Small town wonder.

This weekend I went to the wedding of a friend of a friend. I feel like significant things happened that I want to talk about and yet I've started this entry about three times and have no idea what I want to talk about.

Should I talk about the dresses and the way people (bridal party and guests) were dressed? But I don't want to do that because it was an important day for two people and to them, everything was wonderful, just the way they wanted it to be. I'm uncomfortable with the snark.

Should I talk about the Very, Very Religious Hotel/Camp we stayed at? With icons of Jesus on the wall, but no teevee and pillows that smelled of old people and a policy where you had to pay extra for a key to your room? No. It was fine. We maybe spent seven hours in it and it served its purpose.

Should I talk about the bar with the myriad stuffed animals, and by that I mean an actual elephant head, the actual front half of a giraffe, a leopard cub and its mama, and many, many other disturbing examples of taxidermy? No. That was pretty amusing even if I was afraid to be left alone with the intense creepiness of it.

Should I talk about Old and Really Old? Two men who now think "shooting cows with Prince" means "going to a wedding"? Maybe. That's kind of interesting actually.

Should I talk about the man in a baseball cap and Rolling Rock shirt, who was both a firefighter and a chiropractor (allegedly), who rubbed my arm and told me stories about town happenings and offered himself as an escort to another rowdy bar? The one who C wanted to frisk against her car and the one I've thought about at odd times? Why? I have no idea. I'm not even sure what he looked like (much, much alcohol went into the making of this weekend). But his fingers were soft, he made me laugh and he thinks my name is not one that it actually is.

Should I talk about him?

I think I may keep that to myself.

buh! (aka "the most wonderful place in the world")

For the past 2 weeks or so, I have been mostly alone. Not in the “I am an island, let me float” sort of way but in the “everyone at university is on vacation. I have no one to talk to” sort of way. Yesterday, this changed as I went to an event where there were (gasp!) more than 12 people. It was an evening spent playing scrabble in a pub. I knew the organiser and a few other people but I didn't know the people I was sat next to.

It was therefore rather disconcerting to be on the end of a rather tough Q&A session from the person who was sat next to me. I was asked what I did, why I did what I did, why I was not interested in the political primary (because I don't vote and was waiting for the Daily Show to tell me all about it later), what the US rules for choosing a President are (umm...thanks), what are the rules in my country and a long, insistent (and repeated) question about what my favourite place in the world is (and why).

This last question turned into a long harangue about how I was not passionate and was “very reserved” because I answered that there wasn't anywhere that I'd been that I'd not liked. Well, there hasn't been. Person told me I “should have feelings one way or another”. I kept saying, “well, saying I like most places is a feeling”. Then, I was asked “so why are you here then? In the United States?” Fair enough but I hadn't actually expected to be grilled on my reasons for being in the United States when all I had in mind was a few drinks, scrabble and listening to people's stories about what they were up to. I was (thankfully) rescued when one of the people I knew showed up (I may have almost fallen on their neck and wept with joy in reaction )

My question is: When did we decide that “oh, it's all right” as a response to a question was not enough and, instead, one has to write poems praising (with passion!) or detesting places (and things). Just saying, “oh, it's okay” or “not too bad” seems inadequate and feelings are asked for. As a frequent "barfly" (as Fanny calls it), I like listening to people's tales about what they've done and where they've been but only if they are keen on chatting. And, if they say "oh, I like it here", I think "well, of course" and move on. It's also a reciprocal exchange, not a grilling.

At the pub I usually go to watch football, most of the patrons are from overseas. We mostly ignore each other (except when cursing various teams or criticising the ref), we grunt and nod if we catch each other's eyes and we watch the matches. There's a lot of cursing and yelling but no Q&A session or questions about why we are in the USA. It's the perfect social activity for me, I reckon. (I answered, "why not?" in case yous are interested )