of course Aaron had to explain that he was Aaron and he’d called the wrong number and listen to my Granny tell him how excited she was. She told my mom she’s preparing a quiche for us. I’ll never be as good a party-planner as she; whenever we come over, it’s always a reason to invite her friends and have a dinner, and she takes the whole day to prepare the meal and teach me things that I usually wish I’m not learning and instead buying from the grocery store. But looking back, I’m grateful for it.
Last time it was to get a $600 voucher from Delta to take a flight the next day, and sleep in a seedy hotel near LaGuardia, and this time it’s waiting for Aaron to get back from (heroically) driving 3 more hours after 12 hours of driving to pick up his friends who had hitchhiked half the way.
I sent in my last essay in that hotel room and just finished my final one for this semester - 15 pages, and didn’t start until 4 pm - today. But it was on Chinese-American children’s lit. I think it’s OK, but I’m just so happy to be done. But too tired to be too happy. Excited to explore NC this weekend, go to the wedding on Sunday, take a detour on Monday to surprise my grandmother in eastern North Carolina. The light in here is weird and white and I can’t wait to turn it off. Gonna try to wait up for Aaron but know I’ll fall asleep. We had dinner at Cracker Barrel - his first time - and he surprised me on the way out by buying me a Cheerwine, which made me happy because I’ve loved it ever since I went to camp in the mountains here and then again at Duke TIP.
I love these photos, of Kennedy with his kids. I used to be really into the Kennedys - ordered a History Channel documentary about them when I was in eighth grade, read books with titles like Crossfire: The Plot That Killed Kennedy, knew the names of the siblings in order - which came partly from connections to them through Palm Beach, Choate. The obsession has thankfully grown cold (partly because I realized that everyone is fallible/Kennedy, like too many presidents, had extramarital affairs), but I’m still moved by photos like this.