Hasta--la--Pasta

The dream started in dull colors of a park with a multitude of autumn trees.  The leaves drifted near your face and brushed against your cheeks as you closed your eyes to enjoy the feeling of your soft surroundings.  Just when you were about to open your eyes to see the monotone leaves floating past again, something brushed against your arm, noticeably different than the fluttering leaves.  Glancing over at the object that interrupted your calm awakening, you jumped, visibly shocked from what you saw.  Sitting there next to you on the park bench was your old time flame, Gilbert Beilshmidt.  Taking in a sharp breath, you stuttered out a single

4 years.  That’s the amount of time it had been since you had stepped foot in the city of your alma mater.  Ever since your break up with Gil, you had avoided it as best as you could, and so far, you had succeeded very well.  The only thing that could possibly bring you to come back would be Liz, and she was exactly why you were back.   You see, she was having her wedding this weekend, and you were her maid of honor. Stepping foot out of the airport you looked around at the bustle of people running to cars, and you sighed.  You’d be here until Liz got off work to come pick you up.  Setting your stuff down, you settled onto a near