In the wee hours of Saturday morning, I finally find myself in Houston, Texas, for Olech's wedding. It was a grueling night of travel. My plane was significantly late, and the three hour trip seemed like ten. Still, I was more fortunate than Mike. His plane, leaving out of Atlanta, kept getting later, and later, and later, until they finally canceled the flight. Unfortunately, the next flight (and I find this VERY hard to believe!) doesn't leave until 8pm on Saturday, which means that Mike misses the wedding. That really stinks.
As for me, I am finally in my hotel room, ready for bed. The hotel, The Inn at the Ballpark, is pretty swank! Marble bathroom, lots of towels, huge bed, very nice furniture, and free Internet. What more could you ask for? How about a fitness center and breakfast in bed? Got it. I know Barry likes to grade hotels, so let it be known that this one is an A+. At least the night's not a total loss. (For me anyway.)
Tomorrow is Olech and Lindsay's wedding. Olech is my youngest first cousin. Ten years my junior, he's finally tying the knot. I haven't met Lindsay, but everybody loves her, so that's good enough for me.
Of course, Mike and I had planned to wear kilts at the wedding. (For Tartan Day weekend, of course.) So, I arrived with two kilts and all the necessary accessories. I guess now I get to choose between the two which to wear. It won't be as fun going alone. In conservative Houston, Texas, they're about as "worldly" as, well, Larry the Cable Guy. It would have been nice to have my brother in solidarity with me when I go waltzing into the church wearing a "skirt."
Ah well, time for bed.