August 12, 2002


I don’t know about you, but my forehead, cheekbones, and nose are about as red as … well, as red gets I suppose. The sunburn was worth it, of course, for the honor of witnessing Justin’s marriage to his long-time significant other, Erica.

Prior to the ceremony, due to my overestimation of the drive time between Berkeley and Santa Cruz, I found myself walking along a beach carrying a lidless cup of very hot tea, towards a pier at the end of which was a wrecked disaster of a World War I refueling ship. I was the only beachgoer that particular morning wearing (among other things) a tie and cursing when the oscillations of the tea compounded to send scalding drops of liquid pouring over my hand and hitting my shiny black shoes.

I guess I was thinking that if I could ignore the people who were inevitably noticing such an out-of-place person at a Santa Cruz beach at 9:30 on a Sunday morning, then I could survive a wedding reception full of old high school acquaintances. It really wasn’t that bad.

Nevertheless, the walk to the pier and the following outdoor ceremony (and in no small part the energy of that enormous flaming ball of hydrogen in the sky) combined to leave my noggin burned to the core. It was a beautiful wedding though. I’m very happy for Justin and very pleased to have been there.

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