I Feel Like Boston Clam Chowda in a SF Sourdough Bread Bowl

Love stampSitting in Logan Airport yesterday, waiting for my rocket/airplane to come, I decided what I want to be when I (refuse to) grow up. I want to become a professional wedding guest. I think it would suit me.

I can chat up those older relatives who sit uncomfortably not knowing what to do when all the young people are gyrating on the dance floor. I’ll always make sure everyone gets dessert. And toward the end of the evening I’ll go around and use up any of the disposable cameras that haven’t been finished off. In my favor, the food is plentiful and tasty, I get to dress up, and there’s always a cute, young bartender or waiter to flirt with.

My first move in setting up this business would be to hire my friend, Paulo, as my partner. At the end of Kerry and Sean’s wedding on Saturday, the band thanked him for putting on such a great show and keeping the dance floor jumping. Who gets thanked by the band? He’s a wild man, and everyone loved him for it.

The wedding was perfect, just as comfy/casual and unpretentious/elegant and perky/cute as I would expect from Sean and Kerry.

The best bits:

  • Kerry’s vows, which included the sentiment that she loves Sean “because he can do math in his head”.
  • The handmade truffles, many of which disappeared before dinner was ever served.
  • Hitting the Phoenix Landing after the wedding to continue the dancing. It’s not a swanky place, more of a post-college dive, but we all arrived in full wedding gear, including the bride and groom. I’ve never seen two people get so many free drinks before.

The bits that could have used tweaking (if I ran the world):

  • There was no Jason Mraz medley. I would have included one pre-ceremony, another during dinner, and a third to close out the evening.
  • Fewer vegetables, more desserts, including my much-dreamed about chocolate buffet.
  • Oooh! Even better, I would incorporate Jason Mraz into the chocolate buffet with a chocolate Mraz statue to sort of watch over the festivities. You have your ice-sculpted doves or Virgin Mary, I’ll have my Guittard Prophet.

See, this is why the Mrazian Order of the Curbside is such a great religion: you can pick and choose how you want to incorporate it into your day-to-day life, including ceremonies and events. In an era of dim sum spirituality where you can pick and choose what feels right for you, Jason Mraz can be your tasty pork dumpling of love and acceptance.

This is how I write when I’m hungry.

In the end, to answer my own question from last week, I can go home away from home again. Boston was cold and wet and I loved every block of it. It was reassuring to see how little has changed, and how much I still love everyone there, even if they are all doing just fine without me. So I guess I can stay in California for now, but also know that my Boston family is always glad to have me back.

Halfway home and I’m still out on my own,
Lisa

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One response to “I Feel Like Boston Clam Chowda in a SF Sourdough Bread Bowl

  • Kerry

    We’re back! Thanks for coming out (ha. like you wouldn’t!) I’m glad you had a good time in Boston and at the wedding! Sorry there weren’t more desserts, but I couldn’t steal your idea. One day, when Mraz proposes to you, you’ll be the one with the dessert buffet wedding. 🙂

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