back home

I assume I'm back.

Several days of pre-wedding drinking, as I was an honorary groomsman. I gave myself that title because not only did my dress perfectly match the tuxes (unplanned, as I didn't know what the tuxes looked like when packing my dress), but I spent every waking minute with the groom and his men. I even was with them during the pre-ceremony getting ready stage. I was outside when they had no pants, but back in for the rest. The people I knew at the wedding were the groom, his men, and the groom's family. And the bride of course, but I haven't known her for the same 11 years I've known the groom.

Sunday:
Birthday Boyfriend Lunch (with the groomsmen still), see my friend, eat tasty Thai food, wander around a town I lived in for 6 or 7 years but will never live in again (one reason: it was 8pm when we were there and everything was closed) meet friends' cats, airport, 5-hour red-eye.

Sunday blends into Monday.

Arrive in NYC at 7:30am, wait in the taxi line for nonexistant taxis, decide to take the 2-hour train home, see a newly formed line of taxis, but still a hideously long wait, get home. Want pizza, stupid pizza place doesn't "open" til 11. Keep calling until they answer, after 12. Pizza arrives at 1. Eat. Pretext of watching the Simpsons, but really sleep. Actually go sleep in bed.
Still not quite sure if I'm awake or asleep now. Cry a little because tomorrow means going to work.

So that's it. Vacation endings are ever so depressing.