Friday, July 11

i drive to omaha for the stateside iteration of megan and levi's wedding

~1:30am: A generic chain motel in York. By the pool in the chlorine stench, Sega's Outrun and a Golden Tee '97 cabinet. A snack machine which only accepts quarters. Instant nostalgia, stale Oreos.

~7:30am: Lincoln. Park on P street, walk from the Coffee House (pause to drink coffee, buy logoed mug as some kind of gesture to now-dead routines and patterns) up through campus. Feel the necessary moment of consuming emptiness and dislocation, walk back to the car and head for the Interstate.

Presently: Chain bagel joint at the intersection of 40th & Dodge in Omaha. Too fucking exhausted to write.

Weddings are always like this to some greater or lesser degree. The past shuffle-stumbling into the present.


p1k3 / 2008 / 7 / 11