–We will wear our wedding shoes around the house and in the garden and we will wear them with jersey shorts, undershirts, and, later, naked, I hope.
–I will throw away apparent trash but which is, in fact, key to our future. Sorry.
–The house will be scrubbed, mopped, etc., while you linger upstairs with Mad Men and craftwork. I will curse your hand-maid bouquets, but not aloud. Alas, you are now reading about this curse. Forgive me again. It was a brief, one-time thing, and I probably shouldn’t have posted this on the internet.
–The jazz festival will disappoint us both, but mostly you, because you want to like jazz more than you do, yet this is the best on offer. I promise that Sonny Rollins was better live in the 60s and 70s, but how would I know?
–The zoo will be hot, but I will go there and see the butterflies you like and dream of thank you sex to come. Thank you.
–My mother will say she is coming down early, “she” meaning my entire family, meaning we’ll have to entertain them that much longer and that much sooner. Our jaws will be sore with teeth-gritting, and each of us will say, at many different times, “I’m not going to make it.” We will.
–Your parents will find something else that needs to be done right away, right now, or everything will collapse, and you’ll resign yourself to do it, but don’t. I’ll do it, and if it doesn’t get done everything will not collapse. Maybe the world economy will go down, sure, but who cares about that?
–A flower girl or ring bearer will contract tuberculosis, meaning some chunk of extended family isn’t coming because they’re in a TB ward, and we’ll ask something like “What do you mean TB? It’s 2012.” But there it is. We will have no need to worry, since we have two other flower girls and at least one ring bearer in reserve.
–One of our least wanted invitees who didn’t RSVP and made us happy with his decision will reverse himself and attend. His date will vomit on your mother. I will light him on fire, and it’ll be okay.
–A supervisor will tell you that she needs that report yesterday, which is impossible, and you will say so. It will be a shiny moment of triumph in which you will think of me and think “love me, motherfucker,” and I will. Or I will be in that conversation with the supervisor, etc.
–The annular eclipse will occur. We will think about it afterwards.
–On Memorial Day we will eat and drink a great deal. If we remember anything, it will be selfish remembering, having to do only with us.
–We will serenade each other with love songs of the 80s. Belinda Carlisle will be featured.
–We will remain calm, mostly. It helps to know that we are the hottest people in world history.
*though not necessarily in the precise form described.
marcuspactor 