Shockingly, It Was NOT On A Check For A Zillion Dollars
It’s taken me nearly four years now to finally get over the fact that while I wanted to elope to Vegas, The JOP, Detroit, wherever, I got a wedding instead. Sure, sure, blah, blah, blah, I am happy to be married to The Daver, whom I obviously don’t deserve, because if I did, I would have HAPPILY planned The Wedding of Doom for him without later whining to The Internet that what I’d really wanted was to be married by Elvis.
I wasn’t quite an anti-bride, but I was as close as it comes without that label displayed prominently across my fluffy white dress and perfectly coiffed up-do. I just had a hard time mustering up the energy it took to get worked up about place cards and first dances. Daver, on the other hand, wanted a proper wedding.
I’m not certain if it’s because his parents might have spontaneously combusted if he’d informed them that we weren’t getting married by God, instead by The Little White Chapel Drive Thru wedding guy, or if it’s because he’d been dreaming of His Wedding since he was a wee girl boy, but there I was in a white dress, pledging to love, honor and repay my now-husband. In front of Sweet Baby Jesus and all of our relatives and friends.
I couldn’t wait to leave.
No really, I couldn’t. Come over sometime and I’ll show you my perfectly arranged wedding album. You’ll see a lot of pictures of me, head buried into the side of The Daver’s face while he lovingly looks at me. And maybe, just maybe you’ll gaze upon us in our finery and say, “Now I bet THEY’RE whispering sweet nothings to each other.”
And you’d be horribly, awfully wrong.
In each one of those shots, you see, The Daver is talking me into staying. I wanted nothing more than to leave from the moment the photographer started taking shots of me any my girls in our undies in the church basement. Although I’m quite social, really, I couldn’t stand being the center of attention for an occasion that I was supposed to behave a certain way.
I knew I was supposed to be Bridely, but short of fluttering around and demanding that my bridesmaids do stupid stuff like fluff my dress and polish my nails, while complaining if someone dare express an emotion other than Pure Happiness for My Big Day, I was kind of baffled. I figured that bride’s didn’t swear, or have their underwear shoved unceremoniously up their ass crack or have their knees sweat. I figured they’d probably revel in their newly married status, and while that was all fine and good, I was hot, uncomfortable, nervous, and overall unhappy as hell.
Also? I was sick.
Really, really sick.
I’ve been blessed with a mere handful of chest colds in my life and the one I came down with the week prior to our wedding was the worst I’ve ever had. I could barely breathe without choking on phlegm, I coughed so hard that I could no longer sleep without sitting up at a 90 degree angle, and I was running ridiculous fevers.
So I did what any sensible bride-to-be would do: abso-fucking-lutely nothing.
I never claimed to be brilliant, did I? Because that would be telling a lie that lying liars tell. And lies? Make The Baby Jesus cry.
I then did something to top that feat of brilliance: I wore a corseted dress for over 12 hours.
(corseted dress = decreased lung capacity = lungs fill with more mucous than you thought possible = pneumonia)
I woke up the first morning as Mrs. David Harks (do not get me started on how much I hate this title. I hate it so much that my friends all make sure to address ALL the things they send to us as Dave and Mrs. David Harks. Because my friends are HILARIOUS) and felt like death. Blaming it on exhaustion and stress, Dave helped me drag my sad sack ass out to breakfast with some of my family, who was in town visiting.
Intelligently, while I had packed a wedding dress, makeup, white shoes (okay, they were cream. It was after Labor Day, and we ALL know how well I follow rules), a Guns-n-Roses garter, a diaper bag for Ben, bobby pins and a bra, I hadn’t packed anything to wear the First Day of The Rest Of My Life. Our miserable cat had taken a lovely piss all over the dress I’d worn to the rehearsal dinner, something, of course, I hadn’t realized until I was literally standing at the alter, wondering if Dave had peed himself.
Turns out he hadn’t. But I still had to go through the rest of the warm muggly summer evening smelling like a fucking cat box. What I’m saying is that this was the Best Day Ever.
So I had no dress to wear. Instead, I had an electric pink bra, an oversized Grateful Dead shirt (hey, don’t judge) and some hot pink mini-shorts that had the name of my alma mater on the ass cheeks. Also? Some rhinestone kitten-heeled sandals.
I know, I know, I was too sexy. Stop flattering me, I’m all embarrassed now.
After brunch, we went to my parents house to pick up some of the gifts we’d received and while we were there, I really started to have a hard time breathing. Every time I took a breath in, I coughed so badly that I would have peed my pants had my bladder been full.
Our honeymoon was the following morning, and I had pneumonia.
On our way back home, I really REALLY had a hard time breathing, so I had The Daver take me to the ER. It was a Sunday and we’d moved into an area where I knew of absolutely no urgent care facilities, so off to the ER I went, looking like a cracked out whore and sounding like I’d been smoking cigars by the bushel* since I was 12 minutes old.
The lovely–for once no trace of sarcasm here–ER doctor gave me a script for some big guns antibiotics and some codeine and I was sent on my merry way. The first thing I was able to sign my freshly married name to? A nice fat ER bill.
But I swear, next time I am SO eloping. Or demanding a script for Vicodin as a wedding present. Because THAT would have eased my pain like no amount of vodka could have.
How are YOU today?
*How many is a bushel?
Well, a bushel is a measurement of dry volume, not quantity. It is also equal to four pecks. Just so you know.
And I am fine today, thanks for asking.
I was uncomfortable as hell on my wedding day as well. On top of being very stressed out that my very UNcatholic mother was attending a VERY catholic wedding, I did not realize until I got down the aisle that the very OLD catholic church in which I was being wed, had NO air conditioning – in AUGUST. Suddenly, long gloves, my enormous dress and an hour and twenty minute ceremony didn’t seem like such a good idea.
So as to not leave you with the wrong idea – I am NOT catholic and neither is my husband (anymore). His catholicness was the only thing on my long list of what I was going to change about him that I have actually been able to change in 21 years. I’m still trying though. I’m just sure anyday he’s going to confess that he doesn’t really like blowjobs afterall.
Virtual high five from me on being the anti-bride. I tortured and tormented my family and friends and wedding vendors with my rigid list of “don’t’s”.My reign of terror would actually make a great post, so thanks for the inspiration.
I had a suspicion that you were a non-traditional bride by that great pic of you in your wedding dress on your profile.
The pneumonia is certainly a shit way to start as Mrs Daver, but it looks like it all worked out once the meds kicked in.
That’s why I ran away to Bermuda with 12 fun people and got married on a cliff by a chubby little man in Bermuda shorts and those stupid fucking socks pulled up over his chubby little calves. I was such a rotten bride that I told the best friend to take photos of the chubby little minister (?) instead of me. I’ll have to post a couple of those photos!
Oh, and I have a hangover today. Thanks for asking.
I wish I could say I had a ridiculously hilarious story about my wedding day, but I don’t. It was a pretty good day, to be honest. I made my own bouquet the morning of because I couldn’t justify paying some little asian lady at the floral shop $100+ for a bunch of flowers tied with ribbon. It just seemed like such a….waste. So I spent $30 on flowers, bought my husband-to-be some breakfast at Grandy’s (it’s like southern breakfast food on CRACK), and went home to listen to Metallica and make my bouquet.
The only shitty thing that happened was some asshat used white shoe polish on my husband’s tires, so he has driven around with polka-dotted tires for the past 2 years…yet still won’t let me put a Hello Kitty decal on the back of the truck I DRIVE 99% OF THE TIME because he says it will make him look like a pussy. Srsly? WTF?! Because polka dots just SCREAM “I’m manly, look at my chest hair!” *roll eyes*
At least someone wrote the obligatory, “Look mom, I’m not gay” on the rear window, lest someone think my husband preferred someone with less than 2 X chromosomes. Lame. Guess it canceled out the polka dots?
methinks not.
I had a pretty uneventful wedding day. It went off pretty much as planned other than the I-didn’t-get-to-eat-and-was-starving-that-night part. I didn’t want a wedding either. My father offered us the cash a wedding would cost plus 2 round trip tickets to Vegas (can you say DOWN PAYMENT on a house?)….my fiancee thought I’d regret not having a wedding, so we did the wedding. Am I glad I had it? 5 years later I was divorced. So I really had a really expensive party. I’ve felt guilty about it ever since. IF, and that’s a big if, I were to ever marry again…totally in Vegas, baby!
I felt the SAME way about my wedding. My husband said his mom would like it if we had a traditional ceremony and I caved, weak bitch that I am.
When we were supposed to be having our “sweet nothings” moment during a music portion of the ceremony, I was asking him if he remembered to get my prescriptions filled at the pharmacy. We’re not really the sweet nothings kind of couple.
I proceeded to then party at my reception as if it were someone else’s, family be damned. I paid for that party, and I was sure going to take advantage of the open bar. Before we left the reception, we did a shot called “cum in a bucket”, because that’s the kind of classy lady I am.
And I’m having a fabulous day, thanks!
I got married in Key West. On a sunset cruise. With no guests. Because, although I am a youngest child, I hate to be the center of attention. Then we went to Benihana for dinner.
And…I think I love Badass Geek.
My Mister and I are celebrating 10 years in September, and I am seriously considering renewing our vows. like you say, don’t judge, don’t judge! Lest ye think me cheesy, I really want to renew my vows for the simple fact that I didn’t mean them. Let me explain: My husband and I were both agnostic, and we did not belong to a church when we needed one most. I found a nice Chrsitian church that was willing to overlook the fact that we’re heathens and let us use their pews n altar. But their pastor was going to be out of town. well, our oh-so religious parents were more than happy to lend us their guy. We expressly told him JUST THE TRADITIONAL VOWS. No commentary or editorializing required. He agreed, and then on my wedding day, decided that I needed a lesson after all. Before we were pronounced man and wife, he encouraged Mister to “protect” me and for me to “Sumbit.” yes, i swear. Protect and Submit. Sounds like the German Shepherd motto. It was awful, I was so fucking mad. I managed to parlay it into a joke that lasted the rest of the night and honeymoon, but it still smarts to this day that the Holy Man fucked me over like that. Liar! Bastard!
Sorry, I just wrote a post instead of a comment!! Obviously, I needed to get that out.
I always wanted to get married in Vegas. By Elvis. I think it would be a nice story to tell the grandchildren. Instead, the real story isn’t anywhere near as interesting as Vegas, or as yours. What says love more than saturated cat pee?
I wanted to get married on a cruise but was coerced into having a regular wedding, (almost exactly like my younger sister’s 1 year before I need to add), by my mother who just loves weddings, loves shit to stress over, and she loves to be the center of attention. She drove me crazy. I was already questioning my sanity in marrying a guy 15 years older then me, who had been married before (5 times, 4 ex wives). Both of my bridesmaids told me that they were knocked up within a week of each other, my sister and bff, due within a week of each other, and would be about 6 months along the day of the wedding. Hello, maternity bridesmaid dresses, not my problem if they were kind of ugly right? My husband’s brother was supposed to be the best man, and got mad at him 2 weeks before and backed out. My mother in law was a pastor, and no one told me that she was mad that we didn’t ask her to marry us, until a year later, no wonder she gave me so much shit in the beginning.
Anyway, all ended well. I got married, and am still married, almost 9 years later. I have been with that guy longer then all the ex-wives combined, so maybe he wasn’t bullshitting me when he said that they were crazy…
I got married and it was hot and my now soon to be EX husband didn’t smile in a damn after-ceremony picture which should have told me something but I was pretty darn blind for like 8 years so I didn’t even notice.
Anyone want to buy a wedding dress?
Seriously, what the F am I going to do with that thing!
My 10 year anniversary is in 2 weeks and I though it would be pretty ironic if our divorce was finalized on that very day, but it’s not to be. He’ll just have our son that day.
Hey, you asked!
I loved my wedding, and I was not one of those Bridey people. I asked the bridesmaids to just wear black, because I didn’t want to have to pick out a dress for them. I went to the hairdresser the day of my wedding and said “do my hair, make it work”. We didn’t have favors. The only thing I wanted was a) to be married b) to have dancing and c) to let people have fun.
And I’m fine. Better than you, apparently. *steals Mimi from you*
I had a small “fancy” wedding. My family is still annoyed with me for a few reasons.
1) I was barefoot.
2) My bridesmaids were barefoot.
3) I didn’t have a single family member IN the wedding party.
Oh, and I didn’t let Hubs squish cake in my face.
And today? I have heartburn for the millionth day in a row. Blows.
I haven’t known how much a bushel is for over a fortnight. Or fourscore and seven years. Or so.
So nice to see that I am not the only bride who was dreading every little stupid decision and wishing we could just have a BBQ instead. Too much fuss and money to spend on one stinkin day. My crazy ass MIL(husband is an only child) threatened my life if we did not have a traditional wedding. But the honeymoon kicked ass.
I’m super, thanks for asking!
Your outfit the day after the wedding sounds a lot like my outfit the day after the prom. We’d gone to Galveston for the night, and while I remembered to bring shorts and a t-shirt for the ride home the next day, I had forgotten any regular shoes. I had to wear my white strappy (blech) sandals when we stopped to eat breakfast. Tres embarassing.
And this paragraph…”I never claimed to be brilliant, did I? Because that would be telling a lie that lying liars tell. And lies? Make The Baby Jesus cry.” is why I love reading your blog, Becky.
I’ve been married twice…The first one was a bust…A “starter marriage” if you will. The second one was awesome…He’s a keeper – but we had to pay for it since my folks had to sell their kidneys for the first one. We got hitched in Disney World. I highly recommend for anyone…..Just not in August. Hot as crap.
My wedding day was ever so perfect you see I married my husband TWICE yes once at the JOP before he deployed to sandland (iraq) and then again at the glorious catholic church I grew up in 2 years later….
I was 7 months preggo with my daughter when we got married at the JOP and that was uneventful except that laughed through the whole thing and puked all over the couort house stairs yes I had ALL PREGNANCY LONG SICKNESS
But my church wedding was nice and then there was the reception…. every thing was great until I was at the bar smoking a cigerette and my SIL broke it and said I was a bad mom and starting yelling and screaming at me saying I was not good enough for her brother I laughed it off but My cousin told her if she did not get out of my face that second she was gonna punch her a** out….. it was soooo funny… leave it to my hubby’s family
I was married in a hotel room at a resort in my home town, by a JP (in keeping with family tradition). We had the reception there as well. DH & I were just going to visit a JP in the town where we were living but my mom wanted me married at home where my grandmothers & the whole family could be there. I was living 6 hours away so I said ‘fine, it’s on you to plan it. No more than 50 people, here is a list of 20 of them, I’d like purple flowers good food and open bar. Other than that feel free to make whatever choices you want.” My sole involvement was approving the menu
I bought a fancy dress rather than a wedding gown & wore a wreath of flowers. DH forgot his tie & had to borrow the best man’s. One of my 2 attendants had a horrible anxiety attack right after the ‘i do’s’ and had to leave. DH & his two attendants were still drunk and/or hungover from the night before. It was a lot of fun
Doing great today, thanks for asking!
My wedding was one that Hubby love & I argued about for months. I was all about Vegas & Elvis. He, being Catholic, was not… So, since we lived in GA, all of his Catholic family in VT & my Southern Baptist family in FL, we decided to have a wedding in… GA. We had to get a JOP to marry us, lest we offend either side. After the shortest ceremony EVER- basically “Do you? Yep! Do you? Yep!”, we were married.
My family, being the white trash they are, decided they were going to party it up before the reception, while we were taking our formal pics. Now, the one thing I insisted on was the food- all BBQ (funny story about that, the guy who catered my wedding was a local legend for his BBQ. Ended up being a “front” for his drug business when he was arrested for murder execution style! Makes you wonder why the BBQ was so damned good). So, we had a whole roasted pig & beans & cole slaw & sweet tea. There was no liquor at my wedding, only a limited amount of champagne, which really pissed off my side of the family.
As soon as the guests were in the reception hall, my “step father” ran over to the pig & started doing obscene things to it (now, its just funny) & then opened a bottle of champagne while the cork FLEW across the room & hit my new neice in the head. Great way to introduce yourself there, buddy. The DJ forgets to introduce my Maid of Honor, mis-pronounces both my first name & new last name (of which my Grandma started yelling at him). Then the stupid ass DJ starts playing our wedding song, while I am in the bathroom! Now, once I get out & am totally raging, he explains, this isn’t your song “At last” by Etta James. This is “At last” by Celine Dion… Your song is next. Are you serious?!?
So, besides the normal crazy wedding drama that goes on, it wasn’t that bad… I still would have liked to go to Vegas. I’ll keep that in store for next time!
I’m not married yet, but will be soon. We want a JOP or Elvis, too. Or even at the freshwater 12-tank “aquarium” in the small LA town where we met. Who cares? It’s OUR day, right? Well, Mommy dearest is requiring us to have some sort of reenactment ceremony and reception for friends and family. Bah! So it’s gonna be a pot-luck, baby. You wanna eat? Then bring some food! I’ll wear a dress, you have 10 min. for photos, then screw that! Hubby and I are already married, just not legally and “in eyes of the the Lord,” so we’ve got to appease the state and church, though he and I are cool with our cuurent arrangement.
But your wedding, Becky — wowsers! Talk about memorable!
And I’m stressed — have a graduate final paper to write. No fun!
Dear Aunt Becky, (I feel a little strange addressing you as such because #1 I really do have an Aunt Becky and #2 I am 10 years **cry** your senior.
From this day forward I vow NOT to read your blog while at work. It makes me snort and make strange keening sounds in an effort to control laughing out loud….not very appropriate behavior in this civil engineering firm.
My parents offered me $25,000 to put towards a honeymoon, house, furnishings, hookers, blow…whatever I wanted to spend it on or have A BIG WEDDING. With all of my 18 (almost 19 years) of knowledge (no, I wasn’t knocked up) I chose THE BIG WEDDING.
I look back on that decision and think – What a fucktard!!! All that planning, time, money, SWEAT (when you get married in friggin July), family drama for one day….and I could have been knee deep in hookers and blow in Vegas.
Well…anyway….that was 20 years ago…and while I may regret the wedding day …I’ve never regretted a minute since. I did find the only man on this planet that will put up with my bullshit everyday.
I’m off like a prom dress Aunt Becky….enjoy the hell out of your day!
Today, I am waiting for the Dr. office to call me back, which y’know, is always fun. I look back at my wedding and am grateful for the wonderful, stress-free day, (aside from my cousins lighting a centerpiece on fire, but that was actually hilarious), but I often think about what I could do with all that money….
A wedding like that would have been a NIGHTMARE for me. I’m so glad Kent gave in when I insisted we get married in our living room.
You have the most interesting life of anyone I (sort of) know. Seriously.
The only thing I can think of is that when I was a wee one my Gram used to say, “I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck!” She was the best, so I’m guessing a bushel is a lot…
My wedding day was uneventful (except that I asked the best man if my soon-to-be husband was there. Insecure much?). We just wanted to be married and now we are. I’m thinking about making Mr. MOTH renew our vows for our 10th anniversary (in two years) because I want the kids to see it. They seem a little mad that they weren’t at OUR wedding when they have to go to others…
That is one hell of a story Aunt Becky. You definitely have got me beat with that.
I’m flipping tired today. I had crazy, talk in my sleep dreams last and that makes for jack in the sleep department.
Tropical Storm Arlene made her appearance at my OUTDOOR wedding. I got married under some very sturdy green funderal home tents. But the reception was a blast since only the die hards came out in the storm to party.
I’ve been trying and trying to convince my fiance to just elope! That way we don’t have to spend all our money (yes, we’re paying for the wedding) on a single day! But, he’s a single child, somewhat religious and I have gotten no where.
Instead I’m attempting to plan a smallish wedding that fits our budget… But if it was only up to me, we’d already have signed papers at city hall and had a big BBQ somewhere after.
oh, but other than that, I’m great today! Its FRIDAY after all 🙂
I’m crappy today. Thanks
A bushel is equivalent to 42 pounds of turnips 🙂
How am I today? I feel like my eyelids are trying to lift bowling balls.
And wedding? You know me, I WILL get married TO an Elvis impersonator (the hot, young one) BY an Elvis impersonator (The old fat one).
I’m so glad I found your blog, you crack me up! Much needed humor!
Now normally I wouldn’t be all cheered up by reading another’s misfortune (well okay sometimes I am, depending) but given that I was struck down with the mightiest case of Food Poisoning this side of bad Mexican water on my Special Day, it makes me right smile-y to read about your chest cold and ER trip!
Some highlights of my personal nightmare, er, beautiful wedding:
*I was what they like to call OBE in the hospital – that stands for open both ends, meaning, well, what you think it means. NOT so easy to race for the ladies’ room when you got a gorgeous bazillion dollar train and floor length satin going on either I might add.
*I was totally unable to eat or drink ANY of the amazing food. I didn’t have a single bite of my lovely cake. I sipped Gatorade. And still threw up.
*Covergirl Outlast lipstick really does outlast ANYthing. That means copious bridal vomiting too! Why they aren’t marketing that feature, I will never know.
*I was so sick we missed our flight to our honeymoon. The upside is that the lady at the ticket counter felt so bad (hey, I was still a lovely shade of green) that she didn’t charge us to change our departure and we got a few extra days of vacation.
Sooooo, I totally sympathize with miserable brides! I’m sort of glad I’m not the only smart, lovely girl who had a stupid start to her married life! Hurrah for Aunt Becky!
Hi Aunt Becky!
Well, I’m just dandy today. Thank you for asking! I just got home from a playgroup, where in my preoccupation with keeping my 2yr old daughter from breaking something I forgot about what a graceless ass *I* am myself. Broke a trashcan lid. Sigh. You can dress me up but…. Wait, you can’t even dress me up.
As for my wedding … Well, I just got married this month. On the tenth anniversary of our first date. At the local PRISON. Mmmhmm. That’s where the JP’s office was. So I got myself all dolled up, got bouquets for me and my daughter, and we all went to the jail and got hitched. Hubs said he found the setting eerily appropriate. Hardi-har-har. He wore our daughter on his back in a baby carrier so she would be hardpressed to wreack havoc during the short ceremony. Halfway through, she started saying “EXCUSE me” over and over – punctuating each bid for attention with a headbutt to the back of her Daddy’s head . 🙂 We snapped a few pics outside the “correctional center” and then headed over to JCPenney for a photo shoot. Yeah baby. Style … we gotz it! After that, we left our daughter with a sitter for the very first time and went out for a wonderful meal at a swanky restaurant.
I loved your story, but the cat pee does sound like a mood killer. 😛
I’m having one of those slow, rainy days, thanks for asking!
All these stories make me, feverish during my reception weekend, sound like a pansy-ass. We eloped the year before and it was perfect. But we like throwing parties, so we did that too, certainly not cheap, but a once in a lifetime opportunity to drag all your friends to you from all over the world.
Pneumonia sounds horrid. I broke a rib coughing with bronchitis, definitely sucks.
I got married on the 3rd of July in a gazebo in front of the courthouse by the justice of the peace.
The most expensive thing at our wedding was the cake, which to me was the most important. My husband still bitches about how much that cake cost. I wore a blue sundress, my husband was in khaki pants and a white polo shirt. My daughter was 4 months old. We had only invited close friends and my parents.
That was the part that worried me. My parents are divorced and have remarried. They hadn’t seen each other, not to mention the “new” spouses, since some very unhealthy family happinings that I won’t go into that happened 2 years prior.
My dad got a parking ticket. We barely avoided one because my hubbo is quick and ran over and wiped the chalk off of the tire while they were writing my dad’s ticket.
Then we left my daughter with my dad and his new wife and took off to the local Chilie’s for our snazzy wedding dinner just the two of us, but for first time parents of a 4 month old we were just excited to *eat* a meal. We stayed at a very nice hotel overnight and instead of crazy *newly wedded this is no longer a sin* woopie we slept like we hadn’t slept in a while.
Romantic, right?
Anywhoo… I’m doing great, thanks, considering summer break isn’t over… YET. I’ve only been counting down since the last day of school.
I loved my wedding and my giant, sparkly princess rig…including 20 pound dress, hoop skirt, tiara and floor length veil…but if I had to do it all over I would have said fuck it all and just gotten married barefoot on the beach in Grand Cayman (where we honeymooned) with the resort staff as witnesses.
Then we could’ve stayed an extra week and I would have FINISHED pickling my liver with Bacardi 151 instead of just starting the job. I think I drank more rum than Captain Jack Sparrow in those 10 days, but I could’ve made it all the way to Keith Richards.
Sigh. SO many missed opportunites.
UHG! That sounds pleasant. You should have stood outside the hospital askin if anyone “was lookin for a good time” in that outfit. Then you could’ve paid your ER bill AND got LOADS of vicodin.
I’m doing well. Getting ready to talk to a counselor at MY college because apparently nobody knows how to answer a phone. I’ll stalk the bitches to get what I need, just WATCH me get this shit DONE!
*HUGS*
ugh – i had pneumonia a couple months ago & it was no fun! can’t imagine dealing with it on ur honeymoon! did the antis at least kick in & make it so u were able 2 enjoy urself?
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Aw Becky, I so know how you feel. I always felt like there was this whole magical dimension of stress and stuck-up-ness and somehow knowing how to be a Bridely Bride that I completely missed.
I still had a great day because my friends really know how to party and well, you know, I married the hottest sweetest smartest funniest guy in the world (no offense to your Daver)… but this is my favourite picture of my wedding:
http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/cUnFFx_MBNpXZ6THhrOCXg?feat=directlink
It’s my “piss off please, I have a moment for myself now” picture 😀
I have a headache…that is how I am today.
My nephews best friend went to Vegas a couple months ago and was married by an Elvis. The bride wore the cutest short short white dress, and he, I think, was in some kind of t-shirt. Oh….and I’m sure he had on some pants too. They had a fabulous time. Being somewhat old fashioned about weddings, we were a little surprised that she was up for it. Thought maybe it was all Dan-ho’s idea. Turns out it was mostly her’s! While I would be disappointed if my kids (daughter mostly) did not do the whole fantastic wedding dress that I of course get full approval on, I would support whatever they decided to do. Son has threatened a couple different wedding scenarios…..he in a kilt (he’s part scottish) she in a kimono (she obviously is part japanese)…or….god forbid….they want to have an 80’s themed wedding….oiy…..guess she can just borrow my dress from 83! I told him that if they do that she has to go all the way and wear a hat/veil and cowboy boots…..(i did not wear those though!)
Oh, weddings. My anniversary is coming up in two weeks, and I hate that I look back on my wedding day with a complete “meh” attitude.
Let’s see…I felt forced to include my sister-in-law in my bridal party even though she spent my bachelorette party texting her boyfriend the entire time.
I had to get my hair done in an itty bitty town’s hair salon, and it looked awful (I later found out the hairdresser working on my then 12-year-old sister’s hair talked about her abusive exes…awesome!).
The “bridal room” at the church was really just a movable room separator that divided a sitting area and the restrooms, so nearly all of my guests tromped back and forth to the bathrooms and poked their head in to see me.
As I walked into the church, my mom slipped on the freshly waxed church floor and broke her wrist. Yeah. Let that set in a for a while…Ok, then. My in-laws rushed her to the ER, we delayed the start of the ceremony 30 minutes, the ER did an amazing patch job and loaded my mom with drugs (they truly were awesome), and we were able to start.
My step-dad tried to record our wedding with a handheld camera with no tripod, which resulted in a Blair Witch-esque capture of my wedding that I can hardly stomach watching (truly, it makes me feel nauseated).
And the thing that breaks my heart the most? My DJ sucked. So. Bad. And all I ever planned for my wedding was a kick ass party where no one stopped dancing, myself especially. Instead, Douchebag McGee kept asking about the Cubs score, planning line dances (besides being explicitly told NOT to play those), screwing up my father-daughter dance, blaming my clearly typed out list of songs for the screw up, and packing it up 30 minutes early. Asshole. I don’t think I’ll ever look back on that part of my wedding without regret. Melodramatic? Maybe. But when you consider that my husband and I busted our ass to pay for our wedding ourselves, and that the only thing I really wanted was a good DJ, I feel justified in being pissed off to this day.
How am I today? It’s 5:15 PM and you’re the first one who asked.
I’m out of ideas, how do you think I am?
Ah, sounds like my wedding day. I waddled down the aisle, 7 months pregnant in my overweight sister’s borrowed wedding dress, towards my moron-fiancee, who had decided he was the next Eminem and bleached his hair platinum blond. (Don’t you know how elegant that looked with our silver and red decorations!)
I moved out three months later and he’s thoroughly ex-ified, but at least I got to eat some really good cake at the reception.
You’re soooo lucky! (smell the sarcasm), I got married in Walhalla, South Carolina. This is the place that all north georgia brides go when they get pregnant at 15 and need to get married all quick like. Except, I was 22 and had a nine month old son and paid for the wedding rings myself. (Hello, run-on sentence much??)
Anyway, I foolishly thought getting married would make my man toe the line and love me even more.
13 years later, I have seen the light. Let me introduce her to you, her name is C and she is the love of my life…Irony is perfect!
I’m much better after laughing my ass off at this post – thank you! Let’s see, I fought with my husband pre-ceremony, he fought with his mother post-ceremony, and by the time I got all the effin’ bobby pins out of my hair that night, hubby was fast asleep and I was too tired to care. Yeah, we just screamed romance.
I’m not married as of yet. But I’m considering eloping. Otherwise my goal is to have a wedding dress that I don’t have to get help going to the bathroom in.
I’m supposed to be packing for a trip to Illinois instead I’m reading blogs, listening to chinese music, and sitting on the floor
I love your site:) Gives me sooo much to smile about! Come say hi at mommyspaceblog.blogspot.com
no proper wedding here. did i want one, um not really, do i wish i had one, um yeah kinda. but after this, maybe we were smarter than you two. love your description coming out of the er, i can totally see you….
M’eh not so bad today, thankyouverymuch. Office closed @ 12, I left @3.
My wedding was exactly opposite of what I wanted (I wanted small, at night inside what I got was big at noon outside), but my mother INSISTED on paying for it so I stopped arguing. Then she spent the next few years bitching about how much it cost and why couldn’t I have chosen something cheaper. ummm…..
I played cribbage in the church basement with my best man until right before the wedding.
However, the best wedding story I have is from my sister’s wedding, where I did a rap – complete with beat box – to Rockit by Herbie Hancock (it was 1988).
I wanted a party with a 10 minute intermission for my (2nd) wedding. My sister (10 years younger than me) decided I wanted Barbie’s Dream Wedding. So I sprained my ankle and had to wear sneakers with the aircast for the wedding and she got all pissy that I wasn’t in heals. About then I snapped and told her if she didn’t shut the hell up I was getting married in jeans and an I’m With Stupid t-shirt. I think she believed me because there wasn’t another word out of her.
I hated being the center of attention on my wedding day. I hate posing for cheesy pictures (I wanted to mock pose the entire time) and I hated that my wedding was really for my parents – I didn’t know half the people there. And oh, I was on drugs that day. Otherwise I would have passed out (although it wouldn’t have mattered, since I would have been suspended in mid-air by my dress).
And I thought I was the only bride that got sick just in time for the wedding. It was a lovely head/chest cold with sinus infection. We spent our honeymoon travelling from pharmacy to pharmacy keeping me supplied in Sudafed and cough syrup. Except for that, the wedding was exactly what I wanted. Although, sometimes I wish we went for the double wedding with our friends — the four of us, a priest, and a rabbi on space mountain…
Since you asked, I’m in a shitty mood because I have nearly-16-yr-old daughter. And a headache.
When I got married (both times) I refused to spend money to feed my family because I absolutely hated all of them. The second time, we ate Arby’s for dinner and I spent the rest of the evening making stuffing for Thanksgiving the next day. It rawked. I’ve never regretted it.
I didn’t know I didn’t want a wedding until the wedding planning was underway, and there was no stopping the wedding planning is underway train. I had absolutely zero opinions on anything, and who knew the bride was supposed to have opinions? I mean, we went to taste cakes (with our mothers – god, what douchebags). My opinion on cake? YES, PLEASE. I was not very helpful. Would totally never have a wedding again.
Oh, Mrs. David Harks? I’m sorry about the sickness. But you got a good man anyway.
I had a hippie wedding – though I was wearing shoes.
A tip for the future if you want a small no-fuss wedding…ready? Only give everyone 12 days notice! Worked for me. No really, I swear. Hubs and I had gotten engaged and told everyone it’d be a long engagement. About 8 months later, I got accepted to a university in Australia so we were moving out of the country and decided we should get married before we go. Now my family is little and laid back but Hubs’ family is a huge Jewish family (the first Thanksgiving I attended for his family had 43 people and it was only direct family and not everyone was there!). So while my Dad told me when I was 16 that when I got married he was giving me a couple grand and sending us all to Vegas, his family was expecting something big.
So we went and filled out the marriage license application and then called both our parents and literally said, “How’s next Wed for ya?” Because his family is so big, we banned everyone from the wedding except my parents and my best friend and his parents, sister, one set of grandparents and 3 of his friends. If we invited a single additional person, it turned into a 300 person wedding (all living grandparents were invited btw, only one set was well enough to come). It created a bit of panic among the family but they were all met with, “We’d love to have you. But if we invite you, we have to invite all these people on this side of the family and all these people on the other side of the family. We can’t afford it. If you want to cover the cost of having all these people, then you can come.” They all had stories about having expanding weddings out of their control so they understood eventually.
So we had 11 loved ones on a beach in Malibu barefoot and super chill. It was great. I required my dad to wear a Hawaiin shirt since he’s been telling me since I was little that when I got married, even if it was super formal, he was showing up in a pair of shorts and a Hawaiin shirt regardless. Since Dad was guaranteed to wear one, I told everyone else they could too (Hubs friends didn’t believe he was marrying a woman encouraging everyone to show up that casual to her WEDDING even though they knew me well. It was hilarious.). I spent $150 on a dress. My only bride requirements were to have my makeup done (I didn’t want to think about it) which was $125 to have someone come to my apt and fix me up and a professional photographer so my photographer hubby didn’t spend the whole time behind the camera making sure his friends were doing it right (since he worked for an amazing photographer previously, the guy agreed to do it for $350 cash and gave us a DVD with all the shots on it, no buying x-amount of prints or any of it). After the wedding, we all went out to lunch at an upscale beach-side seafood place.
A month later we had a reception, BBQ-style around the pool at our apt (for which almost 200 people showed up for) with everyone bringing either alcohol or food. A friend made us an amazing three-tiered cake filled with three types of homemade jam and covered in oragami swans with 2 swans as toppers each with a pattern she felt reflected something in us. It was awesome for our guests. Stressful on us because I woke up sick as a dog, fever-ish so I was totally out of it even after medication and for every 45 minutes we spent hosting, Hubs had to whisk me back to back for 20 minutes to recover. Oh and Mom hit the magarita machine a little hard (and a little early) and got, um, emotional and frantic about how I was “neglecting” my hosting duties at my own reception. But hey, happens to the best of us at one point or another. Margarita machines are trouble waiting for a place to happen really. But overall, if we had to do it again, we both would do it the same. It’s a shame to hear so many stories of women not enjoying weddings. I got a lot of flack for not wanting a big extravaganza with the whole “next Wed” wedding, like I was missing some essential female component.
Try having a non Vegas wedding when you live in Vegas. We wanted a fun wedding. Mom and I surprised many people, when we got the flowers we told them I wanted purple. That was my only requirement. Cake? We wanted it to be tasty. White with some sort of decoration was fine by us, we didn’t even bother with a cake top. We did have an open bar and karaoke. And the tables were decorated in a football theme. Everyone had fun and the food was good, and we were married. We were pretty unstressed about the whole thing.
Yeesh! The only thing that happened at my wedding was my matron of honor’s mother tripped on the dance floor and broke a wrist. Wow! I was lucky!
Dear Mrs. D H:
In answer to your question, “a bushel” is one (note the indefinite article “a”). Just as “a peck” is also one. So, “a bushel and a peck” is simply two, but different ones. Clear now?
Sincerely,
Mr. W M
P.S. The Daver owes you. Big time.
P.P.S. My father-in-law offered me cash to elope with Mrs. W M. I held out for more $$ and he called my bluff, so I paid a waiter at the reception to spill some of the jus from the au jus on him. The waiter missed and got my mother-in-law, who was already not happy because I had nixed the chicken dance, instead. Best. Day. Ever.
P.P.P.S. Let me know if you need more help with math, I’m a whiz.
P.P.P.P.S. I regret nixing the chicken dance, but nothing else.
I HATE the smell of cat pee. And we have had some down the back of our sofa for about ten years now. I never smell it, unless some unwitting visitor sits down in that particular spot (we have learned not to use that sofa) and sits there too long. Then they leave the house smelling of cat pee. And I’m too embarrassed to tell them not to sit in that place.
We’re planning to get a new sofa some time in the next five years. When our cats peed on it, they were only kittens and the sofa was a few weeks old.
Now the internet knows everything about me. Cat pee and all.
Dude… I can totally relate! I got yelled at for not smiling enough during our wedding and during my bridal shower… I’m just not a smiley person when I’m the center of attention. I’m too worried about looking fat. LOL I hate HATE being the center of attention. We totally regret wasting so much $$ on a wedding (it wasn’t even big) because we could have totally gotten like a apple laptop with that money. And if that isn’t the geekiest thing you ever heard, I don’t know what is. The best part of the whole thing? Open. Bar.
Yuck! Those wedding dresses are dangerous, mine was so heavy it gave me bruises, I went to Jamacia looking like some woman who had fallen down a flight of stairs, not pretty.
We rented a community hall. My sister did the flowers – which we bought at the Public Market the day before the wedding. My brother did the catering. Himself found an Episcopal priest through the Men’s Wisdom Council in Seattle. Our best man had a jazz trio that played our reception (our song was “Melt with You” – and that song really lends itself well to a jazz arrangement)…and our reception ended up being a jam session. There was booze and food and dancing…and very little stress. Not too shabby.
I wanted to elope too but my gay husband wanted a wedding so that’s what he got. I planned everything because I’m a control freak which is why I didn’t want a wedding in the first place. Whatever.
That story once again reminds me why I invited 16 people to my wedding. I too could not figure out how to get stressed about flowers and place cards and bands and whatnot. Luckily my husband felt the same way (can’t say the same for our family but…interestingly, I also could not figure out how to get stressed about that).
we wanted to elope… psycho step MIL pulled one of her famous moves and suddenly my elopement to Antigua turned into married in my living room and a sit down dinner for 150 and lets not even get started on the gold fish… gah
Before I even start my story may I say your post was hilarious and the comments match. I don’t usually read through comments but I had a feeling on this one…
So, wedding #1. It was 1978 and I was finishing grad school. When I told my family “X” proposed, they swung into action even as I protested about the cost of weddings. My mother informed me she had been saving up for this since I was born (this is the woman who couldn’t help me with tuition when I ran short during college). We ended up agreeing she could control EVERYTHING. My only assignment was to get my wedding dress. And yes, it had to be traditional.
Fast forward to five days before the wedding. I stopped by my mom’s house and my older sister cornered me when my mom left the room. “Where’s the dress?” she accused more than asked. I just looked at her and said “Did I tell you how the defense of my thesis went last week?” When my mom returned to the room my sister announced she and I were going out to run wedding errands.
We got in the car, my sister looked like her head was going to explode but she didn’t say anything. We drove downtown (no malls – remember, 1978) and began going through various women’s stores. She wasted no time, as soon as we walked in she would say “Do you have any left-over white, size 2 prom dresses?” The fourth store we finally scored – they actually had two! And they were 75% off! We walked out the door with an exceptable dress and my sister finally spoke to me – “You are such a nimrod, I have no idea why I’m getting you out of this mess.”
The wedding day wasn’t much better. Three hours before the wedding was to start my out-of-town relatives arrived at my parents’ house to find me reading the paper in my pajamas. After much freaking out at my seeming lack of interest I got over to the church to get ready. As I stood at the door of the chapel preparing to walk down the aisle my father looked at me and said “I hope you know what you are doing.”
I have no memory whatsoever of the ceremony, the cake, the decorations or much of anything about this wedding. The reception was planned by my mother so there was no music or dancing, just food. If not for the fact I was wearing a floor length white dress I would have sworn I was attending someone else’s wedding….
The marriage lasted 10 moths – what a surprise.
Wedding #2 was much better. We got married at the courthouse in Seattle in 1993 by a very funny judge who gamely posed for silly pictures I still have (did I mention the professionally shot pictures from the first wedding were lost in the mail?) and our only witnesses were a few of our friends. The only drama involved our decision that we could find the wedding rings at one of the art galleries downtown before the wedding, not being realistic about any gallery having two of the same style rings that would fit both of us. But we prevailed, we managed to go to work half a day, find rings in two hours and get married by 5:00 pm on a Friday. Party followed five months later after our first child was born.
That one lasted 15 plus years. And it was true love, sadly we couldn’t overcome our personal issues. I’m a relatively new single mom of teenagers (which should answer your question of how my day has been). And I have no regrets.
See, this is why I don’t believe in marriage. Apparently it gives you pneumonia…
OMG, I was sick on my wedding day too! I didn’t get pneumonia, but I did lose my voice the day before thanks to my first chest cold ever (I usually get head colds). At least I got big laughs when I whispered “I will” into the pastor’s body mike.
Like you, I was stricken with pre-marital stupidity and didn’t call a doctor until the morning of the wedding and that was only because we ran into one of the guests who saw an episode of Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe where he got a shot in his vocal chords to temporarily cure his laryngitis. No shot for me, but the doctor gave me antibiotics and steroids that kept me going.
Our honeymoon was in a country where I speak the language and my husband doesn’t. Fortunately, the French tend to speak quietly anyway, so my whispering didn’t seem too strange.
We eloped and it was awesome. It was me, him, my parents, his mom and the Marriage Commissioner in MC’s study. Fifteen minutes later we were done–no rings, no white dress or black tux. We drove a few blocks over to a city park and took some pictures in the gardens, which…well, his mom cuts off heads in photos, dad’s shutter was stuck, so the right third of all his shots were black, mum’s camera lens was dirty and hubby’s camera was loaded with ancient b/w film. Our “album” makes me smile, tho’, because that’s who we are, kwim?
Growing up I assumed I’d do the proper wedding thing, but it turns out the Who and Why was more important than the How. I didn’t want to A)Plan a big too-do or B) Wait. We found the rings we loved later, I’ve reworn my (black!) dress and I’m still happy we did it how we did.
**the only thing I know about bushels comes from the showtune “I Love You (A Bushel and a Peck)”**
Sounds like you had one big day.