Last Friday I wrote an 8-page paper in one frenzied sitting, fired it off to my professor and then embarked on the trip with Matt to attend my cousin's wedding in Suwanee, Tennessee. My goal was to leave by 1pm; I didn't even finish the paper until 1:30. We were packed, gassed up and on the road by shortly after two, with the rehearsal dinner scheduled to start at 6. Sweaty and tired we arrived half an hour late to discover that no one else was there because we were now in Central Time and it was only 5:30. Saved! We hauled our things into the bathroom and changed clothes in time for everyone else to arrive.

As mentioned before this is the very southern and very conservative side of my family. Fortunately, everyone was very warm and aside from Matt being introduced as my "friend," we had a great time. The wedding was beautiful of course, but ohhh, the food-- a big dinner on Friday night, a big brunch on Saturday morning and then a huge reception feast after the wedding. It was arguably the best part of the trip. We also got to spend some time with my mother and grandmother, who were staying in my aunt's guest house with two very beautiful and friendly Abyssinian cats, Sheba and Solomon. (I have pictures. I swear they're being developed.) We're slated to visit Mom and Grandma sometime this spring in Arizona, where they're currently in the process of moving.

We woke early on Sunday and made the drive home again in about four hours. We dragged everything inside and Matt checked the answering machine while I checked my mail (78 emails, 11 of which weren't spam). I took a quick shower and was out in time to hear a message from Leigh, one of my coworkers, asking that I call her at work as soon as possible. I puttered into my room wearing a towel and called, hoping I'd be able to ask for the night off to take a nap. "Aaron," she said, "Andy's dead. He shot himself yesterday morning."