Lordy lord, I have No time to write, but I'm doing it anyway so I can tell you about Minired's wedding. Friends, it was the best wedding and reception I've ever been to (including my own), and not just because Minired's my sister. The wedding itself was lovely, with both bride and groom weeping while they said their vows (and passing a handkerchief back and forth). I enjoyed the parts of the ceremony that are traditionally Jewish the best; I've been to at least one Jewish wedding before, but I really paid attention at this one. Francisco did a really great job with the ceremony--I was proud of him and Minired and her man (not sure what psuedonym she's using for him now) were happy. After the ceremony the bride and groom adjourned to downstairs, followed by their attendants (I was her woman of honor--I refuse to be a Matron), and if you're going to be getting married in the San Jose area, you must, Must contact Minired to get info on the place she got married. It was a remodeled historical building with 3 floors. The top floor was where the ceremony was, and on the second floor was the reception room. Everything was decorated very nicely and the food and beverage service was great. For the first 45 minutes or hour after the wedding, there was a cocktail hour with drinks and some appetizers, and during this time there were some additional pictures upstairs, but not too many because most of them had been done before the wedding. Oh, also, their photographers were fantastic, and I would recommend them ultra-highly, so if you need a photographer in the San Jose area, Minired's your one-stop resource.
Okay, that's annoying now, all my talking about the particulars. I will stop. After the post-wedding pictures were done, the bridal party and bride and groom went downstairs and were announced by the DJ--men first, then women, then Minired and her Man. Once everyone was in the room and at their tables, then came the toasts--one by the best man, and one by me. I have to say, when I arrived in San Jose on Friday, I did not realize I would be giving a toast. I guess I should've figured that out, but I just thought the best man would give a toast, and that would be it. So I had prepared nothing in advance and in fact had no toast until about 5:30 a.m. on the day of the wedding. Fortunately inspiration struck while I was having coffee and reading in the breakfast room of the hotel while Francisco and Boy still slept (I couldn't sleep because my body insisted on sticking to east coast time), so I was set. The best man, Larry, had agonized over his toast for days, apparently, and was very nervous. I had no time or inclination to be nervous, so after his toast I gave mine, and it was short and somewhat odd [I was able to work both 'serial killer' and 'psychopathic murder' into the toast, which pleased me] and then it was on to the real fun, which was the meal and (more fun) the Dancing!
I need to interject here that I met Catie and Andy, and in fact got to sit at the same table with them, and I tell you, this was one of the best things about the wedding. Catie and Andy are terrific people. That is no surprise, but it was great to have it confirmed, and I enjoyed them both a lot. Andy is really fun--I had expected Catie to be fun, because she's Catie, but since I only knew Andy by what Catie says in her diary, I didn't know what to expect. What a great guy! If I were single and had no scruples, I would do my darndest to steal that man away--he is just that good. They told some fun stories about their wedding and we chatted about this and that until the dancing got underway, and then we danced, or chatted when the music wasn't compelling. At some point (it's a tiny bit hazy, due to me having some wine) the groomsmen invited us out to help decorate the getaway vehicle, and so Kimmy and I went out (Catie graciously declined, because she makes good decisions) to "help".
Kimmy was another of the best things about the wedding. She's one of my favorite people ever, and we had a great time during the weekend--possibly Too great a time at some points, namely when we couldn't stop laughing at her husband (a very strange and funny man) during the rehearsal dinner. We sort of egg each other on and were both weeping into napkins at the dinner, due to the laughing, before we could pull ourselves together. Which was mainly okay, because it was during the dinner proper and not during any important speeches or anything, but I think the other two bridesmaids at the table were a little bemused and possibly put off. That's okay, I didn't like those two anyway. But I digress. So anyway, we went out to decorate the vehicle, which was actually Larry's vehicle, since he was driving them to the airport after the reception (he decorated his own car--he was an excellent best man). The groomsmen (by and large frat boy-types) had purchased some gay porn (why gay porn? I do not know) and some sex toy/novelty items, plus condoms and whipped cream. They also had soap to write on the windows with, and they went to work. In the midst of it, one of the men handed me the soap and directed me to write something on a window and I told him I didn't know what to write, but he was insistent. So I wrote, "I HAVE A BUTT!", because of that wine I mentioned, when something like I HAVE A BUTT seemed pretty funny--clearly my vision didn't mesh with the general frat boy vision of the decorating. Shortly after that, Kimmy and I went back in, probably to the relief of the frat boys. Minired and Man did the cake cutting thing and there was more dancing. Our parents had had some margaritas and were pretty loose. I tell you, there's very little as fun as seeing your 70+ year-old parents dancing to Baby Got Back, and other similar classics. Catie and Andy left at some point (the reception is one big delightful blur) and about an hour after that, Minired and Man left to go change and go to the airport--they flew out to Ft. Lauderdale that night to get on their cruise, where they are right now. I hope they're having the best time ever.
I have a lot of things I could tell about the rest of the weekend, such as the two martini breakfast * the women had on the morning of the wedding (while the men were barbecuing and watching Swingers), or about what a lovely bride Minired was, and, OH, about meeting Kimmy and Dan's new baby, Grace (she is beautiful, with the most hair I've ever seen on a 3 month old, and also, that kid can wail). I could mention about how the flights we had were uneventful and I wasn't very scared at all, though I didn't enjoy the turbulence (of which there was puh-lenty), and now I want to fly again soon, so I can keep the lack of fear thing going. I should talk about the chair dance at the reception, because not only were Minired and Non put up there, but also his parents and my parents, and his sister and her spouse, and then me and Francisco. Francisco claims my expression was a 'rictus of fear', which might've been true right at first, but once I figured out the frat boys weren't going to drop me or launch me right out of there, I wasn't so nervous. Though I do hate heights to the point of being shaky on just a ladder. It was all very fun. And I got to go to Bev-Mo, which is a paradise of all things beverage. We don't have those out here in North Carolina, and that is a pity.
Something I thought of when we were on the first flight is the worst thing about being in a plane crash is it would be a great story but you wouldn't be able to tell anybody about it, since you'd be dead. That would make me very bitter. Also, this weekend someone told me something I didn't know, which is if you get married and then get on the airplane in your wedding dress, you are automatically upgraded to first class, you and your new spouse. I was wondering if a woman traveling alone could get an inexpensive wedding dress to wear on a plane, and if she'd get upgraded. Like, she could say, "I was left at the altar", and they'd feel bad and bump her up. Because if that would work, I might go shopping before I take my next plane trip alone. I would really love to fly first class, because I don't know exactly what a person gets in first class, but it seems like a shangri-la up there. If I were rich I wouldn't have a big house or fancy cars--I don't care about those things--but I would sure as shit fly first class every time, and even belong to one of those "clubs" the airlines have, with the special lounges and all that. Oh man, that would be so sweet.
This weekend one of my sister's friends who I'd met before several years ago, Julie, told me she reads my diary. Hi Julie! That was pretty cool. And Julie, could you please apologize to Larry [different Larry from best man Larry, for those of you who aren't Julie and don't know who I'm talking about] and Lance for all that drunken hugging I did? I'm a little embarrassed about that now, but I really like those guys, even though I barely know them, and I got carried away.
I just know I'm forgetting a million things, but maybe I'll remember them for next time. I came back from the weekend to find many, many voice mails and emails waiting for me at work, as well as a lot of files and stuff, so I have plenty to keep me busy. Dammit.
*after which, when I was getting ready in my hotel room, I felt compelled to call my sister's room and point out that when you eat peanuts, you're making peanut butter in your mouth. I was sorry for That about two minutes later. Oy.
PS This month the college I work for is having special student/parent visit weekends, and tomorrow, Friday and Monday is one of those. When we have the special weekends, our office sets up drop-in hours for people to come in and talk to us, and we have signup sheets to keep track of all the people who pour in to see us. I plan to sabotage the sheet tomorrow (which should be the least busy of the three weekend days) to play a little trick on my boy coworker. He has the end of the alphabet, so I'm going to sign "Ima Wright-Wally" up to see him, which means he'll have to call that name out in front of a [hopefully sizeable] group of people. I will be there to point and laugh. This is part of the British slang obsession I've got going. 'I'm a right wally'--see? See? Damn, this is a tough room. |
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