For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave to his wife...

In between our subletted apartment in Ithaca and the carriage house in New Haven, we're staying with Justin's family. There's wireless here, which is why I'm blogging again.

At dinner tonight, Justin's mom was trying to convince Weatherly that she needs to schedule her own doctor's appointments because she's legally an adult now. Justin pointed out that she might be of legal age, but they still claim her as a dependent, and added, "When I became an adult was when I had my wife do my taxes."

Reunion

I had guards like watchdogs, etc.

This is going to be a blog entry about basically nothing.

I didn't go to my 10-year high school reunion, back in 2003, for several reasons:

1. I didn't really have any good friends in my graduating class to begin with. All the people I keep in touch with, or really liked in the first place, were a year or two ahead of or behind me. I found out before the reunion that one guy I genuinely did like had died of leukemia, so one less reason to go, bummer.

2. It was in October. In Seattle. I was living in Virginia and was in grad school. So thanks for that really helpful scheduling.

3. Actually, I did have a reading break that weekend and part of the next week, but I wanted to use that time to visit the guy I was going to marry.

4. It was like $75 plus a cash bar. Dude. And not drinking around these people was pretty much not an option.

But I was curious about what these reunion thingies were like. We were in town for Justin's this summer, he actually had friends in his graduating class*, and it was a lot less expensive. So I encouraged him to go. This is how we dressed (another belly picture, this time at like 32 weeks, if you can see the belly under Justin's hand under my hand gripping his, as in "Act like you like the baby, dang it!"):



We lasted less than an hour.

*He has lots of friends from his graduating class. Unfortunately, none of them came, except Jason, with whom we went and spent a very awkward half hour or so drinking gin and tonics (well, I watched them drink gin and tonics) and looking around the room at the small percentage of Justin's class that showed up, who were apparently (not like I'd know) the last people he would have picked to see again. So after hors d'ouevres (I have no idea to spell that, and frankly if France can't come up with a reasonable language, I don't really care if I'm butchering it), which for some reason involved meatballs but no forks, we bailed and went out to dinner on our own. I kind of wanted to stick it out for the prime rib (I have been instructed to eat more red meat due to mild pregnancy-related anemia), but neither Justin nor Jason wanted to stay, and it wasn't my extremely awkward high school reunion, so we left and had dinner downtown instead.

See you all on Facebook, I guess. It's too weird in person. You know?