Love Labor's Lost

volumes of mis-adventures

You’re Slight; You’re a work horse; these are today’s flattering compliments…

on September 12, 2011

Weddings are a great place to see old friends, meet new acquaintances, create fond memories, and experience new…experiences. My best friend from college got married a couple weekends ago. I could talk ad nauseum about the unbelievable surreal landscape of their wedding ceremony. Their beautiful vows. Their ridiculously talented friends that made the entire weekend an undeniable success and an unforgettable moment in time. I suppose there is no such thing as a bad wedding, not really, but the Doely’s wedding was so exemplary of their personality: elegant, simple, crafty, beautiful, friendly, and smile inducing. I think about the entire day of September 5th and can’t see anything other than ample light and joy, despite the partly cloudy skies. I had the privilege of capturing the occasion on “film” (in a digital age, we need to start coming up with new terminology), as their photographer, and I don’t think there was a way to truly do that day any justice. I really can’t say enough about these two wonderful people and how deliriously happy I am I was a part of their moment, but now, this isn’t a blog about weddings, and this certainly isn’t a blog about my photography, so, on to the juicy gossip.

Of course, at weddings you would expect some single ladies, some single men, interestingly enough there were very few, and far between, of both, but don’t get discouraged, I scoped it all out, I did some detective work, and I put all the clues together. As the photographer, I was fairly busy for the majority of the day and through the first half of the reception: taking candids during speeches and while people were eating, but once the tables parted like the red sea, and the dance floor emerged, this girl hit that like a light switch in a dark room (hmmm, weird analogy, but let’s go with it.) Dancing to Rhianna, Jay-Z, and PuffDaddy (or whatever he’s calling himself these days) everyone was coming to life, although many might argue the alcohol was finally fully streaming through all of our veins. Then I finally met, let’s call him Mangrove. He was medium height (but I guess tall for me), from the eastern coastal region, he was comfortably rooted on the sidelines of the saturated dance floor.  A tall friend of mine had hinted earlier to his natural state of availability. With two glasses of wine, and a hint of something extra in my system, I approached him with a “disarming” smile, his word not mine. Just as soon as I struck up conversation, we were back on separate sides of the dance floor, rockin’ out  to yet another Top 40’s hit. Most of my friends, married and otherwise engaged, at this point had bid me adieu as they had long drives and tasks to see to in the morning. As I watched the few people I had been waiting months to see, disappear, I turned my sights on Mangrove, walked up behind him, gently hooked his arm with mine, and with a docile tone of seduction said, “Let’s take a walk outside.”

What I will recall next could be the blurry vision, the unstable footing of each of my steps, or a hazy hopeful memory, but from what I remember it had a fairytale spin to it with a few wildly outspoken and blunt moments on my part. As we walked over the railroad tracks toward the sandy river bank of the Mississippi, there was a camp fire in the distance, and a tent propped up along side it. The stars were ablaze and I started that blabbering tactic I have when I get myself into a situation which I hadn’t completely thought through. Seemingly keeping his cool, and simultaneously keeping me from falling over, during a conversation of ebbs and flows, he smoothly leaned over for a gentle kiss.  As we carried on like a couple of teenagers on a summer’s night, we stumbled around, realizing neither one of us had a steady head, let alone the proper kinesthesis. In between kisses there was gentle prodding of the relocation variety, to which, this gal, being the prudent lady that I am, blurted out: “we can’t go back to the Lodge bad things will happen. We are not having sex!” Or at least something to that effect. Surprisingly enough, Mangrove did not shy away from my boisterous proclamation, I don’t remember what he said, but I definitely remember making out followed. His lips were soft, his eyes forest green glistening from the little moonlight of the evening, he kissed with experience, making me melt into his embrace, although that also may have been because I couldn’t stand straight on my own accord (that makes me sound super drunk, I really wasn’t, but enough that I was less balanced than normal).

I can’t say what got into me this specific night, but I remember speaking my mind more freely than ever before. I remember saying on multiple occasions we can’t go back to the lodge, because we might have sex. I remember responding to Mangrove’s attempts at figuring out how to take my dress off with, you don’t have to figure it out because we aren’t having sex. I remember saying you’re not going to call me and that’s ok. I remember saying I’m never going to see you again, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t remember when I got so cynical. I could say it was the last 3 guys who made me feel like crap about myself, I could say it’s because of my derelict non-relationships, I could say it’s everyone else’s fault, but I think I finally know that it’s not. Those other guys didn’t like me, and that’s ok. They have their reasons and I’ve started to try and not think about them too much, because obviously those don’t make a girl feel too good about herself.  I can also say that because of those guys I started running a lot more, I’ve decided to be more adventurous in my life: skydiving, rock climbing, and being more verbose and honest, rather than timid and mute.

I’m turning 24 in 6 days, I’ve had tons of experiences, I’m almost done with my masters thesis, I have no idea what I want to do, and I’m finally happy. I am  content with my life. I feel like there is so much knowledge to gain, so many experiences to be had, and I’m kind of tired of being stuck in one spot. Once I graduate, I’m excited for the adventure of my life to really begin, until then I’ll continue to spice up my life in little ways.

Turns out Mangrove might be one of the nicest guys I’ve ever hooked up with. We’ve continued to chat via Facebook, and text once in a while, and I have to say he’s pretty easy to talk to. Who knew there were still somewhat decent guys in this world, so I guess thanks for that, Man, you’ve reinstated a glimmer of hope for the future of all gals hoping to find someone, and I for one am happy to call you my friend.

I feel as though this post isn’t nearly as juicy as most, but I felt that Mangrove deserves respect, there were other things that went on that night, but I think the realization that I’ve had since then is somewhat of a moment of revelation, a word to the wise, and although I know there are few of you that read this blog, I found myself needing to write more about how far I’ve come since January/February when Doogie was not so nice.

Take it easy. I hope to write more soon, but it seems that I don’t have nearly as many exciting stories as I once thought I did, and I’d much rather focus on what is happening now, than ruminating about what detrimental past memories I might have—Mangrove, safe to say, you’ll be remembered in the good book. well played.


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