wedding day -- austin, day 5
Wedding preparations throughout most of the morning. Since I made my preference known not to be abandoned again, I got a haircut while the ladies got pedicures and manicures. Mer apparently had a very painful pedicure procedure; the technician was digging under her nails with iron implements and farming tools. Or so I was led to believe. I just chatted with my hairstylist about Queer Eye and how we, with our sig others, are contributing to the decline and fall of American civilization. Or at least whatever civilization is left on TV.
And then off to suburban Austin once more to watch S&S get married.
I have an O'Keefe moment, or at least a "dentist's office photography" moment
People who can take care of plants!
More planty goodness
Sometimes you just end up in the right place at the right time.
As usual, I obsess about food. Mmmmm... ceviche.
Cake... cake... must have Mexican cake...
After the wedding, we took a friend and went off to the Alamo once again. Unfortunately, Intolerable Cruelty was sold out, and there was only one vote among the three of us for seeing Kill Bill, so I had to endure some intolerable cruelty of my own by seeing Under the Tuscan Sun.
Oh dear God... sun-dappled fields, repairing old villas, oh, and let's not forget the hastily-contrived hot men that show up at extremely opportune times. It's movie porn for women in the same way that any given Bruce Willis movie is movie porn for men. (It doesn't make either of them any less idiotic.) This movie even had a little kitten lapping up milk. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
I guess my extreme aversion to the movie is because I'd seen a far more excellent love story -- one which deals all the more realistically with love and makes the story so much more compelling -- fairly recently, so that all the contrived stuff Under the Tuscan Sun shoves in front of you is more annoying in the end.
It was all OK, though. After it all we came back to our corporate hotel and rented Old School on their SpectraVision system. Mostly extremely forgettable -- except all the pain of Under the Tuscan Sun was banished by the sight of Will Ferrell running around hopped up (or way, way down, as the case may be) on wild animal tranquilizers.