Well, I survived my flying about with little trouble -- no lost luggage, no missed or delayed flights, and I got to miss most of the clottedness that is Richmond with slow-melting snow. My voice is in pretty much the same shape it was when I left (i.e., iffy), but then I did have a lot of relatives to catch up with, so I suppose a little abuse of the larynx is to be expected.
That said, it was still a wedding. Weddings are hard. I was very happy for Liz and her new hubby Ken, but it's just tough to keep the sorry-for-yerself tendencies from bubbling to the surface during "Ave Maria" when your sister's singing and grandma's crying and the bride is even snuffling as she's walking down the aisle with her dad. Then there was the reception, with bride-daddy dancing, and groom-mommy dancing and garter-throwing and electric sliding and banging of glasses and all that...
...Sigh. Straighten the tie, have another pull of beer.
God help the first woman brave enough to get serious with me. After weekends like this, much as I loved catching up with Mom's side of the family again, I still feel very much like damaged goods.
On the plus side, among dozens of fellow Germanic and Finnish introverts in the Great Midwest, the level of demonstrativeness was just about right. It was good to feel normal, if only for a while. Sometimes I think the entire Richmond area is trying to invade my personal space, and that I must be the weird one. It's nice to be confirmed in oneself.
Dunno. Introspection meter is pegged, and work calls. Onward!