white wedding

Back from Baltimore, where I celebrated the wedding of my cousin Billy and his new wife, Megan. The whole weekend was a ridiculously good time. We left at 9am on Saturday from Brooklyn and got to Baltimore around noon. We then headed to Mick O'Shea's, which is Billy's favorite Irish pub/restaurant and was directly across the street from our hotel. We ate there, then went to the rehearsal, then ate again at the dinner, then went back to Mick O'Shea's to drink.

Most of the weekend was eating and drinking, but there were some other highlights. On Saturday, a few members of my family (after having an awkward breakfast at McDonald's... see? More eating) went to the Inner Harbor, which is sort of like South Street Seaport with more pigeons... or, at least more pigeons gathered in tight clumps. I don't know what the obsession is with being on vacation and feeding birds. Do they not have birds where you are from? I could see if they were strange and exotic birds, if they were beautiful or did some tricks or something, but these are the same dirty, diease-ridden, flying rats that you probably see everyday. Unless you are from a place that doesn't have pigeons, in which case a) where do you live and do they have apartments to rent? and b) ...no, fuck it, pigeons are gross either way. Stop feeding them and stop letting your children touch them. They can sustain themselves.

Anyway... the wedding was at the Loyola College chapel, where my cousin Billy and his brother went to schoool. The campus was beautiful and every time I visit an actual college campus, it sort of makes me sad, because all I ever got to see was the Great Lawn. I never went out on the Quad to play frisbee or Hackeysack (Did that hit Crazy Stairs?!). But then I really think about my college years and all the good friends I made and how annoying it was to walk to class in the rain and how much worse it would have been had I actually had to walk a significant distance. Plus, I've never played Hackeysack in my life and, quite frankly, am pretty sure I don't even know how to spell it, so it was probably all for the best.

The reception was in the Baltimore Museum of Industry. Very strange but interesting and perfect for the wedding of two chemists. (Ah... nerd love.) The dance floor was underneath a hanging plane, which I still insist was a model but some members of my family thought was real and my brother assumed his point had been proven when we saw an exhibit nearby with pictures of the plane... but I still say it proves nothing. This doesn't really matter because, model or not, if that thing had fallen, it would have been a pretty sad wedding. I also decided I would like to have my wedding underneath the blue whale in the Musem of Natural History, which I think we can all agree is definitely a model. Don't ask why I would like to celebrate my marriage surrounded by glass cases of taxidermied mammals... I just would. So step one: find a ridiculously rich man who would like to marry me and pay for that wedding. Additional steps to follow.

All in all, it was a great weekend. I even got to sing with the all-black band in Mick O'Shea's on Saturday night. My father has to go up to literally everyone who steps behind a mic and tell them that his daughter also sings in a band. Thankfully, they did not know "Sweet Child of Mine" which is the song that everyone always wants to hear me sing but- sorry, Axl- it is starting to become the bane of my existence. Much like "Summer of '69" is the bane of Perry's.

america the beautiful

I've pretty much steered clear of posting anything on this blog or on Facebook detailing my political views. Mostly because I am in the dead center of the opposition... which I just typed as "poopsition" and that's too funny not to share. My family (most of them, anyway) are all Republicans, from my grandfather to my youngest brother. Or, if they're not all Republicans, they at least all voted for McCain. The only exceptions are my cousin, Katie, who is a hardcore Obama fanatic, and my cousin-in-law, Andrea, who lived in Illinois most of her life and also supports Obama. She's pretty vocal about it as well, which is something I would be hesitant to do when I was just about a year into the family. But that's not my call, I guess.

I voted for Obama. I figure there's no sense in hiding it anymore since he won and I might as well support the President we're going to have, especially since I helped put him there. I like Obama. I'm not going to lie and say some of it didn't have to do with how charming he appears on television. But I did watch at least one of the debates and I agreed mostly with what Obama had to say, so that's the way I went. I didn't hate McCain. I wouldn't have flipped over any cars if he'd won. But it does feel pretty inspiring to have been involved in the election of the first African American man to the presidency. Although, an incident in Lord & Taylor bothered me yesterday and is probably the only reason I wouldn't have wanted Obama to win.

I was in there with a guy I work with, who is half Puerto Rican, and the woman who was helping us was also Puerto Rican. So she asked him, "Did you vote for Obama?", he said, "Yes," and she slapped him five and said something to the effect of how all Puerto Ricans should have voted for Obama. Besides the fact that he is not Puerto Rican, I just hate that people voted for him simply because he's a minority. I understand, like I said above, wanting to be part of something historic and a great leap forward for the African American community. But, at least pretend that you listened to something he said or knew a little about his proposed policies. Don't vote for him just to get a black guy in the White House.

Okay, I'm done. No more poltical talk until next year when I will discuss whether or not Mike Bloomberg is trying to become the King of New York, a title that can only be rightly bestowed upon Bill Pullman and the cast of Newsies.