june 22 in twenty-eight

Let me see if I can convey the suckfest that has been my life for the last several days.

The driving to and from Key West actually wasn't bad. It was the best part of the whole trip. The company was great and we both drove equal amounts.

When we got there, I checked in while roomie drove around and around trying to find parking. There was none. The hotel didn't even have any and it was just hard to find a spot anywhere. Eventually though we got lucky (at least 45 minutes later, though), which was a relief because roomie was so tired I thought he was going to snap at the smallest thing, so he went to sleep while I put on a cotton dress and attended the welcoming party. I was tired but not that tired. I'm not sure how I was functioning through all of it, but I had several drinks and didn't feel like I was going to fall over asleep. Around eight I came back to the hotel and woke up roomie and we went to get dinner. We ate at a really great place and shared a burger and some of the best pork tacos I've ever had. I stopped for some key lime pie on the way back and we went to bed pretty soon after that. Or I tried to, but then R, the bride, texted me and asked of I wanted to come over to share a bottle of wine with her and her sister. I thought it was really sweet of her to invite me so of course I said yes. I had one glass of wine and I was back in bed by midnight. We talked about the ceremony and what still had to be done and how she was feeling...it was nice. So Thursday was a good day.

Friday we woke up around ten. We wanted to see the beach while we were there, and the night before R said we should go to the beach where the ceremony was being held since it cost $2.50 per person to enter but it lasted all day. So we walked there, getting lost on the first attempt. It was about a half mile to the entrance to the fort (it's also a civil war fort, thus the entry fee), but we had to walk at least another half mile from the entrance to the actual beach. We were under the impression that since you had to pay to get in, it was a good beach. Quite the opposite. It was rocky and not very pretty and we were in the water for perhaps ten minutes. But we had a sense of humor about it and were on our way back to the hotel shortly after.

By this time I had a blister the size of a quarter on the bottoms of both of my feet but I made it back just fine. We went to get lunch at the same place where the welcome party was held the night before. I had a lobster melt and it was great. Just maybe not $20 great.

We still had some time before we had to get ready for the wedding so we came back to get a quick nap. I had just closed my eyes when R texted me saying that if I wanted to come help with some last minute prep, she needed it. I couldn't say no. Although it was a little uncomfortable being in the room while she and her mom and sister were getting ready and drinking champagne and sharing inside jokes and stories about growing up. I just say there silently and wrote on little jars, "advice and well wishes for the new Mr. and Mrs." I finished just in time to come back and start getting ready.

The trolley for the ceremony departed at five and I felt rushed at the end but we were the first ones downstairs waiting. I hate people who can't be on time. Anyhow, we were taken to the ceremony location while the trolley went back to pick up the wedding party. And the people we were with were AWFUL. The grooms friends were all dicks. The brides friends weren't any better. I had met a lot of her friends before but had never really had to spend much time with them. They were for the most part rude, loud, and inconsiderate. Roomie and I kept rolling our eyes at each other.

While we were waiting at the beach, I sat down at a picnic table and my feet were resting on top of a huge party of fire ants. That didn't take long to realize. My feet and ankles were ON FIRE and it took forever to brush them all off. Somehow I resisted the urge to scratch and I think that saved me from getting a lot of welts. My advice is to never get attacked by fire ants. It burned like crazy. Then it itched like crazy. All around a good time.

The ceremony was fine. Typical length, which I guess was about 25 minutes too long for roomie. Then we had to wait around while they took pictures. It was at least half an hour of this. Then we went off to the cocktail hour while the bride and groom took more pictures and thunder was rumbling threateningly in the background.

It never did rain.

The cocktail hour was fine. Open bars are always great and they had pretty good hors d'oeuvres, too. My favorite was a small mushroom stuffed with goat cheese. Dinner got started pretty late but the food was also really good.

It was so humid that my hair was a mess before the ceremony even started. But who cares I guess?

I desperately wanted a dance. Just one. But they never played a slow song and that was a huge disappointment. It was what I was looking to most. At eleven, when it ended, we left. I had considered going out with everyone afterward, but I was feeling really down about myself and I really was fed up with the people. Drinking with them was the last thing I wanted. I love R but the other guests were just the worst.

On the tour of the Hemingway house, which was where the reception was located, directly across the street from the hotel, the mother of the groom was being just awful. Unprompted, she announced that she had brought her mom, who was in a wheelchair, on the tour because she was going to die soon and would never get to see it again. When the guide mentioned that Hemingway was born in the late 1800's, she leaned over to us and said, "that's not so far off from when she was born. 1922. She is ninety-fucking-two years old. And I've been taking care of her since I was eighteen, you know. When do I get a break?" His grandmother is not senile, she probably heard all of it. Also, I doubt the validity of her claim since I know that the grandmother was the one who raised the groom. Not his own mother. That was the point when I walked away and made it a point to not be around her. She seemed so toxic.

So I ended up crying in bed after roomie went to sleep. I'm not happy about it, but weddings are so hard for me. It's not because I want to take away anyone's happiness, because I don't. It's that it's hard for me to be around it because I feel overly aware of my own loneliness. If I ever get remarried I won't have a wedding. I don't have enough people in my life for that. And that is what is hard. I'm happy for other people who do have it and don't want their joy to be diminished. I just want it, too. I don't think it's in the cards for me.

Another hard thing is that last year on June 20th, something really difficult happened to me. Nothing I can share here but it was a hard reminder.

Saturday we woke up at 8:30 and were on the road by 9:15. I was ready to leave and doubt I will be going back. Florida does nothing for me. The drive back was very quiet. I just felt heavy-hearted and didn't have much worth saying. I think roomie sensed that. Or at least he didn't seem to mind the silence. We stopped a few times for food and gas, and we pulled into our apartment complex at eight this morning.

And then slept.

And then my day went to crap. I was going to drive over to take my sister a few things she had left behind at my apartment and decided to get the mail first. As I was pulling in, I noticed that roomie and his kid were walking a bit behind me. I got distracted and scraped up against the gutter. And of course there was a cop sitting RIGHT THERE. I would have told the complex about it anyway and paid for the damage so that wasn't the issue. He comes up to my car and noticed I was holding my cell phone. Which I had grabbed right after this happened. He asked what was going on and I said I had accidentally scraped up against the post. And he said, "scraped? You BASHED into that post." Which wasn't true but I wasn't going to talk back. Then he asked if it was related to my cell phone and I said no, that I hadn't been on it. He gave me a look like he was sure I was lying and I just kept telling him that I wasn't. And he said he didn't see how this could have even happened. I said it was an accident and I had gotten distracted. Then he took down my name and address and phone number and ran my license and then came back and said it looked like all I had done was damaged the pipe and I should tell the complex and there didn't seem to be any structural damage to the actual post, somehow (which is because I barely scraped it and didn't "bash" into it). And then said have a nice day. He was being incredibly rude and accusatory before he ran my license but wasn't as much of a dick after. I don't know why he changed his tone but it still really upset me. I didn't do anything wrong. It was an accident which I had intended to report anyway. People do make mistakes...and I don't think I look like someone who is trying to get away with something. I made eye contact and didn't talk back but still answered him honestly and didn't change my story. I walked away from the whole thing just really upset.

So then I went to the grocery store and bawled my eyes out in the parking lot for a solid ten minutes. I hate being yelled at. I hate being treated like I'm a bad person. I don't like when authority figures are disappointed with me. It's just hard and I felt really alone because I don't think I was able to convey how upset I was to roomie about it and it didn't really seem like he cared to do the one thing I need when I'm upset, which is to simply be held. That's probably my fault. I don't tell people how important that is to me and so they probably think I just want space. I don't. I want to be consoled.

Plus I think he was exhausted from a long day so I kept it to myself. Which is probably best. I don't think people really know how to "deal" with me when I'm upset.

Well. If you made it through this whole thing then you deserve a medal or something. It's midnight and I'm going to sleep even though I'm likely not going to work tomorrow (had it scheduled off anyway and I need a stay in bed day). Tomorrow I'm making mushroom goat cheese frittatas. I already cooked up the mushrooms and mixed in the goat cheese to save on having to do a lot of work tomorrow and it tastes really good. I'm excited. So there is a positive note to end on.