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Barb Trickett and Brian Watts got married yesterday. Some pictures are contained within. Barb got married in her back yard, which was the same place she’d thrown her annual deck parties for like 15 years. So this was like a slightly more formal deck party, except she and Brian made a lifetime commitment in the middle of it, and there was dancing instead of wiffle ball.

It was very nice, and very Barb in that it was clever and playful and chill. The wedding invitations had stick figure drawings of a bride and groom. For dessert, there was a table of candy which people were welcome to take in plastic bags back to their table (and to save for children, I assume). At the reception (also in the back yard) everyone was invited to draw pictures of themselves on a placemat for Barb and Brian to keep. Instead of cards, everyone’s table assignments were elegantly handwritten on smooth stones. Fun stuff.

It is mind-blowing to realize how long I’ve known my oldest friends. Barb, for example, I met during my freshman year at UConn, when I realized I had forgotten to bring black socks to marching band. I complained about this out loud, and she had an extra pair. That was in October 1988. It doesn’t feel that long ago, but it is. Seeing my college friends all surrounded by at least 2 children was jarring also.

Still, when everyone gets together, it’s a bit like conditional learning. It seems like it’s going to be weird, but then it really feels like it always did. Or maybe memories are selective. In a way, everyone from college seems exactly the same as they always did. But when I think of how differently *I* feel from when I was a freshman compared with now — then I assume everyone must feel that way. I suppose it’s like everyone has come into focus more. There were X number of ways we all could have gone from college — and all of them would have made sense. And so now we’ve each settled into one of those ways, and we can all look back and trace it back to the person we knew at UConn.

Eliza couldn’t go to the wedding, but she came to the rehearsal dinner and met everyone. What’s more nerve-wracking — having my friends meet her? Or having her meet my old friends? I’m not a good host in group situations like that — I feel a pressure to try and take care of all parties and consequently withdraw and take care of none. But Eliza handled the weirdness of being in a huge group of strangers well, and my friends were nice. So that was easier than I had expected.

The weather was beautiful, but stiflingly hot. I sweat bullets in an autumn breeze, so yesterday was an endurance test for me, in a black suit in the sun. I held up all right, I believe.