Not only the day that Trolley got hitched, but a chance to see Adam and Tomasini and Eric and Nick and Alison; the people I only get to hang out with when camping or partying at the farm. I missed Adam and his ever ebullient attitude most of all, something that never fails to buoy the spirits. Even though we didn’t get a chance to talk much through all the preparation, it was enough to hear his voice and laughter.

 

It was back to Stanley’s Maple Farm¹ for the outdoor wedding. The rain continued up to half an hour before the ceremony then stopped completely, as if god himself had a hand in ordainment.

You just need to look at the smile on Trolley’s face to understand how happy he is.

The reception was open bar, with prime rib and a dessert buffet at the end. I had been waiting over a year to have the prime rib dinner, as I was going through an undiagnosed case of IBS at Aaron’s wedding and was left eating bread. Even Pat, my gourmand friend, said that it was cooked to perfection, and found out that the venue has a deal with the farm up the road to get the best cuts of meat.

We surprised the newly wedded couple with the shoe game, where they answer a series of questions without knowing how the other one will answer. They surprised us with how many they answered in sync. A good sign for the newly wed.

 

Nick humourously noted that there weren’t many single girls around, but being able to hang out with Aaron in the MC booth made me feel much less awkward and abandoned than the last wedding I went to.

At one point, Trolley came up to me and asked me _____ __ _________ ____ _____. It was his wedding, but he was concerned about me. I couldn’t believe it even entered his mind with everything going on around him, and it was certainly the part I’ll remember most about that night.

1. The same place Aaron got married. [↑]

I spent the weekend at Trolley’s place and had a great time. We just hung out, played Gamecube, and watched some movies. I’m not sure if I overstayed my welcome, but I’m sure that any good host is able to blur that fine line. It’s good to have another friend that I can connect with. Wheaties and Ian went skiing at Tremblant, and although I was invited, I felt like I wasn’t prepared to spend over $100 on a lift ticket with rentals.

Trolley also introduced me to Crank Yankers, a hilarious show on Comedy Central. The concept of the show is that people make crank calls, and both the roles of caller and reciever are played out using puppets. The crank calls are usually very original though, sometimes involving a third party (such as a mother picking up the phone while her son is calling about a penis enlarger). Everything is very well done, and the actors are able to improvise their lines with perfect precision depending on what an unwitting participant says. My favourite
series of crank calls are by Spoonie Love, the resident playa (played by SNL’s Tracey Morgan). Sometimes he’ll call a newspaper to place a classified ad, and his message will involve busting a double horizontal on someone’s ass.

Thom lent me his Pantera DVD, 3 Vulgar Videos from Hell. The music hasn’t been that great, but the behind-the-scenes and concert footage is good. It’s also mesmerizing to see the confidence that Phil Anselmo exudes at the concerts, the way Danko Jones or Kid Rock seem to in their music videos.

I was awakened by Dolly scratching at my sheets this morning. As soon as I lifted them up, she went underneath and tried to sleep on my stomach. Unfortunately, my thin frame didn’t provide much of a foundation, and she slid to one side, but eventually fell asleep there anyway. It’s the first time she has been comfortable enough to sleep under the sheets, instead of beside my head as usual.

I stumbled across the site of an intelligent girl who writes about things in relationships not commonly discussed, and who happens to inhabit the same city as I do. I enjoy the polish and depth that her editorials have, but I think it’s her openness that I can appreciate most. It’s always fascinating to find out a female opinion on some of the more taboo sex related subjects, instead of the opinion which other guys believe they know.

The entire Columbia Space Shuttle incident has made me feel like we’re still very primitive in our exploration methods, and that we should simply leave well enough alone until we’re ready. It’s like we’re trying to break the sound barrier again, and people are sacrificing their lives in the pursuit of knowledge. I suppose that if they’re willing to make that sacrifice, then their decision must be respected. Otto Lilienthal would be proud.