Austin, Texas
There were some girls selling un-cute dogs in front of a cup cake streamer, and we bought abominable flavors of snow cones from a man who was 6'7 and 110 lbs. He was whistling French songs from the 20's and he was in charge of various sodas. I love you, Austin, Texas, and I miss your side walks and idea-peddling Greenpeace maniacs who want to tell me about how big corporations are cutting down trees for no reason. It was so hot out I was sweating like a nervous boy, and I was glad I didn't wear the dress I was going to wear to the wedding, which was my original bad plan.
I'm not against pants because I am trying to indulge myself. I'm against them because they stick to your legs like a Chinese finger trap. I think all Southern people feel this way, or else we never would have invented jean shorts.
The wedding was later that night. My high heels aerated the wet grass as I un-gracefully shoved as many nachos into my mouth at once while still maintaining eye contact with a guy who was telling me about his marketing job in Salt Lake City. He looked like a disheveled Steven Colbert, and his wife was one of those earnest, cool girls I wished I could be better friends with. Ev and Matt played the intro-music for the ceremony and seemed like they spoke their own twin-languge as they told each other what to play with their eyes. Rachel and I sat side by side in the audience in the exact same color dress feeling thematic. The bride looked like a statue from the 20s, and the groom's knees literally buckled when she dropped a mid-vow medical pun.
Weddings are romantic because the person you love gets drunk enough to dance with you. We took these pictures there.