I guess since they did it, now I have to.

Laura (right) is my role model. Also, she always looks like a model. If she did theatre in high school, I would be able to make an accompanying joke about “roles,” but alas, she did not. This is one of many ways that she continues to undermine my comedic potential.

I refused to write my speech for Laura’s wedding in its entirety; I didn’t want to lose the audience by sounding pedantic and rehearsed. I wanted to be able to freewheel a bit, if that felt right, and maybe I’d keep a few ideas in mind to be prepared. Emily and I hid away the day of the wedding to practice (we shared our speeches, but never the spotlight). I got about one sentence in to my half-improv speech and then broke down crying.

It was the only time that I cried through the entire wedding process. Before then, I never really saw the point in crying at weddings. Maybe it’s just because I am callous and cold-blooded, like a rude iguana, but it’s not like anyone is vanishing off the face of the earth or anything; I figured that weddings shouldn’t be sad unless you think the couple will be unhappy.

But I was moved, not by the collection of beloved people in our lives under one roof, not by the painstaking decorating and formalwear, not by the societal construct of weddings, but by the celebration of Laura and Robbie as fantastic people who could join together and celebrate the progress of their lives with the people they love.

I never once even imagined that Laura could possibly make a mistake in getting married. The idea was laughable, like Emily doing a good job of parking. Laura has always been too smart, too mature, and too clear-headed to make stupid mistakes. She is trustworthy, she is strong, and she is capable in ways that are all too rare. Her motivation is inspiring; her willpower, deafening; her ability to talk her brother into blogging, astonishing.

Then again, when I was about 14 she yelled at me for throwing away the heel of a loaf of bread at our uncle’s house, so, grain of salt.

Emily is, in the immortal words of the drag queen Kennedy Davenport, “a glamazon bitch ready for the runway.” She is always ready to werk a look or strike a pose (please refer to the attached photo, in which we are making the Mary-Kate and Ashley face). She has an eye for beauty and a smile that lets you know that she cares about what you’re saying.

Emily has balls of steel and the courage of a superhero. She famously used to be the one to step up and make calls for pizza delivery because Laura and I were too overwhelmed at the concept of interacting with another human person (in true millenial fashion). She’s been known to confront arrogant grown men and stand her ground like a chihuahua in front of a rampaging rhino, and win.

When I was in seventh grade (and at peak awkwardness), my junior high school was doing one of those educational revamps where the math textbook was new and even the adults had no idea what the fuck was going on. As a bleeding heart liberal, I support educational reform, but as a gawky, greasy student, it was pretty excruciating to witness firsthand.

I remember one afternoon I had spread all of my various math everythings all over the living room floor (this is the only way I am ever productive, even to this day). I was poring over some ludicrous iteration of a graph what could not be scaled for the axes, no matter what I tried; I was supposed to be drawing it out but kept having to erase my work. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t such a hard problem, but I was convinced that I was doing it wrong somehow, which was wigging me out.

Emily, in all her glory, noticed that I was struggling. I am also very vocal about my suffering, so it’s possible I did something to draw her attention. She asked me what I was doing, and I responded, exasperated, that I couldn’t fit the damned graph on the axes. She looked at me patiently and said,

“Did you try counting by twos?”

Three years my junior, with no idea what she was getting herself into, Emily was willing to roll up her sleeves, dive right in, and get it done. Her can-do attitude gets me every time.

Oh, I guess that leaves me. I’m Mike. I like languages and monologuing about Gay culture.