Wedding Bell Blues

Over the weekend I went to probably the most chill wedding I’ve ever been to.  The bride and groom wore tie-dye t-shirts and there was pizza and wings and the weather was perfect.   Since getting married myself I have been to a few weddings, and at each of them there has been a moment of “damn, I should have done that.”  At this wedding the entire vibe gave me that feeling.  See, people tell me all the time that they had a blast at my wedding.  Here’s a secret:  I did not.

I felt rushed from the get go, which manifested itself in me puking all over the bridal room about thirty seconds before showtime, narrowly and blessedly avoiding my dress, but making quite the cleanup for the staff at Joseph’s Country Manor.   Also, in this rush I did not fix my hair or lipstick, so I don’t look as nice in the photos as I would have hoped.  This is complaint number one about the pictures.

When I got to the altar I almost fell ass backwards into the mud, which was comical, but not ideal.  When we got to the vows I was blown away by the beautiful things Mark said.  I have no idea what I said, because my vows were in my Maid of Honors purse back in the hall.  Someone gave me a tissue.  I stuck the tissue in my bra.  The tissue is in all the photos of me walking back down the aisle.  Thanks, everybody, especially the photographer who should be noticing that kind of thing.

I am told the food was delicious.  It looked and smelled delicious.  I couldn’t eat it, what with the aforementioned vomiting and extremely tight dress.   Mark and I danced, then dad and I danced, during which his pants fell off.  For real, my father did not get a belt with his tux and started losing his pants in the middle of Stevie Nicks singing “Landslide.”  So that beautiful father-daughter dance picture does not exist.  Instead, we have me and my father laughing riotously.  Which is probably better because I was certain that our dance was going to make me cry, and instead I was laughing.  Then we danced with the kids, who requested that we have a family dance but weren’t as interested when the time came, and THEN my mother made me dance to the long version of “Ain’t No Mountain” with her, which was a complete surprise for me.  I love my mother, but I did not want to dance anymore.  Also, there’s a two-minute version of that song,

The rest is a complete blur.

I don’t know if it was lack of food coupled with alcohol or just that my brain finally screamed “enough!”  I feel like a shit friend because I don’t remember either Jen or Jaime’s toasts.  I mean, I know Jaime made me cry but I don’t know why.   There are people that were at the wedding that I wanted to talk to and somehow never got the chance.  I was battling nausea the whole time, and all I wanted was to get to the hotel where there was a jacuzzi waiting to soothe my aching feet.

Eventually the evening ended.  Mark and I got to the hotel, where I was disappointed to find that I had accidentally made the wrong reservation, and we did not, in fact, have a jacuzzi.  I took off my dress and stood in front of the mirror, tearing apart my well-crafted hairdo and lamenting how quickly the whole thing went.  Then Mark and I went and got Mighty Taco, came back and watched The Daily Show, and went to sleep.

In the morning we were driving home early even though we had been given a late checkout because 9 of Marks relatives were staying in our apartment.  He pointed out to me that even though the night was hazy, we had the pictures to look forward to.

Cut to a month later.

I get the pictures.  It starts out nice enough-lovely photos of me and my friends getting ready, cute ones of the girls, nice family photo…then we’re at the venue and it’s Mark and the boys and Kevin and they look so handsome.  Followed by the ceremony, which is fine excluding my hair and makeup and the tissue thing.  Then our dances.  Cake.  Couples at tables.  Then, candid’s.  I was clear I wanted a lot of candid’s, and I got them.  Like 42 of them.  All of my sisters’ friends, and my distant cousins.

You would think no one else was at the wedding.

I think the photographer was under the impression these TEENAGERS were my friends.  Alas no, my friends are out on the back-patio smoking and drinking and do not tend to get out on the dance floor all that much.  So, I have almost no photos of my friends at my wedding, and very few of my close family.

All in all, I was disappointed.  I was afraid to tell my mother this because she worked so hard and spent all this money, but she understood that I wasn’t disappointed in the wedding itself (for real, it was gorgeous and I have no complaint there) I’m just disappointed in my experience of it.

Mark and Bernie promised that for our 20th anniversary they will throw an awesome party that makes up for my wedding day experience.   So I’ve got 17 years to plan, and I intend to make sure that if nothing else, it is relaxed and fun.  I don’t want to have to rush it.

Also, a good photographer.  I just cannot stress that enough.


Me:  What the hell does he expect me to do? Mark:  Just stand there and smile, damnit.