Space Odyssey

For those of you who keep up with this blog, and there may not be any of you left, which is understandable since I'm nothing more than a pocketful of broken promises when it comes to updating this thing, you may have noticed comments 8 and 9 from the last post.

So. Let's get down to it:

Yes, I DID get married this weekend. Yes, there WAS a guy named Mar-C-Q involved, and yes, pigeons played a prominent role in the whole ordeal.

I married a lovely man named Dan (remember a post or two ago when I said I met the man I was going to marry? It's that guy.). We got engaged on Monday night and married on Saturday afternoon at my friend Sarah's house. In spite of my 3-day notice, my parents and sister were able to make it up here to Mpls. There were 15 of us present, including me, Dan, 5 of our family members, 8 friends, and two toddlers who served as flower girls, sort of, in the sense that they occasionally threw some flowers on the ground before stopping halfway down the makeshift aisle and then running into the kitchen to play with their tiny toy kitchen. Not. Interested.

The dinner was potluck, the champagne was plentiful, the company was delightful, good friends wrote a gorgeous poem for us in which they recommended we love like pigeons do, and we were married by a guy (the aforementioned Marcq) who ended the ceremony with a "Shazaam!" It was perfect.

And then, because Go Big or Go Home is how we roll, we stayed here for the evening. Heavenly.

Once I have pictures I will post a few. For now, though, I assure you: THIS IS NOT AN APRIL FOOL'S DAY JOKE (aside from the rather obvious fact that we're still in the month of March, I can see how one would think that). I'm married! I'm happy! I'm now Erin Kottke! My new initials are EEK!

It's been a weekend of exclamation points.

Next:

My favorite albums of 2006, pictures from my visit home, and so very much more. Stay tuned.

Merry Christmas, bitches!

I'm here in Springfield, IL, where I have access to high-speed internet. I have it at my home in Minneapolis, too--wireless, even!--but I have yet to buy a wireless card or whatever I need to get my PC tuned in. Danny tells me that all I need to get is something called a "dongle." I'm pretty sure he's trying to get me to buy something that will surely make me a woman of ill repute. Even moreso than I already am.

Another thing Danny tells me is that I need to update this blog. So here I am, doing just that. I'm not writing much to speak of at the moment, but I plan on doing several more updates over the next couple of days that I am home.

For now, though, I have to get ready for a Tuttle Family Tradition (aside from the Airing of Grievances--and there are loads this year--and the Feats of Strength--which already happened a couple of days ago when my adonis-of-a-19-year-old cousin nearly ripped my leg off and left me with a monster bruise on my bicep), which is to go see a movie on Christmas day. This started several years ago with "The Talented Mr. Ripley," which left all of us kind of creeped out and a bit unsettled. The scene where Jude Law gets beat to pieces with an oar is a hard one to shake from memory. So this year I suggested we go for "The Good Shepard" to bring the tradition to a new level "The Tuttle's Matt Damon Christmas Day Tradition." Instead we're going to see "A Night at the Museum."

I'm a bit out of practice on the blogging front--nothing juicy here, folks. But I assure you, as I continue to post, all the junk and dregs from my brain will come spilling out. Mostly about how I met the man I'm going to marry.

Oooh!! You're waiting with bated breath, I can tell.

Merry Christmas. This year I got you a dick in a box. Or maybe you'd prefer the home edition. Not impressed? Neither is this vision in denim who clearly has aspirations to be an Andy Rooney-turned-SNL-writer.

HE'S BEEN FOUND!!!

And alive, even!

He was found on the highway. Now he's in Wisconsin.

Story coming soon. I've never been so happy in all of my life.

For those of you in the Twin Cities:

Please help. Yesterday my roommate's friend left the back gate open, and Tuffy bolted. I'm going batshit insane trying to find him. Click here for the craigslist post.

I've fliered the neighborhood, persuaded Mary Lucia of the Current to make announcements during her show today (after 3), alerted all of the animal shelters, etc.

One person saw him on the railroad tracks yesterday, near my house. I'm pretty sure he's off on a Stand by Me type adventure, or maybe it's like Milo and Otis and he's going to come home with tiny Tuffbots in tow. Except that he's fixed, so maybe he's just out there going through the motions. Or joining a gang.

In any case, let me know if you see him. My heart is breaking.



(He was Air Bud for Halloween)

Dear Dan,

Please don't judge me based on my archived blog entries.

love
erin

p.s. real update coming soon.

D.C.-ya later!

I think I stole that subject from Mark. But that's not important. What is important is this:

I'm in Our Nation's Capitol!

I am here to visit Kate and Hank (Adam). It has been 11 months since I last saw the former, and a year and a half since I last saw the latter. That's a long time to have a missing piece, and I blame my sometimes gloomy disposition on withdrawl symptoms post-visits. But for now, I am revelling in the reunion and fully intend to spend most of my time here quoting things with Kate at Adam, squealing to the point of hoarseness, and generally being in L-U-V.

I have all sorts of things to write about, but for now I must gussy myself up before Hank gets home (swear I'm not trying to seduce him, Kate, regardless of what I may or may not have said about jumping out from behind a doorway and serenading him to the sweet, sweet sound of "I'll Make Love to You" when he gets home). We are going for sushi tonight with some of Kate's "friends," so it's important that I look pretty and smell nice. It's just something I have to do.

In the interest of beating a dead horse, here is the other list I wrote at the same time as the one from the last post

**note** The breakup was almost 3-months ago. I post the lists not out of whiny-pining-ness or self-pity, but because I like them and because I think you might like them, too. I'll post about something current once I get settled into my new house.

TEXT MESSAGES I SENT SHAWN THE MORNING AFTER WE BROKE UP AND THE TWO AND A HALF WEEKS FOLLOWING SAID BREAKUP

• Hey shawn-o. Will you give me a call when you get up? Won’t take long, i promise.
• I still feel bad about calling you an emotional mongoloid. That was way out of line, and poorly worded. I’m sorry.
• Seriously. I feel terrible about what i said. Please let me know that it’s ok, and then i’ll shutup
• I hope you and dennis had a lovely brokeback day on the water.
• Just so I can sleep easier, will you let me know if you read the letter or not? I’m so bad at not talking to you…damn.
• Just back from Low and part of Whisper in the Noise…I hope you got to go; both were great. Sleep well.
• If you want to hang out for a bit tomorrow, and it’s okay if you don’t, give me a call. I have a brilliant idea…but not willpower, it seems.
• P.S. I promise I won’t be mean and I won’t cry. I’ll be the very model of a good friend, and not dramatic, even.
• Just got to cold, cold Spyhouse [coffeeshop]. Feel free to come read. Hope yr run was swell!
• Call me if you want to go to the LitPAC fundraiser tonight. It’s a good cause, and Sarah has requested yr presence.
• If the show falls through, you should come get drunk with me so I feel less pathetic. Or so you can have company who will make you watch bad movies. Whatevs.

TEXT MESSAGES RECEIVED FROM SHAWN DURING THE SAME TIME FRAME

• Thank you for your text. I was at Low too.
••••••••••••••••••••
Ouch. I was kind of a blind idiot, eh? Oh well. Bygones.

Next: J.Christ, Fill the Fitzgerald '06, and a return to a fan letter from my youth.