Turns out Tubby was going to be gone this weekend, too. I hadn't realized this was the weekend he headed for Vegas. (I still fail to see people's attraction to the Land of Lost Wages.) We arranged for a friend to stop by the house once or twice a day to make sure the cats had plenty of food and water and perhaps even a little attention.
This arrangement led to one of the weekend's anxious moments. (You've already read about the phone fiasco.) I called my friend on Sunday to see how things were with the cats. He informed me that Foz had been outside and that he saw no sign of Asia. He checked under Tubby's bed for Asia but didn't bother checking my room because the door was closed. This posed two problems. One, I left Foz inside. I delayed my departure until Foz left the stairwell and came back inside because I didn't want to leave him out all weekend. I made sure he was in the living room before I left via the front door, which Foz is afraid of. Two, I left the door to my room open, so that both cats could have access and Asia could sleep under my bed if he wanted. So, how did Foz get outside and my door get closed? Only my friend and Bri knew I was leaving the back door unlocked.
I think I've pieced it together, though. Bri needed to stop by to get some of his belongings. He left the back door open while he was in the kitchen, and Foz, who was eager to get out, must have darted by him when he wasn't looking. I also forgot to turn off my alarm clock, so I'm guessing that one of the girls downstairs got tired of the loud alarm clock coming from my room and took it upon herself to shut it off and close my door. Either that, or one of the cats shut it.
I was so nervous that Asia had gotten outside (he's an indoor cat, I've been told) or was locked in my room without access to water, food, or litter! Luckily, my friend went back to my place and opened my bedroom door, just in case. And when I got home Sunday night, both cats were inside and seemed happy to see me. (In fact, Asia has hardly let me out of his sight since I've been home.)
The weekend's other non-phone-related moment of anxiety involved my belt and pants. I have slimmed down a lot since starting Atkins back in February. Neither my belt (bought in August 2002) or my suit pants (bought this March or April) fit me anymore. Fortunately, Maine Mall was just minutes from our airport, so before the wedding ceremony I went to Macy's and found a nice belt. I tried on several belts and determined I was a size 38. Then I grabbed the belt I liked best and paid for it. When I got back to the hotel, I put my suit on and slipped the belt on ... but the belt was enormous! It wrapped half again around me! I didn't have time to go back to Macy's, so I grabbed the cheap, plastic-y black belt I had brought as an insurance policy. It worked adequately enough to get me through the wedding mass, but I knew that if I tried to dance in this get-up I would be popular for all the wrong reasons. So, after the wedding I returned to Macy's instead of going straight to the reception. The belt I bought clearly had been mislabelled, because I verified that I am indeed a 38 in belts. I had to settle for a different style, but I was able to dance that night without feeling self-conscious about my pants.
I had fun for the most part. Stayed up till 4 a.m. on Friday night/Saturday morning playing low-stakes Texas Hold 'Em with a bunch of guys who didn't realize you're supposed to fold shit hands. It was frustrating watching them beat my pocket jacks, for instance, with a crap hand because they got lucky on the River! But some of the hands that were played gave us all belly laughs. (One guy, e.g., went all in with an unsuited 2-3 because he though he had a decent shot at the straight. Another guy won a pot with the high card, a 6!)
Saturday morning I went on a lobster fishing tour with other wedding guests. We learned how to tell male and female lobsters apart, how to tell if a lobster is legal or must be thrown back, how to bait the traps, etc. It was instructive and a great excuse to get out on the water in the bay basking in the sun.
On Sunday we all went to Old Orchard Beach, which is Maine's answer to Coney Island. We enjoyed the sun, the food, and the rides.
The wedding itself was nice. It was a traditional Catholic wedding, which means it was part of a Mass. The Mass was conducted by a Capuchin monk, and I thought he gave a very meaningful and appropriate homily. I felt a bit self-conscious during the Eucharist, though, as I was the only person from the groom's side to get in line for the Host. (The bride's side is Catholic, but I believe the groom's side is mostly Unitarian.) The monk gave me a funny look, as if to say, "Aren't you on the groom's side and therefore not Catholic?", so I made sure to genuflect a little deeper than usual!
The reception took place at Ri-Ra's, and Irish pub. There was Irish dancing and contra dancing. Then a splendid dinner (with open bar the whole night). Finally, dancing with a DJ. The DJ sucked, though. He'd play maybe three upbeat dance songs and then 3-4 slow songs. And every once in a while, he's throw in a little James Taylor or equivalent. How on earth does one dance to "Fire and Rain"??? Despite the DJ, though, I had a blast!