Blur

(As a word of warning - this blog entry is obscenely long. But it's about my wedding, so I'm going to take one "I'm the bride" moment here and say feel free to skim it if you'd like...)

Our wedding was on Friday, and it really was everything we wanted, with one major exception. The freaking blizzard of ’07. We went up to The Lodge on Thursday after all kinds of scurrying around, tying up loose ends. Our rehearsal started a little late, partially because we arrived a little late, but it didn’t ruffle any feathers, and by the time all the major players arrived, we were able to go through things a couple times before dinner. However, it was a lot of fun and it was really helpful to go through things beforehand. Everyone seemed to hit it off (for those that didn’t already know each other, that is), and the rehearsal dinner was a great party. Special K and I had gathered some materials for welcome boxes for our guests staying at the Lodge, which were assembled by Brunette, AS, and Miss M (to whom I will always be grateful. While we’re at it – special thanks to Brunette for staying up until 2:30 a.m. writing out placecards since her handwriting far exceeds mine in quality). These were dropped off at every room at the Lodge and the Inn, so that people had schedules handy, as well as some snacks and water if they needed them but were between meals. After the dinner, Special K and I hung out with some folks, talking and watching some absurd television. I didn’t realize that I’d fallen asleep until I heard someone say “aw…she’s asleep…”, at which point I woke up and stumbled into bed.

Friday morning dawned, and I looked out the window. To see the beginnings of an ice storm. The Lodge is up in the mountains, so you may imagine how this made me feel (if your guess is “like crap”, then you’re quite the smarty). I tried to be positive as I looked at the weather forecast that told us about the rain and snow and ice yet to come, but I did lose it and start crying. No screaming, no yelling, just profound disappointment, because all I could see were the empty seats that I was convinced would be awaiting us that evening. However, after being ministered to by two of my bridesmaids and best friends, I dried my face, showered, and headed out to the salon, through the snow and ice. There were two cars making the trip, with one car that was supposed to join us later. We arrived at the salon, and Roxanne, my hairstylist since I was 16, was waiting with the door open, smiling and telling me that she’d had horrible weather for her wedding, but she still got married, and I would too – and that she’d take care of us in the meantime. As people were getting coiffed, the phone call came that the second wave wouldn’t be making its way to the salon, because they had gotten stuck trying to get out of the Lodge.

This didn’t make me nervous at all.

We ordered lunch, and it was my time in the chair. Roxanne and I had talked about what we were going to do with my hair, and she completely exceeded my expectations. I loved the way my hair came out, and I was confident that it would survive a nuclear explosion, which is really what you want out of wedding hair. It can look soft and beautiful (and should, in most cases), but should never actually be soft. That stuff needs to be doused in enough hairspray to shellac a giant redwood. We were ready to leave just as lunch arrived, so we piled into our cars and set off down the snowy and slushy roads, hoping that we’d make it up the mountain.

We actually made really good time, up to the point where we reached the base of the mountain. Then we stopped. No explanation, no cell phone reception, and stopped in traffic. From what we were later able to conclude, there was a large truck stuck at the base of the mountain that couldn’t make it up and couldn’t turn around. We sat there for more than 40 minutes (which felt like eternity) before the traffic started moving again, and we miraculously made it up to the Lodge. We arrived, and found that the flowers had already been delivered (not surprising as I was more than 45 minutes late by this time). When Special K and his friend LT loaded the bouquets into my dad’s car (he drove us to the salon…aww….) I caught my breath because they were really so much more beautiful than I imagined they would be. I went running into the building, hoping to find Matt, our florist, but he had already left to head back to his studio (not surprising, I would have). We then informed the staff there that everything was likely to run at least one hour behind schedule, and we were told, as we were so many times that weekend “no problem”. (I really, really love these people.)

I saw someone setting up a reflector and rustling around in a camera bag, and went over to my photographer, Mandi, to introduce myself. She wins the photographer of the year award for the following reason, if nothing else. Her car got stuck in the snow a couple of miles down the road. So she hitched a ride to the Lodge. Later, she found out that her car got impounded. Her reaction? “Well, that’s okay. At least it’s off the road now.” I love her. So much. We had a great time with her, and she was fantastic to work with. Very calm, and while I’d done my best to maintain my cool (and I thought I did a decent job, despite a few frustrated crying episodes), it was still really nice to be surrounded by calm, competent people.

I started to get ready, chatting and relaxing with some of my bridesmaids as I did so, not thinking about the weather if possible, and trying to have a sense of humor about it. Of COURSE there was an ice storm and blizzard in March. Of course. Sheesh. I had a curious effect on my cousin Sarah, my matron of honor. Every time she looked at me, regardless of what was happening, she would start crying. Every. Time. So I started trying to make weird faces at her to keep her distracted, and my friend Michelle took the more direct approach of pinching her.

I finally got into my dress with the help of a few people (it wasn’t a huge, pouffy, meringue-type dress, but I still needed a bit of help), slipped into my fabulous, kick-ass shoes, put on my jewelry, and waited for Keith to come in and see me. First, however, my dad came in and asked everyone for a few minutes alone with me. I thought it was going to be his time to impart some fatherly wisdom, but sadly, it was to tell me that the bus from the hotel carrying my grandmother, my aunts and uncles, my cousin who I hadn’t seen for 15 years and his family who I’d never met, and our dear friends from Wisconsin, South Carolina, and Colorado, had to turn back because of the weather.

Crap.

I had already cried a few times because of the weather and what I thought it would do to the day. I didn’t cry with this last bit of news, the pickle on the crap sandwich as it were, but I was glad to have a few moments alone with my dad to think it over, compose myself, and deal with it before I was surrounded by the overwhelming and touching sympathy of my bridesmaids, which would have made me cry. Everyone slowly filed back in, I announced that this last piece of news sucked royally, and that people could go ahead and send Special K on in. Everyone filed out again, and I sat waiting with our photographer, looking outside, and thinking that the scenery really was quite beautiful under its blanket of snow. (Which is not to say that I wasn’t still pissed off. Because I was.) After a few minutes, I wondered what was taking Special K so long, since he was just in a room across the hall. Mandi went over to see what the delay was and came back in announcing a “hairbrush emergency”, which I think was precipitated by a lack o’ hairbrush. However, she borrowed one and his locks were quickly set to right.

I sat there, with the train of my dress draped across the floor, with no butterflies but just a calm, happy feeling, as the door slowly opened. He poked his head around the door and I think we were both smiling and laughing, because as much as a lot of things were going wrong that day, we were still just so happy to be together and to be getting married. I had my share of pre-wedding jitters as I got more and more stressed out, but those, plus the stress, all evaporated once I saw him. We smooched a bit, all of which is certainly caught on film, and tried to take a moment to absorb what it all meant – me in the large, white dress with my hair and makeup all purty; him looking all kinds of handsome in his new black suit with his white shirt, white silk tie, and the cufflinks that belonged to my grandfather.

We made our way out of the room, and I was absolutely stunned. There were PEOPLE there! Lots of them! I couldn’t believe it. I knew that the weather wasn’t getting any better, and I knew how hard all of those people must have tried to make it there. I was absolutely blown away that so many people were so determined to show us how much they love and support us. I said hi to some people and hugged a few, feeling before I set foot out the door that I didn’t care too much about maintaining the “air of mystery”, and if people were going to see me, they were going to see me. No biggie. Special K and I had our moment, and that was what counted.

We walked through the Lodge to the room where we were going to have our ceremony, for some formal pictures with friends and family. After a few minutes of running through all the combinations and permutations, we decided that we should get the show on the road, so to speak. All of the wedding party hustled out into the kitchen, where staff had laid down tablecloths so no one’s hems would get dirty, and we lined up. My friend Sarah and my sister-in-law, the fabulous Stacy, both said a prayer with me before we got going, and it was a wonderful moment, really placing into perspective what Special K and I were about to do.

Everyone filed out until it was just me and my dad, waiting. I couldn’t hear the music, all I could hear was the dishwashers and cooks all working to make our dinner. We got the cue to head out, and we stepped out into the cold, to wait until it was time.

Now, I’m not a tremendously diva-esque person. Yes, I’m loud and outgoing and all of those things, but much as it may seem contradictory, I really don’t like being the center of attention. So it was a little surreal when the doors opened and I saw about a hundred pairs of eyes, all focusing on me. It was like I was watching it through a camera, like when a TV show shoots something from the perspective of the person experiencing it. You see what it’s like to walk down the aisle, but you don’t quite feel it. It was the strangest tunnel vision, but I made it down the aisle, hoping that Special K and I could both make it through the whole thing without crying.

Our friends Mark and Richard were waiting there to perform our ceremony, and as Mark started talking, my brain was frantically trying to hold on to every moment, because I knew that it was all going to slip by too quickly to really catch it. He and Richard delivered a touching, personal ceremony, which meant a lot to Special K and me – big things about issues of faith and perspective and what to expect from your partner, who is flawed and human, but with whom you’ve chosen to make your life because they’re perfect for you. And little things like Richard quietly saying “awesome!” to us, with an ear-to-ear grin after he led me through my vows.

Stacy and Sarah, accompanied by my brother Pete and our friend Bill performed “The Power of Two” by the Indigo Girls for us, and it was absolutely beautiful. I could see that a few people were mopping up tears through the ceremony, and I have to admit that I was surprised that my voice only broke once. My dad made it through in one piece, as did Special K, and although there were rumors that Papa Special K had to blot his eyes on occasion, I think we all kept our composure! Clearly, there’s nothing wrong with showing emotion at a wedding, but we were trying to avoid bawling and heaving sobs if possible – mission accomplished by all!

We were “instructed” to kiss, (we didn’t need much coercion), and although it seemed as though I’d just gotten there, we were then sent back down the aisle as a married couple. It went so fast!

We stayed for some group pictures with family and friends, then made our way into the cocktail reception to the dulcet tones of “Back in Black” by AC/DC. The fist of rock made an appearance, there was so much enthusiasm. We mingled and took pictures and eventually went in to dinner, which was delicious. Mmmm….there were speeches by the best man (Special K’s brother – who made an interesting and inadvertent and er…untrue speculation about certain aspects of Special K’s anatomy), the matron of honor (my cousin Sarah), my dad, and Papa Special K, who couldn’t resist making a follow-up comment to the best man. Ah – the things that they’ll never live down!

It was time for cake cutting, and I have to admit that we’d been looking forward to this for quite some time. Our cake was SO FREAKING GOOD. Beyond delicious, in fact. Vanilla cake with vanilla buttercream, with a spiced poached pear filling. If I could have a piece of that cake every day for the rest of my life, I would be so fine with that. There was no cake smashing, with which I was also fine, and then we launched into our first dance “More Today Than Yesterday” by Spiral Starecase. We had thought for a while about what to dance to, but didn’t want to be standing in the middle of the floor, desperately clinging to each other and swaying to an ultra-slow ballad, while sobbing “OH MY GOSH! *hiccup, sob* I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! *sob, sniff, sob*” So we thought that something fun and upbeat would suit our personalities better, and it did. Special K, although he’ll deny it, had a few ballroom dance-type moves up his sleeve, and cuts quite the rug. I’m not a particularly good ballroom dancer, but I can follow a good leader, so he was spinning me all over the place. Mercifully, someone had scuffed my kick-butt shoes for me, so there was no slipping, sliding, or falling. Hurrah! He even dipped me at the end. Aww….

My dad and I danced to “My Girl”, which was the result of weeks of attempting to determine what would be the best song. My dad doesn’t consider himself much of a dancer (although I think he’s too hard on himself), so he wanted something easy. We took a dance lesson, and that only served to intimidate him, so we ended up doing away with all we’d attempted to learn, and just swaying to the music. I think it worked well, and he looked as though he was actually enjoying the experience. So that was nice, too.

After that was the part I had waited for. I hadn’t been planning my wedding since I was five (not that there’s anything wrong with that), but there was one thing that I always knew I wanted. I wanted my friend Marsha, one of my best friends since I was 15 and one of my bridesmaids, to sing “Mandy”. And I have to admit, she exceeded all of my high expectations. It was the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life and it KILLS me that I don’t think anyone recorded it on video. The ONE thing that I wanted besides the ceremony (and big thanks to my nephew David for taping the ceremony!), and I think I will have to be satisfied with pictures and the memory… Ah well – glorious memories nonetheless.

Once the music started, kicked off by “Dancing Queen”, I don’t think I left the floor all night. I was just having the best time ever, as was Special K. The people who were there were so happy to be there, and we knew that we’d get to see the people who weren’t there the next day, which made it a little better. It’s true that I have more fun with Special K than with anyone else, and I have to say that I had more fun at my wedding than I ever have. I was just so thoroughly happy, I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing and hugging people (and I wasn’t drunk, in case those symptoms sound familiar…), and I couldn’t believe that all of this was really happening and was really flying by so quickly.

Before I knew it, we were bidding everyone goodnight and heading off to our room at the Inn at Pheasant Ridge (same property, different building), which had been decorated with rose petals and candles, and had a bottle of champagne chilling.

Aw…

And the rest of those details are none of your dang business. Suffice it to say, we both enjoyed our evening immensely.

The next day, we could see all the snowfall that had accumulated, and we headed into DC for my grandmother’s 90^th birthday party, which was great because it allowed me to see and Keith to meet more of my extended family. It was a fun party, filled with all the great grandkids and lots of happy memories. I hadn’t seen one of my cousins in 15 years, and had never met his wife or kids, so seeing them was a treat. They had also made a video tape of everyone on the bus who couldn’t make it, which we have yet to see in its entirety, but I’ve been assured that it’s coming. After that we took off for a few days of relaxation at a swanky downtown hotel, and an evening out with some friends that Saturday night. Bars in general are really irritating on St. Patrick’s Day, unless you’re one of the drunken revelers, but we really appreciated the efforts of all who came out and battled the crowds (and the long-ass line…) to reach us for a little more fun and hijinks.

We left the bar around midnight and strolled back to the hotel, in eager anticipation of relaxing in the Jacuzzi tub in our room. The relaxation continued the next day with Special K’s brilliant idea of in-room massages, which were definitely a splurge, but a pretty dang nice one. We went for a stroll afterward through DC, and made our way up to the Zoo. I am a science geek, I have always been a science geek, and it’s actually something I’ve grown to like about myself. Acceptance and all that. Fortunately, Special K likes that I’m a science geek as well, and is only to happy to listen to me ramble on about things like speciation, habitat fragmentation, and the like.

When we arrived, we were told that if we wanted to see the pandas, we’d better hurry because they were eating. And “they gorge, then they sleep”. I told the guide that I was very similar myself, so we’d be quick on our way over there. After observing the giant pandas reclining and crunching their bamboo, we took our time walking through the Zoo, checking out elephants, tigers, lions, and all kinds of other things. Along the Olmstead walk, we came upon the river otters – which are just about the cutest animals ever, and they totally knew they had an audience in us, as they kept diving in the water and looping up to the surface. Some people were standing next to us, and I saw one of them reach to bang on the glass. I gave her my best mom look that said “I don’t think you’re going to do what you think you’re going to do”, and she slowly withdrew her hand.

That’s what I thought.

Next up was the beaver habitat, and Special K eagerly read off the informational sign:

“Eats the roots, bark, leaves, and twigs of delicious trees…”

“Um, Honey. That’s deciduous.”

“Oh. Well. I’m sure the beaver thinks it’s delicious…”

And so it goes. I love my husband.

We had a wonderful day or two, hibernating from the rest of the world, but now we’re back. The cats are adjusting to their new home (although Milo still spends a lot of time walking close to the ground), and we are settling in as best we can, trying to put off the stresses and pressures of daily life as best we can.

It’s been a whirlwind few days, but now I just can’t wait to get pictures back. And hey – I’m Mrs. Special K!!