The day I became a Mrs {First installment}

It has been exactly three weeks since the old Mister and I tied the knot.  It’s crazy to think we have been married, as in Mr. and Mrs., as in THIS IS WHAT I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR FOR THREE YEARS for three weeks already.  Whew. Time flies.  But now that the dust has settled (and I have officially used that figure of speech shmatrillion times on this blog as an excuse to not have to write anything) I think the time has come to begin the story telling of the wedding day.

Obviously the day began early because, hello, who can sleep the night before their wedding?! Speaking of the night before the wedding, the rehearsal went great except for a huge *bleep*-up by the coordinator of our venue who failed to mention until like, 5 seconds before the rehearsal, that there was a huge community party on Friday. In the lawn where our wedding was. During the time we had scheduled for the rehearsal. Complete with beer tents and a country western band. Yee-haw, y’all! Bridezilla was on the loose in 3-inch heels, and no one wants to mess with Bridezilla in 3-inch heels!!! We had enough notice to throw together a makeshift rehearsal Thursday morning, which turned out to be a total disaster and drove me to drinking, but as they say in theater, a bad dress rehearsal means opening night will be perfect. And there’s no amount of *bleep*-ups that cannot be remedied with wine.  Those two theories in hand, I made it to Friday night’s rehearsal which, save the misplacement of our run-through, went swimmingly. Dinner at Ruth’s Chris afterwards was so lovely and a great, intimate time for us to spend with our bridal party and families before the big hubbub the next day.  Beautiful words were spoken, delicious food was consumed, and gifts were shared.  Major props to my new in-laws for putting together such a bomb rehearsal.  The only problem with the whole night was the gas baby that had been gestating for 4 days prior to the wedding that prohibited my ability to scarf down copious amounts of perfectly grilled filet and mashed potatoes.  Sigh.  Fart.

'Zilla giving orders. Or flicking someone off. Nobody knows.

Me with my lovely Honorary Bridesmaids 🙂

So back to the morning of.  Gas baby was still alive and well. Kicking with a vengeance, even.  Not to worry, I had my dad load me up with every type of gastrointestinal medical remedy known to WebMD.  And then I took them all at the same time.  If tummy medicine had the same effect as alcohol, I would have been 3 sheets to the wind. Or 5 or 11. But since it doesn’t, instead it just bound me up more, HOORAY!!! I have never been a nervous person for big events, but people, your wedding does things to you that are inexplicable and uncharacteristic. And for good reason, I mean, Hello. It is your wedding, not some high school musical.  Apparently my body gets nervous in the form of bathroom breaks in 5 minute intervals. CUTE!

So up at 6:00 AM I was, drinking coffee on the porch as usual, sniffling my way through several “Last” moments at home as a single gal.  As per her promise the night before to rescue me from pre-wedding boredom and loss of sanity, Kate came over and, well, kept me sane.  Kate and I had an ongoing debate prior to the wedding about the importance of wedding shoes.  Obviously I think wedding shoes are important, or I wouldn’t have bought a kratrillion pairs.  However, the ones I settled on had crappy support and I knew that I knew that I knew that these shoes would be the end of me if I wore them all night. Kate, however, made it very clear that were I to take my shoes off or replace them at any point during the evening, all hell would break loose and the wedding would be ruined because HELLO the shoes are VITAL PIECES OF THE WARDROBE PUZZLE and without them, the outfit is ruined OMG!  So when my knight in shining pajama pants arrived on Saturday morning to babysit me for a few hours, without missing a beat she announced “I am here to save your balls” and just like that, we were on our way to CVS to pay a visit to Dr. Scholl. If you don’t have a friend like that, you need to go get one, STAT. If nothing else, it sure took the edge off to hear her say the word balls. Heh heh. And to think I got married with this level of immaturity.

Next up: Pre-wedding primping and ceremony!


6 responses to “The day I became a Mrs {First installment}

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