In this novel issue, we wanted to record a small little compendium of quips and arbitrary moments of reflections from H- from her trip to Paradise Island for her cousin’s wedding. As you may all know, she has been trying her hardest to log her own esoteric reflections through teasers the lasts posts but since H- has just returned from a recent, pulverising trip, we wanted to be casual but at the same time amazed.
Be prepared, because both H- and us have a reputation for being fickle.
I don’t like chickens in the mornings if they sound suspiciously like automobiles. I tried to convince my 3 brothers to arise but those howling things beat me to it.
FM: You have a bit of a reputation with your old friend back in your home town, birth home (whatever that means for us). Apparently there were teases of dates?
H: Ah yes, it’s a cousins banter. Everyone enjoys the harmless fun.
FM: What outfit did you end up sporting on every hot humid day?
H: Let me just stop you right there. Like Titus Andromedon would say, you don’t choose the outfit. The outfit chooses you. Unfortunately, I was missing a strapless brassiere so there goes the planned. Fortunately, I packed like I’ve been an independent traveller all my life. Resourcefulness is, in some ways, a virtue.
FM: Arcade while waiting for a friend? It was one of the reunions you were most looking forward to.
H: We lost to a guy named Jason who randomly joined our race through the San Franciscan streets. Did we complain? Almost. He was in earshot.
FM: There was that eventful Sunday morning prior to your flight to the Island. You mentioned an emotional and physical roller coaster?
H: My birth town is an extremely humid place. Though I’m grateful for the double-sided fans (!!!), the reunited company, the nails done, and the hair as bright as the sun, I had to tap on my back-up energy. I felt like young Anakin Skywalker on the Boonta race. Sandy.
FM: Tell us something mischievous.
H: I ate an entire coconut by myself.
H: I just finished snorkelling and I was famished and parched and both those things were quenched thanks to the sea-side vendor. He was tanned beyond anything.
FM: Did you read the book you packed?
H: A couple of pages, at least. Flights are crushing. Have you ever felt that? It’s like hammering your skull. I really would rather be in a state of dormientes.
Gravity’s a bit of a scary concept, if not, titular in some respects. For instance, I take it for granted when I was on our dingy boat on our way to the reefs. I mean, how does a life-jacket defy it and I can’t jump more than my knee height? Perhaps I should just be a theorist.
FM: That could be fun! You visited NASA before so you’re a lot closer to that pathway than anything.
H: Ha! I’d rather be a linguist. I am far too in love with Latin and its derivatives more than anything. Which reminds me, my friend lost my ring that one hazy, dark night and he still owes me a new one.
FM: Pub-crawls are dangerous.
H: *snorts* If you’re with the wrong kind of people. Him, he was slightly dangerous (read: ring lost). At least it wasn’t my aquamarine gem stone. And my cousin was with me the whole time. In fact, she directed me and convinced me to come because it was our hoo-ha before the wedding rehearsal the next day. Thank goodness I didn’t sport a headache.
FM: The wedding…
H- takes out her laptop and places it between us. Her eyes were gleaming as she opened up the video and turned the volume up. It was a same-day edit, she said, and she was speechless upon remembering, sitting next to her partnered groomsman (her brother). We couldn’t help but tear-up along with her.
H: I’ve known the couple for the totality of their relationship. I remember the first mentions, the introductions, the shyness and awkwardness. And it blossomed to something so tangibly beautiful that its final beginning at that ceremony truly ripped me apart.
They were made to love each other.