Murphy's Law

My wedding day was by far the best day of my life. I understand those that don't want to plan a wedding. I understand the pressure of the day, and to most eloping seems like the best course of action. I understand this, but there is really something to be said for saying those words in front of all the people that you love. The wedding is a trial of patience,  and planning one together and working through all your differences in opinion, will teach you so much about each other, and what your life will be like together. And if I have taken away one thing from the big to do wedding, it is this. Do it. Because if you can get through planning one, the marriage is a breeze!

I began the morning in wonderful spirits. I awoke after a good nights sleep, got my things together and my sister and I made our way to the hotel. We had decided that for photos ops, this was a superior plan to getting ready in the church basement. I am very happy that the photographer suggested this, since it turns out that the church that we were to be married in, was also having their annual "Free Turkey Dinner" in the basement. This would be driving in the hobos and less fortunate through the doors of the church while our string quartet would be playing. I made no fuss over this. Who doesn't love the smell of turkey? I for one think that gravy and phalaenopsis orchids should be a national treasure!

At the hotel we were all getting ready quickly, having our makeup done, by my very pregnant friend. My sister was doing my hair into what she calls her "Marie Antoinette meets New York City up-do." My nieces were admiring their dresses in the mirror, all was going well. I call down to the front desk and have them send up a bottle of champagne. Everyone is bustling around and laughing. It came time to put the dress on. Whose fitting had become somewhat of a trial. When I first got it, it was too small. Then I lost a bunch of weight and it was too big. Then I had it taken in, and it was very snug. I was sweating hoping that the filet mingnon I had for the rehearsal dinner hadn't set me over the edge. My niece is pulling with all her might to get that zipper up, and no budge. Then my sister came over and suggested that I put my arms up in the air. No dice. Finally after a ten minute struggle, my hands over my head and my face beet red from holding my breath it zips! I sigh and laugh in relief, I look at my gorgeous gown in the mirror, and mutter to it "you bitch."

We finish getting ready and walk down to the main entrance and wait for my father to get the car to take us all to the church. We do about an hours worth of pictures outside in the beautiful park across the street. The photographers set up a nice little surprise moment for me to see the groom. As we are walking through the fallen autumn leaves, we glance across the park to see that there is another wedding party there. We laughed and made West Side Story comparisons. I have a picture of my brother in law impersonating Andy Samberg and yelling "We'll throw your wedding to the ground!" How dare they take their wedding pictures in this public park the same time as us!

We'll throw yo wedding to the ground!

I  am waiting in the wings of the sanctuary as a string quartet and my best friend on trumpet play several of our favorite songs by Elvis Costello. My palms are sweating, butterflies are all a flurry, and heart is pounding. I get stage fright , and always have. I was focusing on not tripping in my four inch Betsy Johnson shoes. To my families credit, no one asked if I was nervous. I think I may have thrown up if they did. But somehow they knew I was. I wasn't nervous about getting married, just about it going right. My sister tries to keep me calm. The quartet keeps playing. Out of the corner of my eye I see several guys from the wedding party out on the church steps running back and forth without their tuxedo jackets on. Appearing to be mingling with the guests of the turkey dinner. The quartet keeps playing. Then I see the best man running out of the church onto the steps, and now the quartet has run out of songs. 

My best friend comes to the wing I am waiting in , and asks if they should repeat the set? I am freaking out  now. What is the hold up! We have been waiting to start the ceremony for 20 minutes now. It seems that the confetti cannon that was suppose to blow as we exited the church had gone off accidentally. All the grooms men were outside on their hands and knees picking up tissue paper outside, and frantically stuffing it back into the cannon. Finally the ceremony begins. 

My Dad walks me down the isle to "Maybe I'm Amazed" with my aunt on piano, the string quartet and my friend on trumpet. They rocked it! I was trying so hard not to cry and mess up my makeup. We begin the ceremony, and my father was the officiant. Next thing I know we are saying I do. It turns out that in the many many details there are, I forgot to inform him that we had written our own vows. I was trying to get his attention, but it was too late. Eh, oh well. The exact words aren't important, the content is what counts. 

We had asked my brother in law to arrange God Only Knows by the beach boys for the communion. My whole family are professional singers. He never says no, but the week before the wedding he says, "I just don't know, this song is a monster! It changes keys like every measure, and arranging it for four singers will be really difficult. Maybe you should pick a different song." I think all couples have the songs that are really special to you. I couldn't even fathom another song that would work and mean the same. You get to a point where you just want people to make it happen. And thanks to him they did. The music was also given to the string quartet to accompany them, and when they got to the microphones to sing, the quartet shook their heads no. They totally bailed! My sweet sisters and two brother in laws being the professionals that they are, just looked at each other and did it anyway acapella. They sounded awesome too!

We walk out of the church to the song "Waterloo Sunset" by The Kinks and the cannon goes off, and it was beautiful! Shimmering white paper floating in the air, in some pictures it looks like snow. We reach the bottom steps to what was suppose to be a black Lincoln Towncar with a special edition bottle of Tattinger in it. The driver opens the door for me into what I believe was a Lincoln LS, which is about half the size of a town car. He was picking confetti off of me and brushing the seat with his hands like he was touching anthrax. My husband gets in the car and the driver says very short, "Where to?" My husband realizes that he left the champagne in the refrigerator at the church and asks the driver to jet down the alley quickly so he can grab it. As soon as the groom exits the car, the driver is furiously brushing the seats with his hand, and huffing and puffing as though the twenty bits of paper were red paint or bubble gum. When he gets back into the car he turns to me and says, "Well you know you can't drink that in here."

I said, "I'm sorry?"

He goes off on a tangent about how he doesn't have a licence for that, that because there is no partition it is a total non negotiable. Here it is, my especially special and stressful day, and this joker is treating me, the bride, like an agent from the IRS. I started to cry. I was so mad, and thinking to myself, well if you would have brought us Lincoln Towncar that we requested, there would be a partition! My husband gets back in the car, sees that I am crying, and becomes furious. I explain to my husband that the driver has been mean, and we cannot open the $300 bottle of champagne. 

My husbands face becomes very red. And he blows like Mt. St Helen's. I know that there was no white horse, or shiny armor, but through the very lengthy string of profanities that flowed out of his mouth to this driver, they felt like a defending of honor. It was very rescuing tactical. He demanded that he let us out of the car, and that he had no business talking to me like that, or making me cry on my wedding day. He said, "Turn around! We will just take our minivan!" We are not even one block away from the church, and the driver is saying that he will not let us out of the car until he gets paid. My husband throws $200 at him in disgust. It was much like one of those Italian mobsters throwing money at a hooker. $200 bucks to go 50 feet, and be abused. So there I stand in the parking lot of the church, in my wedding gown, watching as my family leaves one car at a time as my husband tries to find someone to drive us. My uncle yells from a car "Hey lady you need a ride?" I started laughing. This really is ridiculous! It is sinking in at this point that we did in fact just fire our driver. My brother in law comes outside smiling from ear to ear and tells me my chariot awaits. I laugh as we turn to look at our ten year old, very dirty, minivan with a scratched up fender. We brush the ashes from the seats, moving the grocery bags, and empty water bottles, and popped that champagne!

After taking many pictures downtown, we make our way to the hotel. When we arrive, there are easily 200 cars wrapping chaotically around the valet, which is now located at the west entrance blocking traffic, because the main entrance is undergoing renovation. Then I remembered that the reason our reception was moved to the rooftop was because Washington University was having their annual alumni dinner which had about 800 guests. 800 guests in fancy cocktail attire all wanting to valet park. After almost thirty minutes in line, we finally get out of the car, and there are about eight greeters in the foyer directing people. It turns out that the guest speaker for the dinner, has the same last name as my maiden last name. So in droves strange wealthy people are arriving up to the roof to my wedding reception. And my guests who say they are their for "maiden name party" are charged for valet thinking that they were their for the alumni dinner, and not the wedding reception. It was total chaos. What are the chances?

The very swanky rooftop space we got from being kicked off the ballroom floor by the Alumni dinner. Talk about lucked out!

From there everything was late. The events director came to me and said that my guests were trying to do shots at the bar, this was not hotel policy, and that they would not do this. I laughed to myself. I am a bartender, of course my friends are trying to do shots! My best friend finds us in the hallway and expresses slightly slurred and uncomfortably loud that she had in fact gotten the bartender to make them shots.We got the reception started easily and hour and a half late. Then the toasts ran really long. Most of the food was cold. My DJ had to leave for another engagement, and the valet lost his car, subsequently getting him fired from his weekly gig. A friend worked the Ipod for the dances, and announced many of them in the form of a question. 

"Now, the bride and the father?"

In the end it was the best day of my life! The best part about having things go wrong, is how you handle it. And I really couldn't care less. It was my wedding day, and if I fell in a cake or caught my dress on fire, it wouldn't matter because at the end of the day, I would be Mrs. Newlywed. I wouldn't change a thing! I had a blast, and it turns out, I think my favorite part was riding in my minivan, in a gown that cost more than the car, sipping $300 champagne and my brother driving us.

End of the night, barefoot and catastrophes over!