Wedding Day

This photo of Eric and me from, I believe, my wedding day (sent by Best Man Roger). That said, none of us (Eric, Roger) can remember the exact where or when or why I am in a tuxedo and Eric black Converse All-Stars. A mystery, no doubt. What I do recall from that day: while Sonnet with Catherine doing her preparation, Roger meant to perfume and prime me at the barbershop. Instead, the three of us went to a Chinese on Russian Hill then took a two-hour nap before the 5PM kick-off. I am still earning that one back, oh boy.

I arrive at JFK without incident, though the enhanced searches at Heathrow force me to discard a bottle of expensive after-shave lotion. My 200ml over the allowable 120ml. I note that my bottle half full, or less than 120ml. And this earns the attention of three "security specialists," all Indian, who finally agree it is not the lotion but the container size that matters. It takes them ten minutes to reach this conclusion. In fairness, the cream pink and does look suspicious and my offer to "eat some" did not help.

Katie and I go to her local Frenchie and sit at the bar drinking beer and eating steak and watching the NFC Championship game. The Saints win in over-time.