Quote of the day...er...week...umm...hey, look, a quote!!

Tibi gratias agimus quod nihil fumas.

It says "...freedom of...", not "...freedom from...".

Nolite te bastardes carburundorum!

"It's amazing to me how many people think that voting to have the government give poor people money is compassion. Helping poor and suffering people is compassion. Voting for our government to use guns to give money to help poor and suffering people is immoral self-righteous bullying laziness. People need to be fed, medicated, educated, clothed, and sheltered, and if we're compassionate we'll help them, but you get no moral credit for forcing other people to do what you think is right. There is great joy in helping people, but no joy in doing it at gunpoint." - Penn Jillette

Friday, June 27, 2008

About A Wedding

Burlap Condoms has invited her readers to share their awful wedding tales, leading off with one of her own.

I haven't been to many weddings (should I feel unloved or something??) and they were all loverly, so instead of sharing something awful, I'm braggin'.

I was married on a Friday the Thirteenth in October, on the day of the full moon, in my Mum's front yard by a judge, wearing a Renaissance style dress. T was wearing a sort of Pirate/Three Musketeers getup, complete with sword. Geeks, we. Our guests were invited to wear Rennie-garb or "resort casual" dress, which was a phrase I thought I made up on the invitations (turns out I didn't, oh well) and did nothing to clarify to guests how they could dress if they didn't want a costume. I do NOT eschew obfuscation!! What I really meant was "Hey, as long as your are clothed and not wearing your rattiest blue jeans, it's cool", but that was way too long for our little created-at-Kinko's invite. Hey, the art on the front was an original piece drawn for us by an artistic friend, so it wasn't all bad.

The original piece of art is hanging in our living room. We had it on a table at the wedding, and friends and family wrote their well-wishes on the mat. Some of them are gone from this world, but their words still linger.

The ceremony was less than five minutes - seriously, it took longer for us to walk down the "aisle" (a pebbled path from the house to the arbor) than it did to say vows.

Words blathered, we stood for photos (taken by a couple of friends because I'm too cheap to pop for a pro. Photos turned out amazing) with our REAL flowers, then headed to the tent on the other side of the driveway, where our potluck reception was held. Yes, I AM that cheap.

The tables had linens, there was a dance floor, and the flowers on the bridal table were real. So were the floating candles on the other tables (best friend provided them, and they were lovely.) We didn't do place cards, preferring the informality and conformability of mingling, of folks sitting where they liked with whomever they liked, getting to know each other. We had scattered throw-away cameras on the tables so our guests could be our photographers. They did us proud.

The food was amazing - everyone brought out their best creations for us. We had plastic plates and cups - so many, in fact, that we are still using them when we go camping! The wedding cake matched my dress, white on white brocade pattern, entirely by accident. The Groom's cake (this has to be a Southern thing, as I never heard of it until Steel Magnolias and my move to the South) was a red-velvet, armadillo cake. Really. I still have the head and the arse in my freezer. Is that wrong?

We drank the obligatory toasts, but T had a secret - ginger-ale in his glass rather than champagne. He doesn't drink, never has, won't. I was fine with that.

We used the same DJ that played our SCCA events (Sports Car Club of America, for whom we worked turns as safety marshals). We danced for what would be the only time (so far) in our marriage, to an Eagle's song. Classy, no? During the dance, I was quietly trying to reassemble his wedding ring - he had a puzzle ring, and had managed to let it fall apart...and he didn't know how to put it together again! Lucky I did, and could do it without looking. His ring was back on his finger before anyone noticed anything amiss - we have some superstitious family members, and what on Earth would they have made of that?? Hmm...come to think of it...

I wasn't one of those little girls who dream about a princess wedding, pearls and crystals on the dress, twelve carat diamond on my finger, all that. I was happy with my Mum's engagement and wedding rings, a dress sewn by a seamstress friend for just about cost, potluck reception serving foods made with love by the people who fill my life with the best of themselves even when they're at their worst. I love that our invitation was drawn by a friend. I love that our reception wasn't catered, didn't break the bank, but gave our friends and local family a chance to shine. I love that our friends and family, rather than burden us with a bunch of household goods we didn't need (I already had one of every kitchen gadget known to man), tried to surprise us (well, me)(it's very hard to surprise me, but I bless them for the effort) by chipping in for a cruise for our honeymoon - we weren't going to have one, otherwise.

Our wedding cost less than many women spend on their gowns. I am proud of that - why spend your (or your parents') savings on a gown you'll wear once? On a hall you won't notice, on food you won't taste? I know it's the dream for some, and that's fine...I've been a pragmatist since I was a child, and it didn't make sense for me...and T didn't care, so long as we were married. Bless him.

At some point, T and I slipped into the house and changed into blue jeans - and so did a number of our guests. We eventually drove off to the B&B we were staying at. I offered to come help clean up the next day, but was firmly told "no". They wouldn't let me help set things up, either. Heck, I didn't even help cook the rehearsal dinner (steaks on the grill, corn on the cob, rocking on the front porch of Mum's house in the dusk). I was secretly glad to leave it to someone else.

Long as it is, that's a nutshell of the day.

So - how about you? Have a bad experience at yours or someone else's wedding? Have a good one? Tell me about it!

6 comments:

Gypsy Guru said...

I think I'll have to dust off the wedding pics and do a post of my own - I like the "nice" wedding memories better than the "not-so-nice" variety. Never have been tempted by the whole Bridezilla experience.

I'll link back when I do. Thanks for the inspiration!

chris said...

Man, I would have loved to be in that ceremony. Our wedding was pretty uneventful. My wife and I went to city hall and 15 minutes later we came out as Mr. and Mrs.

We are thinking of have a repeat ceremony with the children as our entourage...

Kyddryn said...

Michelle, cool! I'm not into Bridezilla stuff, but I've heard some truly funny wedding tales that didn't as much show the worst of the participants as it did their grace and humor when things went...erm...wrong.

Chris, lots of folks have recommitment ceremonies later in their marriages. Making the kids part of that would be cool!

Magpie said...

My cousin's wedding was hands down the worst. Friday of Labor Day weekend, at 6:00. Service went on forever, guests then went to the reception while the wedding party went somewhere for pictures. They didn't get to the reception until like 10pm. All guests were snockered by then. The main course wasn't served until after midnight. Someone we didn't know fell asleep in her plate at our table. Etc.

And now they're divorced.

paisana said...

See, this sounds fine and representative of you as a couple, rather than trying to be extravagant and incorporating every piece of the wedding puzzle you could, for under $10.50.

Thanks for the shout-out!

Kyddryn said...

Magpie, yikes! Sounds like no fun for anyone!

Paisana, yeah, it was very "us', and isn't that the point? Also, we tried to be considerate of the people attending, something I think is lacking in some folks' wedding plans. I know it's YOUR big day, but really, you don't get to leave common courtesy at the chapel door. Oy vay or some junk.

I think we paid about ten dollars a head, but it was mostly the expense of the tent. Really, I am a cheap-ass byotch. :-)