God, I’m behind on my updates. I’m in Denver now, visiting my family and old school friends, and I have a bunch of weird stories already. But I want to wrap up the wedding stuff before I get to Denver stuff. (Note: due to continuing iphoto frustrations, I will be unable to include photos in this entry. Sorry! I’ll post some when I get back to Portland.)
When I signed off last week, I had just finished an amazing burrito at Frontier. Let me re-emphasize how effing good that burrito was. So. Effing. Good. Mmmmm….. Anyway. After lunch I went to the Hacienda where the wedding was going to take place. I had been assinged a vague job by John Shoe, the groom, that required me to be there a few hours early. At first I thought it was a B-list guest job. I was supposed to follow the photographer around and make sure she got all the shots they wanted- including lots of “candid” shots. When John first sent me the email asking me to do this job, I thought he meant for me to follow her around the reception, which would have been no fun. Did he not want an A-list friend to have to miss the dancing and eating? Is that why he picked me? Also, he kept emphasizing that I am such a good “shmoozer,” which isn’t really a compliment in my book.
So I get to the hacienca, and immediately realize that I am definitely not a B-lister. Everyone in both John and Aubrey’s families seem to know who I am as soon as I walk in. They keep coming up and thanking me for helping, and telling me how special I am to John and Aubrey, and how touched they all are that I flew all the way from Portland for the wedding. I open the program for the wedding, and see my name in the “Thank you to..” section. Wow. I am honored and embarassed that I didn’t get it at first.
There was still a good hour before photos, so I hung out in the bridal suite with John and the groomsmen. I straightened collars and pinned on butineers. John was endearingly nervous, so the ushers and I made little jokes and ran needless errands to put him more at ease. It was so special to be in that room. The men drank scotch and I drank Pepsi, and there was so much love all around.
Then the photographer arrived, and I held the bouquet and a list of family and friends that were to be included in the photos. I made sure that the photographer (who looked and talked exactly like Natasha Lyon) got every shot, even though she was a pro and didn’t really need me. But by then I knew that my job was really just to be there with love and support. See, John is like a brother to me. We went to high school together, and he once (metaphorically) saved my life. I have spent the six or seven years since then trying to make it up to him. His brother Galen is also like my brother, and his mom is very dear to me as well. It felt so good to be there.
After photos the guests arrived, and the ceremony began. It was short and beautiful. John and Aubrey wrote their own vows, and the power and sincerity of their words was stirring. Just as they were pronounced husband and wife, a great gust of wind swept through the hacienda, swirling around them and us, the witnesses. It was like the Universe blessing their union. Everyone commented on it afterwards.
The reception was in a different courtyard in the hacienda. We ate enchiladas and tamales and drank lots o’ wine. I sat with my dearest Denver friends. We told lots of G-rated animal jokes (my favorites!) and waxed nostalgic about the old days. When it was toast time I was warmly tipsy, and thus spontaniously inspired to make a toast of my own. (There were a handful of other random toasters- I wasn’t being totally weird.) Anyway, I got up and in my goofy I-get-embarassed-talking-to-a-big-group-of-grown-ups way, I spoke about John and my sisterly protectiveness. I recalled the tone of his voice when he first described Aubrey to me, the way he recorded every moment of one Christmas visit into a dictaphone to send to her in England, so she could share the good times. And I described meeting her for the first time, and Joey’s wedding a couple years ago. I saw how she looked after John, how they loved each other. I pulled him aside that night and told him he would be next. Then I addressed Aubrey, thanking her for being such a good partner to John, giving her my blessing, and entrusting to her the job of protecting my dear friend’s heart. Without reservation, and with all my love I blessed their union, and when I raised my glass everyone was crying! I was psyched. Apparently three glasses of white wine turns Willow into a toast master! I’ll have to remember that for Liz’s wedding next month!
After food there was dancing. Two great bands played (I cannot remember their names- thanks a lot, wine!) There was a swimming pool between the bands and the dance floor, and as the night wore on, more and more people ended up in the pool. Some of us had brought our suits, some swam in their undies. John and Aubrey joined us once all the relatives had retired, and we all floated and paddled under the stars.
So that’s about it. A few leftover bits:
~Somewhere between dancing and swimming I vomited in the toilet of the bridal suite. Gross, I know. But there was no mess, I swear!
~Sometime after the wedding, back at HoJo’s I ended up kissing an old crush in a stairwell. Weddings make you do crazy things!
~Somehow between swimming and heading back to HoJo’s I realized I had left my purse in the Bridal Suite, where the bride and groom were presumably consummating their marriage. The helpful Maid of Honor banged on their door a few times, but they didn’t answer. The next morning they claimed not to have heard! (They did notice my purse later and put it in a common area for me in case I came back for it. So nice. So embarassing.)
I love weddings, I love John and Aubrey, I love New Mexican food. The end.

Ok. I really want to write about the wedding, because it was wonderful. But I need to give some updates/details first:
~I went to the computer store yesterday. My iphoto library is indeed lost. I could pay them $45 to do a disk rescue, but the chances of finding them are slim. Any input, apple friends?
~AJ called me just after I posted last night, and it was way less emo. I feel very fortunate.
~I am spending the week doing elementary school math in the mornings, and elementary PE and Health in the afternoons. Yes, I played tag today. Yes, I used pattern blocks and tanagrams. Yes I examined the “abstinance only” benchmarks for sexual education that our good friend George W initiated. Grad school is fun.
Okay. The wedding. On Thursday evening I flew to Denver. Friday morning my mom and I did a power shoe shop at Ross and DSW before meeting up with my dear dear friend Heather and her mom, Betsy. Heather had flown in from Massachusettes a few days before. I love her. After a quick moms and daughters visit, my mom went home, and Heather, Betsy and I grabbed some Bowie, Springsteen, Joni, and Leonard Coen, and hit the road for New Mexico. The drive was beautiful. Southern Colorado/Northern New Mexico may be my favorite landscape in America. The colors are so rich, and the mountains and mesas make an incredible frame for the sagey, earthy, high desert plains. Pueblo, Colorado: rad. Trinidad, Colorado (aka the sex change capitol of the world): rad. Raton, Las Vegas, and Santa Fe, New Mexico: rad. Albequerque: sorta weird. I’ll get to that later.

We stopped in Santa Fe for dinner. Our friend Joey met us for dinner at his favorite new Mexican restaurant. I had one enchilada and one tosdada, both with amazing red chile. One of the many great things about Northern New Mexican food is that they generally prepare both green and red chile vegetarian, and cook their beans without pork fat. For a lifetime vegetarian who loves Mexican food, this equals heaven.
After dinner we headed for Albequerque with happy bellies. All of the guests booked rooms at the Howard Johnson’s, which reminded me of my grandparents in a good way. We ran into some high school friends in the parking lot, and Heather and I went to their room for a few hours of nostalgia and catchup. Galen, Micah, Brion and Alli are really fun. I only get to see them at Christmas these days, so a night spent holed up and the HoJo’s felt fucking great. I made Galen tell the Funniest Story Ever (which I make him tell every time I see him even though I know it by heart) about the time he and Andre dumped a cooler full of soda over Eddie’s head. I almost peed my pants.
The next day we went to Target to buy wrapping paper and ended up trying on all kinds of cute clothes that I did not see at a recent visit to the Portland Target. I bought some awesome warm up pants. Then we met up with more friends at Frontier restaurant near UNM.

I cannot emphasize enough how wonderful this restaurant is. This is my burrito, filled with beans, cheese and green chili, smothered with red chili:

It was the best burrito I have ever eaten. In my life.
That’s about as far as I can get today. I’ll write more about the actual wedding tomorrow. Phew. I’m hungry now!

So, I had an amazing time at John and Aubrey’s wedding, and I want to share all of the details. In fact, I thought that this post would be a full-on wedding recap. But then tonight was really awful, and I think it would dishonor the beauty of their ritual if I wrote about it in this frame of mind.
Tonight all of my feelings of spinning out of control and being crazy came to a head with AJ, and I really hurt his feelings. I’m a jerk. I knew all along that I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship, but I liked AJ so much that I sort of jumped in anyway. I had a lot of fun with him and really enjoyed being with him. But still, with school pressures and the reverberations from my recent break-up still in the air I ended up feeling guilty and unfair all the time. There have been a couple of recent developments in the ex-boyfriend category that I’m too tired to get into right now. But the point is AJ is warm and trusting and he deserves a girl who can be fully present. And despite my best efforts to be that girl, I just can’t do it right now. I feel so mean.

Dearly beloved,
We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Willow’s iPhoto library. Last night Willow innocently opened her iPhoto account to show David and Emily pictures of her three year old twin future-roomates, only to find that her photos had disappeared. Despite attempts by Willow and guests to find the missing pictures, they remained elusive. Further investigation today by UrbanHonking techno-dudes has proved fruitless. We have no choice but to assume the worst. The photos are gone forever.
What precious memories have been lost? Well, all of the precious memories captured from February to the present. This includes the LA trip wherin Jake gifted the camera to Willow, who dutifully documented every detail of the vacation. Also birthday shots, neighborhood shots, brunch party photos, and Anacortes jams, to name just a few popular favorites. We shall all deeply mourn the passing of Willow’s iPhoto library for generations to come.
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Okay, so I parodied the situation a little, but honestly, I am really sad. I would have sacrificed any other program on my computer- iChat, iTunes, iMovie- if only I could keep but half of my iPhotos. Sigh. I will make a couple more CPR moves to see if I can bring those babies home, but I’m afraid it’s a lost cause. Why did this happen? What is the meaning?
Today I hiked all day long in Forest Park. It was wonderful. I am taking a Field Science class this week, and we basically did seven potential elementary school field trips in one day today. We went to the Audobon Society, Pittock Mansion, the Arboridum, etc., etc. It was the most exercise I’ve gotten since school started. By the end I felt sweaty and great. All of us did. Two of my colleagues and I went for gelado afterwards, and it was divine. I had a scoop of blueberry gelado, and a scoop of key lime sorbet. So so so refreshing.
One thing I forgot to mention about rollerskating: When we first arrived at the rink on Sunday, an old lady in a sparkly Skate Dancing ensemble had just wiped out. I mean, she ate shit. She hit her face on the floor, I think. There was a crowd of senior skate-dancers circled around her, trying to assess the damage. One old man was sort of yelling at her. I don’t really understand why. Anyway, you could tell she was a real seasoned Skate Dancer, and she felt really embarrassed. I saw her wipe away tears. But later she was back on the rink in civilian clothes, and I admired her committment. What a gal.
Sorry my spelling was so awful tonight. I am a tiny bit drunk, thanks to Steve and his CD assembly line party. Fun times!

This weekend I went to a junk shop with Rebecca and her friends Travis and Jesse Jackson(!). There was, on a shelf, the most beautiful black concertina with red detailing. For those of you who don’t know, a concertina is a small instrument in the accordian family. A squeezebox, if you will. I have wanted to learn how to play for oh, I don’t know, ten years or so. Ever since my dad and I went to Ireland together when I was in high school and heard the rich and mournful sounds that drifted from the trad pubs in County Cork. There was a time when my dad checked out the pawn shops and thrift stores in his travels, hoping to find one for me for a birthday or Christmas. After a few years he gave up, and we both sort of forgot. But then on Saturday it all came back to me.
I took the little concertina off the dusty shelf and held it in my hands. It was so light! I tried to play it, and it was remarkably easy. The man behind the counter came around and showed me how to play a very simple melody- mmm bum bum, mmm bum bum, and I could do it! Granted my rhythm was crap, but I’m sure I could get better, right? I was in love. I am still in love. I think about the black box all the time. It cost $300. I do not have $300. It makes no sense for me to buy an instrument that Ido not know how to play for $300. My rent is $350, for heaven’s sake! But… I love it. I think that, unlike my two neglected guitars, I would actually learn how to play it. It feels really natural in my hands. When I move in with Will and Lisa, we could start a wonderful house band! Lisa on harp, Willow on concertina, Will on drums. AJ might get in on the action too with some keyboards. Can you think of a cuter band? I can not.
What should I do, dear readers? Should I spend money I don’t have (oh holy credit card), or just let it go, and buy one someday when I actually have a job? Or should I simply live in Indecision Land until someone else buys it? Should I try to haggle with the shop guy? If so, what is a good price for a concertina? Help!

This last week or so has been the Age of the Internet Friend for me. James and Sonny, my Ultimate Blogger friends, have suddenly become more available on iChat. It’s been really nice to “talk” with them. James is back in Michigan, working on his website and moving in with buddies. Sonny is finally (thankfully) back from Afghanistan, where he was serving with the Army (Reserves?) for last two years. I have been unreasonably worried about Sonny since I started reading his blog. Even though I’ve never met him in person, and really I only know him through his blog and the comments he leaves on other blogs I read, I am still quite fond of him. He is the first person I have ever known that has been in a war (well, of my generation anyway). That kind of service and patriotism is amazing to me, and I respect him an awful lot. I am so relieved that he is safely back. We iChatted a few days ago and it was really nice.
Speaking of internet friends, David Galli is my newest internet friend. We have a really nice email correspondence going on, even though we live less than a mile apart. I have been a fan of his blog for a while now, so it’s sort of a thrill to be his pen pal. Also our characters (I can’t think of a better word here, though I’m sure there is one. Natures? Personalities?) are eerily similar. It’s really neat that we’ve become sort of close friends through the internet. People always talk about technology like it drives a wedge between human beings, or excuses us from being social creatures. I’ve found cyber-life to be just the opposite. I feel closer to my old friends, like Liz and Lucy, and have made a few new friends, thanks to the ol’ Intranets. In fact, with my crazy college life going full-throttle, email, iChats and blogs are the only things that keep me from slipping off the radar entirely.
Anyway. In my “real” life, things have calmed down quite a bit. My homeworkless weekend was amazing. AJ and I spent a lot of nice time together. We swam in a river, roller-skated, and filmed a little movie. Oh, and we also went to Target, smoked pot, and saw Wedding Crashers (which was really funny in spite of some pretty offensive homophobic humor.) Oh, and we ALSO played pool and pinball and went out for pizza. It’s weird, ever since we decided to not be boyfriend/girlfriend, we have been acting more relationshippy. In a good way. I think the pressure of the title was really getting to me, especially coming out of such a long relationship relatively recently. Anyway, this “dating” thing seems to be working alright, so I’m going to quit analyzing it in case the magic wears off!
I’ll be better at updates this week since I have NO HOMEWORK ALL WEEK!! It’s amazing.

One of my classes is called “Art, Culture, and Creativity.” It is taught by this spacy older Jewish lady with frizzy grey hair. She wears flowered skirts and Birkenstocks with white stockings. She is really into folk art. Have a clear picture?
From time to time she has guest speakers come in to talk to us about integrated lesson plans (i.e. incorporating art into other subjects.) The thing about these guys is that they’re usually elementary teachers themselves and don’t really know how to teach adults. Some, like the storyteller, are cheesy but cool. Yesterday we had a music teacher who was absolutely fascinating.
He had white hair and a white moustache. He wore white linen pants and a loose “world music” sort of shirt, if you follow me. He kept refering to notes. He seemed very nervous. He opened by telling us a little bit about himself. He had just returned from a month spent with his elderly sightless parents. He was helping them move to Oregon from the East Coast. He said it was hard work. He had to read a lot of files to them, and describe many items. Luckily his 20 year old daughter, who is a student at U of O accompanied him to help. That was how he introduced himself to us. I was amazed. Then he led us in this weird song about a donkey that had many parts. I got to play a xylaphone (how do you spell that?) It was really fun.
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So here is an update on my relationship zone. Moose came to visit, and we had a lot of love (great talks, trips down memory road) but no lovin,’ so to speak. I know my dear readers were privy to some sweet flirting a few months back, but by the time Moose arrived we had already decided to just be mellow friends. As for AJ, my incredible levels of school stress and guilt about being a bad girlfriend led us to decide to downshift a little bit. He is no longer my “boyfriend”, but we are “dating.” This may seem like an arbitrary distinction, but it has made both of us feel so much better. We hung out last night and it was really fun, but I don’t have to stress about disappearing into my homework for the next four days and making him sad/insecure. He can go on hot dates with other hot ladies while I slave away at my Teaching Philosophy. That’s fair, right? Anyway, even if it is a nominal change I feel great about it, and now whenever I do see him I feel glad rather than guilty.
Ta da!

A list of things I (sincerely) like about my morning commute:
*The graffiti on MLK
*The lady using eye drops at the red light
*The lady in the lane next to me laughing uproariously into her cell phone
*The 3-5 songs that squeeze into my 15-20 minute drive (for the longest time I made sure Quasi’s “Happy Prole” was one of them)
*NPR (for the mornings I just can’t pick a tape)
*Returning phone calls on the drive home. Unsafe but efficient
*Driving over the Freemont Bridge- it’s so dignified
*Since I essentially have a reverse commute I am able to whiz by all the dudes stuck in the Beaverton exit lane. Suckers!
*The cool morning air rushing in my windows and waking me up
*The hot afternoon air drying the sweat on the left side of my body
*The fact that even with cell phone and radio and tapes and bad drivers to distract me, I still manage to have about 40 minutes by myself every day. The rest of my life is so hectic right now, I actually find respite in my drive time.

I’ve been having an amazing email exchange with David Galli about his apology project. As my regular readers know, I am a Chronic Confessor. In my search for Perfect Heart, for transparency and weightlessness, I feel that I must constantly unburden myself. To an obnoxious, neurotic level. I like David’s project because it recognizes that need for release- sort of like PostSecret, only more direct.
Since I have been feeling very murky and heavy lately, I feel that I must make a mass, general apology:
***I am sorry for not being an available/attentive friend, daughter, date, classmate and blogger.***
This round of classes ends on Thursday, and everything will be mellower after that.
Love and love and love to you all!

Despite the fact that my last entry was a mile long, there were some important Shipwreck moments that I left out:
*seeing multiple bald eagles
*also two shooting stars
*and that 11 year old “hot boy” named Tork who dressed better than any adult man I know and hung around the shows intimidating the other kids with phrases like, “I do not care to speak to you again.”
*oh, and that other boy, Owen, who basically ran a ferry between the floating dock and the shore at Trafton Lake. He’d get about seven adults piled on his weird homemade raft and cheerfully paddle us around. He’d call out to swimmer, “Hey, you wanna get on?”
*This old lady with an indeterminate accent who approaced Rachael and I and asked if we had “found any treasures?”
*and during Laura Viers show I sat with Flint and had a really nice talk about Anacortes and our mutual devotion to What the Heck.
George, here is a picture of the Grand Rapid dudes (standing in line for donuts):

And here is a shadow shot of Karl Blau:

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Moose is here now. There’s a Moooose, on the Loooose, full of Juuuuuice…. (That is part of a camp song. We worked at camp together oh-so-long-ago.) He is an amazing man. He has been on the road for almost a month, visiting friends, camping, going to music festivals, and doing rearch for his PhD. I am in awe of this. I love school, and I’m glad to finally feel settled in Portland, but Man! He seems so content, so present. I know that when I travel I feel that way too. He is able to let go and just let the world wash over him. And visiting so many people! It’s like he gets these little two day snapshots into people’s lives, but in such an intimate, special way. I am jealous. Moose told me I could ride shotgun the rest of the way, and I am pysically aching to do it. But it’s not the right time for me. Once I’m a teacher I’ll have my summers off to cruise and explore, and hopefully Moose’s invite will still stand.