The wedding was very nice. It was held at what I described to a coworker as an old, fancy, small, hotel kindof thing, which didn't help her understand what the hell I was talking about. Then I said it was in Old Town Alexandria, and she knew right away.
All my pictures are from the getting ready part, and I was sneaking pictures while the photographer was doing her thing, so let me just assure you that the real pictures are going to be gorgeous.
Downstairs, we waited with Dave. Tracy was hovering somewhere nearby, waiting for the cue from the coordinator. Eventually we got the green light and the harpist started playing. Dave's brother and mom went in, Dad and I went in, I can't remember if Mom and Marty went in before or after us because I was busy trying not to screw up, then Dave and the non-denominational but very reverential reverend. I was at that level of nervous where you can't actually focus on anything, so I was quite relieved to be brought back to earth by the sweet sounds of the harp playing Pachelbel's Canon. pling! pling! pling! BWOWww
HEE HEE HEE!
She was trying hard, but she's not putting out a CD anytime soon. I tried not to find it nearly as funny outwardly as I did inwardly, but the nervousness did not help my giggles.
I am always dismayed by how much the reverend speaks. I see how if this is your church, and this person has known you forever, they might have more of a role, but it seems so weird to me to see pictures of these two people who love each other so much... sandwiching some random person that they don't know and will likely never see again. That's why I wanted Chris's friend, or Aunt Kate... or even if we did have to go with the very watered down "family member" who was ordained in prison, it would be somebody we knew who would marry us... but Jennyway.
So the ceremony is over quickly and preciouses exchanged, and Dave and Tracy start to turn and walk out of the room. Blah blah blah... "present Mr. and Mr. Buracker." So I think that had us all rolling. They leave and I don't know if I'm supposed to go get Dad and follow them or what, so we all just kind of look at each other and shrug until someone points us in the next direction, which was either alcohol or pictures, I can't remember.
I managed to get my Diet Coke purse into the ceremony, but outside, the photographer very lovingly gave me permission to set it down. Multi-option family photos to follow. I think it was Dad (or was it Marty?) who started singing, "You put your mother-in-law in, you take your mother-in-law out..." We continued playing Who's the Closest Relatives to the Happy Couple until we were all eliminated and went back inside for more alcohol and schmoozing. At some point, we were herded into the private dining room, where Tracy poured champagne all over my chair. Ok, now I really have to make a list:
1. Failure to bring hosiery
2. Original dress rejected by Mom
3. Unanticipated struggle to get into hosiery
4. Raging period
5. Unable to buckle shoes
6. Can't fit anything into ornamental Diet Coke purse
7. Champagne lap
8. Dad narrowly avoids setting his jacket on fire- Jenny prevents this and a beer from being knocked over
9. Step on Tracy's train as she's walking
10. Informed of hole in hosiery
11. Negate earlier save by knocking Dad's glass out of hand from my overenthusiastic dancing, sending wine simultaneously up his nose and down his shirt.
Dad told me about his trip to the dry cleaner's. He was telling the lady about what happened to his suit when they both noticed some schmutz a little further down on his jacket. "AH, CAKE!" she identified.
Yeah, so I wasn't the only one. And I'm sure there are other wardrobe failures I'm missing, but those were entertaining.
So, dinner. Tracy did us all a disservice by not telling us how delicious the chicken was going to be, so damn near everyone ordered steak. She did tell us it was really good, but I imagine wedding chicken to be a dried up, boneless, skinless, tasteless chicken breast with a lemon slice on top on a bed of shitty pasta. She was kind enough to feed me chicken bits. The steak was good too, but not nearly as delicious as that frigging chicken. I also heard there was pasta available.
Beer! Wine! Champagne! Toasts!
Eventually we stopped eating and were herded back to the ceremony room for some cake and goth clubbing. I guess some of the couples were waiting for a slow song to dance to, but it never came, but it was also not their wedding, so fuck 'em. I say that appropriately, because this was the most personalized wedding playlist ever. There was no Chicken Dance at this shindig.
The only thing that sucked was that we had to STFU by 10. That was probably for the best, as Tracy and I were shutting down by yelling CAKE lyrics to each other. Alienation- it's what we do.
Tracy's friends drove me back to T&D's so I could babysit the puppies. I took one more picture that night of my pretty hair and makeup that Tracy got for me. I was sad to take it all down, because I felt so pretty in it.
It really was a lovely time, and I can't wait to see the real pictures!
