I promise there’s an engagement story.


I promise to write it.


But for now, you’ll have to settle for engagement photos.
Sorry to disappoint you. ;)


My good friend Heather took these.
Do you have any favorites?
Let me know in the comments.


I went to a wedding in April. One of the coolest couples I know.  It was in this building, one of the coolest I know.

dr. friend:  so i don’t think i’m particularly cool with this whole not being able to chat with you

me:  yeah, no kidding
i’m a jerk
 dr. friend:  you should really work on that
 me:  hell no
it’s your problem
 dr. friend:  lol
 me;)
 dr. friend:  i mean, no texting or anything
 me:  i know, right?
 dr. friend:  sheesh
[top secret stuff]
 dr. friend:  ahhhh
so when do you return?
 me:  [shh]
 dr. friend:  okay.
 me:  don’t worry, it’s before your birthday
 dr. friend:  brb…i gotta tell the dept of homeland sec “something”
;-)lol
 me:  haha
i’m going to bring a longform birth certificate from senegal
it was never kenya
 dr. friend:  hahaha
  me:  i bought some dramamine and pepto
 dr. friend:  imodium?
 me:  no
 dr. friend:  buy some
 me:  yeah?
 dr. friend:  if you get the traveler’s diarrhea, imodium plus the azithromycin
 me:  i like doctor friends
 dr. friend:  seriously.
lol
and you know not to brush your teeth with the water too, right?
 me:  yeah. keeping the mineral water by the sink
using that for washing hands before contact lens insertion, too
 dr. friend:  good
and i don’t know that i’d do much wading in streams barefoot
 me:  you can look at all my parasites when i come back
 dr. friend:  hahahahah
[a friend] showed me a pic of a dude’s parasites once.  dude had brought them to the office
 me:  what
 dr. friend:  yeah
people bring weird crap in
like their bedbugs in a jar
 me:  why?
 dr. friend:  so i can see them
mucus too.  it’s an awesome job
 me:  you love it!
 dr. friend:  lol
most of the time
 dr. friend:  hey, good news
the worm i was concerned about, the guinea worm has been eradicated from senegal
 me:  did they put it back in guinea?
 dr. friend:  lol
 me:  i’m glad i don’t have to worry about that
 dr. friend:  yeah
me too
it’s pretty gross
 me:  would you be okay signing for a crate with a monkey in it?
it would be for your birthday
 dr. friend:  oh sure
 me:  what color?
 dr. friend:  it would need to be trained as a butler first
we’ve always wanted a monkey butler, you know
any color, as long as it’s trained.  i’m no racist.
 me:  do you like cufflinks for the monkey tux?
 dr. friend:  it would be nice, not necessary though
i’d be happy to dress the monkey
 me:  okay, that works
 dr. friend:  so do you have to wear a head scarf or anything?
 me:  no, but i do think we have to dress special for when we visit a mosque
 dr. friend:  probably long skirt/covered arms/head
 me:  yes
i should pack those :)
 dr. friend:  lol
 me:  do you like mangoes?
 dr. friend:  omg yeah
you should send me a bunch
 me:  i’m afraid the monkey will be easier
 dr. friend:  lol
you could um, smuggle them in your clothing?  ;-)
 me:  i could risk growing a cup size or four
 dr. friend:  hee
 me:  [la la la]
 dr. friend:  [confirm la la la]
[husband] says you’re going to get lots of marriage proposals
 me:  SWEET
 dr. friend:  in senegal.  they seem to enjoy foreign women
 me:  yeah, i KNOW not here
 dr. friend:  lol, not what i meant
 me:  (i know :) )
 dr. friend:  lol
of course, with the whole muslim thing, you might be looking at quite a different life for yourself
 me:  maybe i can find one who practices animalism
 dr. friend:  there ya go
 me:  or one of the 4% of the catholic population
 dr. friend:  see, now you’re thinking
 me:  haha
 dr. friend:  so you leave [cuckoo!]
 me:  true
 me:  did you turn down your invitation [to the royal wedding]?
 dr. friend:  yeah…decided on iceland instead
 me:  priorities
 dr. friend:  yup
 me:  do you play portal?
 dr. friend:  no
 me:  okay, just wondering
 dr. friend:  what is it?
oh crap, have i gotten old?
 me:  it’s a video/computer game
 dr. friend:  oh
 dr. friend:  so old
 me:  i hear ya
 dr. friend:  woops
 me:  ha. huh?
 dr. friend:  i accidentally got off this page
 me:  ah. okay
i’m so flattered that you’re going to miss me
 dr. friend:  totally
 me:  will you say hi to björk when you go to iceland?
 dr. friend:  lol of course
i’ll send you one of her outfits
 me:  i would LOVE that
i’d wear it every day until the eggs hatch
 dr. friend:  unless you’d prefer that fermented shark’s head thing
lol
 me:  haha. eww
are you going to try to buy iceland?
 dr. friend:  not right now.  we need a fence.
 me:  HAHAHA
priorities
 dr. friend:  yup
i heard a rumor that you designed kate’s dress
 me:  if it’s a cross between modest and yip-yip monster, then yes
 dr. friend:  that’s wild.  so you’re going to senegal to avoid the press, right
 me:  yes. and to find a royal husband of my own
 dr. friend:  okay, i’m lame so i’m off to bed
 me:  good night lamey
 dr. friend:  have a good night!  [dum dee dum dee dum]
me: thanks so much
 dr. friend:  get some imodium
 me:  yes’m
 dr. friend:  gnight!

“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

Can you imagine?

I was scanning the Ad  Board on campus this morning while waiting on the bus to work. When I saw this photo, I thought of Hemingway, but I also thought of the bloke who doesn’t get to wear the ring. Similarly, my heart broke.
My heart has been hurting a lot this week.

and I’m not all that sure it even happened.

Of course it did; there’s too much proof.

It just happened quickly, and I need more time.

I sought out a few of you to vent or catch up or what not.

Thanks for being around.

If you weren’t around, it happens.

Can’t argue with that.

Just like this past weekend.

Catch you next time.

A cute little puppy walked along a grassy path. The puppy’s name was Yip. Her floppy ears flopped and her thin, high tail bounced as she ambled through the tall grass. What Yip didn’t realize was that she wasn’t on a path, but in a meadow, fluffy with flowers and butterflies.

Indeed, it was a butterfly that led Yip off a path where many others before her had worn the grass short and even left a few bald patches. She followed that dancing pair of wings, and the unsuspecting insect drew her closer to a dark, damp forest.

She didn’t really notice the grass brushing her coat as her jaunt carved a little puppy trail through the meadow. A gentle breeze swept along, and the green, filamentous stalks bowed briefly before springing upright, reaching again for the sun which had only woken a few hours ago.

The butterfly caught a mellow draft and found a spot in space that Yip was lucky enough to see. The shiny, delicate powder on its wings reflected the sun’s rays and spread the light like magic. Yip saw colors and joy. She dared not blink, fearing the butterfly might disappear, but her tail whipped back and forth, a happy metronome.

Yip and the butterfly came closer to the forest. The butterfly crossed the meadow’s boundary into the weald, and the cute little puppy eagerly followed. Her paws immediately felt damp earth. Her eyes did not adjust quickly enough to the abrupt darkness, and she thought she went blind. Her tail lowered, and she sighed a low whimper.

But the butterfly seemed to beckon the cute little puppy, for she caught sight of it again when her pupils widened, allowing her to see the shadows and silhouettes of trees. Yip knew trees. Those magical wings led her through a gauntlet of bubbling mud and swarms of mosquitoes close enough to tickle Yip’s ears.

Even though Yip was a cute little puppy, she knew she should feel scared, and she was. But she also somehow knew the butterfly would not hurt her.

Sometimes the butterfly flew too fast. Its wings still held their shine, so Yip would see a flash and then it would go dark before appearing from behind a tree. Her confidence began to grow and her cautious steps turned  into a determined chase through the forest.

Yip felt, but did not see the other animals in the forest watching her: Owls and foxes and squirrels; snakes and hawks and things with pointy teeth. Their eyes glowed green or red, and Yip felt, but did not see this. Even as a cute little puppy, Yip knew where she didn’t belong.

The butterfly floated along, and Yip followed, and they eventually passed through the forest into a cute, little village. The butterfly picked up a swift return wind, leaving the cute little puppy alone.

She wandered along the village’s quiet streets and realized the whole place looked familiar to her, from the houses to the stores to the other puppies and their dog parents.

She had been here before, and this scared her.

But she knew she couldn’t be there long.

Yip began introducing herself to everybody. She said her name is Yip. Her name is Yip, she said.

And everybody smiled at her. Or they hugged her. Or they smiled and hugged her.

She was confused, but something told her she shouldn’t be, because if she had been there before, then these people already knew her. And if everybody looked so familiar, she wondered why she didn’t feel closer to them.

What had she forgotten?

Across the cute little town, the bell tower pealed and everyone filed toward the church. Yip lagged behind but was close enough to watch the double doors open and vacuum up all the villagers. She heard piano music and could no longer control her curiosity. She ran and stepped into the chapel just before the doors closed.

Yip slipped into a rear bench. She saw the most beautiful woman standing in front of the altar. Her eyes smiled and brimmed with tears at the same time while she faced a very handsome man. They held each other’s hands.

The priest pronounced the couple husband and wife, and the couple kissed. The piano started again, and the bells chimed. The couple walked with linked arms back down the aisle while everyone stood. Tails wagged everywhere.

Just before the couple stepped through the chapel doors, the new bride turned and looked at Yip. She smiled at Yip and the warmest, most comforting feeling overcame the cute little puppy.

Yip was her cute little puppy.

The couple left, and everyone dispersed.

Yip knew it was time to go back.

She crossed the village and bounded through forest and across the meadow to where it meets shorter grass and occasional bald patches.

She knew the butterfly wouldn’t be there.

Dear Australia,

It is done.

I can’t describe my feelings, not properly, not with any sort of justice or eloquence.

I miss her. The ache stabs. It burns. It wrings and gouges and shreds. The void has too much power.

My mind flashes memories of our walking the city streets, her dodging cafe umbrellas while I walk under them with plenty of clearance. Our standing at intersections, watching her eyes, intent as sentinels, on the traffic, so I, too, would know when to cross.

My mind reaches back to our first meeting, in November 2004, where she stood somewhat aloof while an old friend and I caught up. We explored Midtown that day in the pouring rain.

One time I called her while babysitting for a family in my ward, close to five years ago. We talked of fast friendship, and maybe Star Trek. We laughed.

Movies, music, massages, mail returns. City strolls and subway stunts and Serendipity and award-winning cinema. Rats and road trips, and simply rejoicing in each other’s company.

Tears and turmoil. Laughter, love.

I was there when she began falling in love. I knew it would run its course, and I know the course has not yet ended. It has only begun.


She’s married, five days now, going on forever.

In Australia.

You, Barry: I blame you.

I want her back. I need her back. I need her smiling eyes and steady presence and her gentle voice to reassure me. I need to exchange knowing smirks, as I look up and she looks down, of our juxtaposed heights and the seeming paradox of the not-so-well-kept secret that we are, undoubtedly, the very, very best of friends.

That’s why she let me win at miniature golf. That’s why I don’t make fun of her anymore for mistaking Bono for Bon Jovi. That’s why the individual time we spent together back in September and October, before I up and left, I treasure beyond anything in this world. That’s why the chasm in my chest pushes so relentlessly against the rest of my heart. I just can’t stand being away. And now, so very far away.

She looked incredible in white, though. She looked completely happy with her groom.

And the groom? I trust him. He’s good and kind and funny and totally committed to giving Becky the very best life he can.

I fully support that.

Maybe I’ll just let my mind continue to reach, to fathom the past five years and the culminating events that bring us to now and into eternity.

We’ll share her instead.

Okay.

With my deepest gratitude,
May

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