9.02.2011

The ceremony.

Post-wedding, hotel room shot.
Though I'm an extrovert, I don't like being the center of attention much. I'm a decent singer, but can't do karaoke. And I can speak publicly, so long as the content of my speech is the focus.

So you can understand that the prospect of having a string quartet announce your arrival while you're hoping that your hair, dress, make-up and shoes are holding up well, is a bit daunting. Not to mention the fact that everyone's just LOOKING at you, EXPECTING your emotion. Even reveling in it! Because who doesn't like seeing real emotion? In a world of reality television, authentic tears are endangered.

So as my Dad and I turned the corner to come down the aisle, I broke the fourth wall. I waved to everyone. And in that way, everyone laughed, or smiled at least, and I could laugh a little -- and in that way, I felt less like an actor and more like a member of the group.

So there you are on your Dad's left arm, and you look up towards the minister, towards the place where the bushes come together poetically, towards your best ladies and the dudes you know so well. And suddenly, this SUPER-HOT COMPUTER PROGRAMMER is standing there! (Oxymoron? No!) And he is waiting for you to stop waving at everyone and get the hell down the aisle! And you just have this moment like, "whoah. WHOAH. whoah."

Our minister had us face the crowd the entire time, which was lovely because I could look out and see individuals. My aunt looked awesome! Maddy and Katie were there and so was Fanny and Sima! And all of the Arc peeps and I remember seeing my High School buddies towards the back. It was like one of those dream sequences when you wake up and think "what the hell was my Aunt Jean doing in the same place as some of my residents from 3rd floor Prosser?", except it's your wedding day. Total dream.

Our minister was so, so wonderful. She was charming and funny and most of all, calm. She told a story about having emailed us several days earlier to ask why we loved the other and why we wanted to get married. It was the first time I'd heard what Chris wrote and it's an understatement to say that the man is, himself, an amazing and thoughtful writer.

I remember my sister crying and my mom crying. I only cried a little when Skersh read the e.e. cummings poem that I've always dreamed would be read at my wedding. I remember reading that poem out loud when I lived with roommates just a block from where I live now. I remember wondering who those words would apply to one day, hoping very much that I might just find a nice guy to be my best friend.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

I remember that Chris had trouble getting my ring on but that his slid on pretty easily. I remember that he got choked up during the vows and I looked hard into his eyes, willing him on, being strong. I remember looking over and seeing Evelyn looking pretty with her cello. 

And then the minister said "Jennifer, you may kiss your groom," and I whooped in my heart for feminism and kissed him. Then she pronounced us married and we walked down the aisle and high-fived.

Because all of that? It sure did deserve a high-five.

[Coming soon: the party...]

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