One of the many wonderful things about my dad, is that he’s always toting around his trusty black medicine case. He literally never leaves home without it. Though some people may call him a hypochondriac, I just call him prepared. If anyone ever gets a mysterious back spasm? Call dad. Can’t sleep? Jack’ll hook you up with some Melatonin pills. This weekend, my parents are visiting and thankfully, my dad brought me a few asthma inhalers since I forgot to refill my prescription.
Actually, my dad seems to double as a pharmacist at very convenient times. My wedding day in particular comes to mind. For some reason, I had a strange phobia of puking and peeing on myself while saying my vows. Cold feet? Nah, I was 100% sure I wanted to marry Grey; I simply didn’t want to humiliate myself in front all of my friends and family.
Apparently, my dad felt the same way because that morning, while we were getting ready, he decreed: “Stacey, I think today is a seven valium day.” I laughed, but he really wasn’t joking. Of course, I didn’t realize this until the dinner toast when he started reading his To Do List instead of his father of the bride speech. All the guests thought it a joke when he began deadpan: “Pick up giftbags. Drop off bridal bouquets. Get tux tailored.” I think he got midway down the honey-do list my mom made for him before he realized he was reading the wrong piece of paper!
I would have been rolling on the floor laughing about this, but I had hit him up for a few valium myself (which I washed down with some champagne), so I just smiled calmly during the speech and thought about how fascinating the twinkle lights on the dance floor were. In fact, most of the day I pretty much just grinned and imagined myself sliding down giant mountains made of funnel cake and floating down a river of chocolate milk. When, during the ceremony Grey was sweating buckets, I was cool as a cucumber. I remember wiping his brow with my hanky and thinking, “What’s all the fuss about?” A MUCH better alternative than barfing on myself, I must say!
Riding away on our golf cart...this is one of the last things I remember of my wedding!
One of my oldest friends in the world, Julia Peck, just announced her engagement to her long time boyfriend, Juergen. Julia and Juergen, a native German, met while scuba diving in Thailand and then traveled the world together for years. They drove through the Australian outback in a VW bus, bungee jumped backwards with their eyes closed, and of course, fell in love.
Julia used to send me pictures for years of them living in their bus – holding water bottles over each other for a shower, catching fresh fish with their hands for dinner. They went all over the world together by land, sea, and air before they were even dating for a year.
The last time I saw her this smitten was at Camp Friendship in 1993 with her first kiss, Dan Harrington, which is saying a lot. Since I am a borderline hoarder, I kept my diary from camp and came across some real amazing lines, like when I record everything that everyone wore and how hot it was. Red umbros and a Jurrasic Park t-shirt on a man really got me going back then. Julia and I also spent a lot of time going to the woods to make out with our boyfriends, which pretty much guarantees that my future children will be attending same sex camp.
In 18 years, we’ve gone through some gloriously ridiculous tmes. Julia is still toying with whether to get married in Germany or Washington, but I promised her that even if she got married on the moon I would be there.
As you can tell from this awesome journal entry penned at camp, Julia has been watching out for me in the romance department for years. Don't worry, the end of this note turns out well. Dean and I spent the rest of camp making out in the woods in questionable early '90s getups.
Who sends their 12 year old kids to hang-gliding camp? Our parents! And thank god they did or we might not have fallen in love with our instructor named Miles and composed the amazing song "Miles and miles of my love for Miles."
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