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1:18 am EDT 76°F (24°C) in Dearborn, MI
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I have returned to "da Mitten" after my trip up north last week; I am finally starting to catch up on some sleep, as I didn't manage to get much of that in da U.P.. In any case, the wedding itself went off without a hitch, and I got many pictures of the people involved and the beautiful setting — I may put some of those up before long. I swore that their limo driver was trying to lead me on the Marquette equivalent of the O.J. chase on the way to the reception (I had been given "follow the limo" orders to get to the correct place), but once everybody arrived at the reception, tons of fun was had by all. I even caught the garter when Eric tossed it; frankly, I think I could use the luck. (Or will it really work out that no other single male who was there will ever get married, seeing as I have to be the first one to marry? )
Interestingly enough, I have to admit to having had a major case of the hots for a female friend of Eric's sister. She wasn't at the wedding and only showed up near the tail end of the reception, but I can only say "damn, she was hot." But never fear, my gay readers: I wanted the extremely hot (male) bartender too.
Although I never talked about this in 2001, when it actually happened, Eric helped to save my ass on more than one occasion. Anybody who has read my July 19 entry knows all about the financial struggles I was going through during that year. Eric loaned me a combined total of $1,100 in three separate parts; in fact, one of those three loans was solely and completely responsible for allowing me one extra month in the Redford, MI house I was renting the basement of at the time. What's more, over the past four years, he has only rarely even said anything about it; in fact, on more than one occasion, he had unequivocally told me that he wanted me to move forward with my life (college, place to live, car, etc.) before worrying about paying him back.
I figured the wedding was as good an occasion as any, and at a "gift-opening" party on Saturday, I handed Eric a check for $1,500 to both (a) pay back the loans and (b) throw in either interest or a wedding gift, whichever of those he chose to consider it. I suggested he could take that and his 1987 Chevrolet S-10 to a car dealership as a down payment and trade-in on something new, although I'm sure he and Angela can find a million other uses for the money as well. Getting married ain't cheap, ya know.
It looks like I'm going to have to make a trip down to the universe's epicenter of sucking, also known as Columbus, OH, later this week. (It's the capital of the most sucky state, and it hosts the suckiest university on earth, so there. ) I'm not due to come back from my vacation/"home time" until this Sunday, but my D.O.T. physical exam expires this upcoming Friday. If I don't have it done by Friday, I can't take the truck anywhere, even to one of the company's terminals, to get it done, but at the same time, for whatever dumb reason, they won't let me have it done up here near Detroit. (I mean, last I checked, a D.O.T. physical is a D.O.T. physical, no matter who does it — federal regulations spell out exactly what a doctor needs to do, and any doctor anywhere should be able to conform to those regulations, not just a select few doctors near company terminals.) Anyway, seeing as the nearest company terminal is in Columbus, that's where I'll have to go to get this done — although I'm letting my higher-ups know that I expect to be reimbursed for the use of my own car to do this, and will pitch a major fit if they try to deny that.
I ought to be going to bed at this point.