WARMING UP

A lot has happened since we last danced, blog, but I want to focus on writing. So here's a brief list of all that happened:

- Driving

- Girlfriend

- Philadelphia

- Golf

- 4th of July

- Bachelor's Party

- Wedding

- Grandma's 80th Birthday

- Puppy Visit

- Driving

- Girlfriend Leaving

- Golf

There. That's about it. All of it was good.

Now, writing.

Didn't do any. That list is devoid of it.

It's my turn for a deadline on the Secret Project, and I'll be working on that next. Blog is first, blog is warm up. Then after the SP, I'll move on to the script that has been hell of neglected by me, and I'll try and take some weight off Mike's shoulders. At least I've read what he's written. That's a start.

Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. I lied. I did do a bit of writing while I was gone, and it ties into what I want to pontificate on tonight. I wrote a speech, for the wedding, as one of the best men.

Public speaking is horrifying. I was talking to my cousin at my Gma's birthday party and he threw out a staggering statistic that more people think that public speaking is scarier than death than the other way around. People would rather die than have to speak in front of people. I blame technology... and that speaking in front of people is a literal evil.

I knew I had wanted to talk about us as friends, our group, instead of focus specifically on Skip and Emily. This was a risk, and the internet told me not to do this. It was their day, after all, and I should be focused on them. I just really wanted to get to the point of how much the groom's side of the wedding party loved Skip, and that even after everything we've been through, that it didn't mean shit in the face of us still being friends like we used to be. In a way, reassuring him that nothing was really going to change now that he's married.

This, my friends, is the UNEDITED, not-note card version of the speech that I wrote. A lot of it was kept in, but I did cut stuff out and reword things. I will try to remember and mark what I changed:

Hi there – sorry to interrupt any scintillating conversations that might have been going on, but I’ve been told a few speeches are in order, and that because I’m a best man I’m require—I mean--- lucky enough to take part.

Many of you don’t know me I’m sure, my name’s Brian, and I’ve known Skip for about 11 years. I’ve known Emily for much less, having met her only a few times because of distances and school, and that’s probably why I wasn’t chosen to be a maid of honor as well.

I wasn’t quite sure how to go about writing a wedding toast, so probably like every single other person giving a speech tonight, I googled it. All the websites claimed that I should walk the fine line between being delightfully charming and intensely funny, both things I probably have never been, regardless of what you’ve been told.

[If you look at this table of groomsmen and the groom, you will see a group of friends that has not changed at all in the decade we’ve known each other, no matter where in the country we have been hiding this whole time. I’ve always been told that I’m not supposed to talk about the bachelor party after it has been completed, but we are a different breed of friends, and there was a moment that I’d like to recall that sums up my point.] Taken out. Thought it was redundant.

Kyle, the other Best Man, began to tell me how much he loves how we as a group can just pick right back up where we left off. That’s it’s like we never went our separate ways. [I took this in for a moment and decided, yes, what with all the mountain dew and Super Mario Brothers we were playing it was as if this was just a normal weekend in 8^th grade.] Changed and reworded and reinserted later in the speech.

[And while writing this and recalling what Kyle had said, I was very pleased that I FINALLY had a segway into being able to talk about the glory days of middle school.] Reworded. We were all locked into the three year “smart kid” classes together, and we all had our categories. Isaac always seemed to have money, Jason could remember and quote Algebra books, I think, Brent read more books than were published those three years, and I was your average “heartthrob.” Skip, now Skip was the quiet one. [The doodler.] Kept his trapper keeper to himself and worked on his art. We cornered every kind of personality category in our group. We were the unstoppable Justice League of dance-going, button up shirt-wearing, afraid to ask girls to dance, cologne wearing boys and we ruled that school in eighth grade. Who were we to guess then that we’d conquer those fears of girls and be getting married someday. [Who would have guessed that that quiet artist of us would be the first to get on that train to marriage town?] Removed completely, and I regret it.

And then in 9^th grade, everything changed. Brent was the first to go. He moved on to St. Pete’s here in Mansfield, paving the way for Skip to meet Emily a few years down the road. I moved shortly after Brent. It wasn’t great, but it taught us early on how to deal with what would come in college anyway, and it made us mature and grow and realize that we had a different form of friendship, and that every time we would be together it very well could be just like 8^th grade all over again. Plus, like I said, it led to Skip meeting Emily.

Skip: I am, we are, honored to be here in your wedding as your friends and your family. Just because I didn’t bring up anything embarrassing about you tonight doesn’t mean I won’t later on. Watch yourself.

Emily: Take care of our dear friend when we’re not around. We know he will be the very best husband he can.

Please raise your glasses:

To this beautiful wedding and the parents who provided it and worked to raise the two wonderful and beautiful people married tonight.

And to Skip and Emily, I’m so honored to know you both. And I know I speak for the whole room when I say we wish you all the happiness and luck in the world. Congratulations.

I was told by being singled out by some people a few time afterwards that it was good. No, no just by my Girlfriend or my Dad. And that was a bizarre feeling for me. I'll tell you why it was weird and a shock to hear that I had done well: The night before, I started to panic. I thought that everything I had written was lame and that my jokes sucked The Big One. I was afraid that I hadn't talked about Skip enough, let alone Emily. But I think that the main reason I was worried was that it was the first time outside of school that I had to creatively write something specifically to be read aloud.

Now, I guess everything should probably sound decent read aloud if it's good, but I hadn't ever thought of that when writing short stories and the such (other than dialogue). How was I to cue myself to read it a certain way, what way did I want to read it? Would I sound stupid? Is the language pretty or just plain stupid?

Not only that, but I'm not even remotely the most confident when it comes to things that I've written that aren't to be read aloud. Let alone confident in front of a hundred people. Strangers. Their eyes fixated on me, ready to stab my neck and face if I say something that falls flat. Those horrible, judging people. *shudder*

By the time I was transferring and doing last minute panic-induced editing to note cards, it was too late to write a new, less lame speech in my mind. I couldn't wing it, that would have been bad for me. No, I had to say, "Oh well" and be aware of the cards burning in my jacket pocket the whole day. There wasn't anything I told myself to be reassuring. No "it'll be okay" or "they don't know you, so fuck them and their thoughts" or "come on dude, 'marriage town' will absolutely kill." I just had to go through with it. And hey, it didn't turn out so bad. People laughed where I wanted them to, I wasn't shaking very noticeably, and I got through it. Everyone liked it, and it was a very cool feeling...

... a feeling that will be forgotten and replaced with fear the next time I have to publicly speak again, I'm sure.

Okay. Warm up complete. Onto the SECRET PROJECT OF INFINITE COOL AND GENIUS.