Cake eater

The good news is, it's over.  8-year-Lisa is officially married and currently on her honeymoon (but has been on Facebook an alarming amount of time).  The wedding was lovely, the weather was perfect, the bride was radiant, the eye-makeup was gorgeous, and the groom's brother was hot (yowza!).   Something that didn't look great, however, was the cake.

The cake arrived shortly after my date and I did.  It did not look good (though we later found that it was delicious).  A friend of a friend had made it, and it was obviously homemade.  You could see streaks of the underlying chocolate cake, there were cracks between the layers, and the hand-painted edible pansies were some of the saddest things I've ever seen.  The bride was not happy (though surprisingly calm).  My date and I suggested a fix, to add real flowers.  She trusted me to get it done right so as I started stealing flowers from centerpieces, my date started cutting them.  And then we went to work.  We kept the pansies for filler and structural support, while adding real flowers to cover them up as much as possible.  It was really fun.  I love having to being creative under pressure! We now believe that as a team, we would make great cake decorators (minus the whole icing thing).  My date said things like "Put this pink one here and it will really pop against this purple."  Needless to say, comments like this didn't really convince me he was straight.  Nor did our very long conversation about Glee on our way there.

The wedding was fun but it wasn't a wild party.  The family started stacking up chairs within a few hours, so we were back to Boston by dinner.  We were absolutely exhausted after getting up so early, so we had dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed by 10.  That's when things got weird.  My wedding date was...on me all night.  Not on me, but....up against me all night.  I'm not saying he tried anything, but I have a big bed.  Violet slept in it with me for a week without ever touching me (except that one time when I hit her in the face) yet this guy couldn't seem to do anything but crowd me.   I was exhausted but I couldn't sleep.  I could feel him breathing on my neck.   In the morning, he was giving me crap for being a bed hog.  Me!?  Then he said how well he slept and how comfortable my bed is, all while playing with my hair.  What the fuck is going on?!

Much of this continued for the rest of a lazy Sunday.  We read in the park, we napped, we watched a movie all while continuing this weird closeness.  It wasn't sexual, it was just cozy.  Maybe he was just craving some human interaction?  I don't know.  But it was weird.  Little brother characters aren't supposed to be so touchy.