"Dingmoonment"

Wanna Buy a Wedding Dress?

2009-11-15T21:09:00.002-05:00

Gratitude-moon Quickly Approaching!

2009-11-10T07:07:00.002-05:00

We are just 11 days from our Gratitude-moon, the belayed and delated Thanksgiving honeymoon of the century! We will be staying in the Mission with friends from November 21 to November 28, hugging redwoods and drinking coffee in Golden Gate Park. Any bay-area bridal bloggers who want to meet up for some beverages please say, "I!"

The Transition

2009-10-25T14:31:00.003-04:00

By midnight, almost three quarters of folks were gone. Once anyone approached me after ten PM, I knew they were just going to say goodbye. I started to develop symptoms of Post Goodbye Stress Disorder. I was hyper-sensitive to people approaching me. I started to scheme that if maybe I didnt let anyone near me, they couldnt say goodbye and wouldnt, therefore, leave. But, it didnt work.

Then Kelly and her wife said they were leaving. You really know the party is over when the photographers leave. I wanted to tell them to wait, because I wanted them to take some pictures of everyone toasting smores over the tiki torches. I had spent so much time saying goodbye to everyone, that I hadnt gotten to the smores yet, but it was late and Kelly had already put in a 12 hour day. Plus, I hadnt even taken the time to let them know that I wanted smores pictures.

The DJ wound down and, once the diehards left around 12:30, I started to wander around cleaning up. Lauren had long since passed out. I ate a smores by myself. Then another. It started to drizzle. The shiny wedding feelings were wearing off. I drank a beer and started another, but couldnt finish it. It seemed like I spent half the night saying hello and the other half of the night saying goodbye and now it was over. The second guesses and small regrets started seeping in. I gathered up all the lanterns and packed them away.

Then, after being told two or three times to stop cleaning, I decided to follow directions. I got my head together and took a breath. I took a quick inventory of what I needed in order to make this transition from bride to wife, from anticipation to nostalgia, from party time to bed time. I gathered some candles from the tables and a couple of pork muffins. I got the laptop. I went upstairs to our bedroom, turned off the lights, lit the candles and snuggled up to my wife, who had so thoroughly enjoyed her joy and was now snoring with a wet head and a clean t-shirt and skivvies. I updated my relationship status and my last name on Facebook and said good night to the blog. I blew out all the candles but one and went to bed.

Open Bar

2009-10-14T06:27:00.003-04:00

I'm the lush in the family. Coming from a long line of addicts, drinkers and tipplers of all stripes, I could really hold my liquor, especially in my youth. More than that, I really love getting drunk. For about an hour, it's the funnest thing ever.

But, then, especially in my old age, there's the hangover and the spotty memory. I did not want to get drunk at my wedding. I wanted to remember everything, I wanted to experience everything, I wanted to remain upright. Lauren didn't want me to drink either. In our relationship, I'm the one that drops 60 bucks on drinks, butterflies around all night and then gets taken home by some kind, patient person, usually her.

She was also of the wedding opinion that we needed to be very careful to spend enough time with one another, to carve out moments of privacy and quiet to be together and boy did I balk at that. All of my dearest friends in town for one night only!? In spite of the differences of opinion and the history, we didn't make promises or set expectations for the reception. We were aware of what the other usually does, we were aware of what we hoped would happen and left it at that.

Our wedding night turned out to be the perfect role reversal. I had three drinks in twice as many hours, while Lauren had countless. I was the one trotting around trying to organize and arrange and it was all I could do track her down for reception formalities -- cake, dance, toss -- because she was off cavorting with her friends. But, the awesome part about it was that I felt not one iota of wanting to be drunk, not one iota of irritation for her absence. It was as if all of my longing to be free and happy by drinking was erased because I actually felt free and happy and all of her longing to organize and control were erased because she actually felt free and happy, so she got soused.

Me and her sisters took turns taking care of her, she said and did lots of cute things. Unfortunately I don't have permission to share the photos which do the most justice for the situation because they involve toilets and a search for pants.

As far as the guests are concerned, they guzzled bunches. The next morning we had, like, a case of Bud and a case of red wine remaining.

Please enjoy photos of all of the drunkies (me excluded!) below.

The Final Countdown

2009-10-12T10:38:00.003-04:00

This week promises to be the last week at Dingmoonment for quite some time. I have a couple more posts about the end of the evening, as well as the role that getting drunk played in the evening, and maybe a fond farewell retrospective type post welcoming travelers who will come down this path behind me, but, for the time being, Dingmoonment will be defunct. You'll see me back in these parts come pregnancies or mortgages. Pregbirthhood, anyone? Conpreghood? Concepnantbirth?

In other news, Lauren and I may very well be able to get legally married in DC on our first wedding anniversary. Yay for David Catania and the DC City Council!

Toss Off!

2009-10-09T15:10:00.013-04:00

I never got around to buying a garter for Lauren, probably because she was so ambivalent about, or, rather, totally against it, and partly because I couldnt find one I liked. The day before the wedding, I told Lauren she should throw her boutonniere and she said, "But I want to keep it." I was like, "OMG we gotta do something!" Because I really wanted to do something.

Then, the next morning, the florist delivered two bouts. Lauren gave the extra to her dad and decided she would throw hers, which made me happy, especially because she was doing it to make me happy. Then her sister tried to create a bouquet conspiracy in which I purposely threw the bouquet to her so we could "keep it in the family". I felt very pressured, but didn't cave.

When the time came, it seemed like too much trouble to separate boys from girls and the marrieds from couples. So, we asked all of our guests to gather round, turned our backs on them, placed our heels at the edge of the deck like Olympic divers and counted down. And we certainly made no pretense that catching something meant anything about the future of your marital status. Of course, each flowery thing was caught by a girl and one of those girls was Lauren's sister. I couldnt win for trying.

So, once we got rid of all the crap regarding sex, gender, power and the craze to be married associated with the tossing of things at wedding receptions, we were left with 1.) the fun of throwing the f@ck out of the thing I gingerly clutched with kid gloves all dang day, 2.) the fun of watching people snatching, 3.) the thrill of victory and 4.) the agony of defeat, which you can view below.

Our Garter Solution is the best example of keeping the baby, but not the nasty bathwater. You gotta let these wedding traditions settle in your heart and head for a while and then skim the cream from the top.

Or just wait until the last minute and see what happens!

Photos by Kelly Prizel

Take Time If Youre Down On Luck

2009-10-07T06:47:00.000-04:00

After the cake cutting, came the rings. Each member of Lauren's family has the same ring from Tiffany's. Her parents gave Jimmy, Ashley's husband, the same ring at their wedding reception and then it was time to get mine. And thusly it was. Lauren's mom said nice stuff about me, her dad hugged me and everybody clapped and cooed.

Then we tried to pull off the first dance. But the DJ couldnt get our song to download onto his computer. Instead of just carting out the Ipod and the Ipod speakers and doing our best to blast it, I decided to be cool and just pick something off the DJ's computer at random. Surely anything Sade will suffice, right? Wrong. Hang On To Your Love is about not breaking up. Everyone was looking at us and being like, um, why are you dancing to a break up song, kids?

At first, I basically refused to do more than sway, but Lauren gave me a talking to, which made me laugh. So I faked it. Then I busted out a spin, which made people happy and gave her a genuine snuggle. Others joined us, which irritated me until I realized that's the tradition. It was less than perfect. I had a solid 25 seconds of non-happiness throughout this moment.

But, one day, Lauren and I will get to spin around to Kristin Hersh's "Beestung" in front of dozens of adoring people and feel so lovely. Maybe, like, an anniversary or something.

Please enjoy the unfortunate lyrics of our impromptu first dance below, as well as photos, which are all by Ms. Kelly Prizel of Kelly Prizel Photography and the gay wedding website, So You're Engayed.

In heaven's name
why are you walking away?
Hang on to your love.
In heaven's name
why do you play these games?
Hang on to your love.

Take time if you're down on luck

it's so easy to walk out on love.
Take your time if the going gets tough
it's so presious.

So
if you want it to get stronger
you'd better not let go.
You've gotta hold on longer if you want your love to grow.
You gotta stick together
hand in glove

Hold on tight
don't fight
hang onto your love!

The Pastry is Political

2009-10-04T13:59:00.009-04:00

When we got inside to cut the cake, the summer heat was on blast. I had already gone upstairs in an effort to re-apply make up and basically gave up. Mary Alice asked if I had a cake cutting knife the night of the rehearsal dinner. When I said no, she said she would bring one. Someone found crystal glasses somewhere and filled them with white wine. Lauren and I cut our first slice and munched it.

Then I shushed everyone to say a little about my friend Emma who so tirelessly and cheerfully helped me throughout the wedding. But also, it was just the way she did it. In the months and weeks before the wedding she would say, "Have you done this yet? Where are you with this? I'll come over Saturday and we'll do it," knowing that just having a buddy next to you to push through the first two or three feet of procrastination almost feels like cutting the work in half. She camped out at the house in 24 hours leading up to the wedding. She didnt say, "What can I do, what can I do?" She just stood quietly by with her ears open and her mind working and stepped in as needed. We gave her kisses and the second slice of cake.

And Mary was the industrious cutter, server, and cake designer. I felt so loved and cared for considering the gift of the cake and the experience of designing it together. We all know how hard it is to keep in touch with high school and college friends as we grow up and get our families and careers in order. It was so special to spend this time with her in this way. I have all these big ideas about how to thank her that I havent even sent a thank you card yet. All the regular thank you cards just dont seem grateful enough. Right now, I'm thinking about making a poster, but I should just give in and get an average everyday greeting card and call it a day.

The cake itself was 5 tiers and five flavors -- s'mores, pumpkin spice, dulce de leche, tiramisu and bananas foster. We had the cake made to look like political buttons on corkboard. We grabbed the buttons of the internet, as well as, yes it's true, Facebook. The cake toppers are of us, but cross-dressed. Lauren in a dress, me in a suit. The flowers at the bottom are thistles in the spirit of our invitations. Finally, I pretty much love the look on my face as I cut the cake, keeping in mind what they say the cake cutting is all about. I was clearly feelin' it.

All photos by Kelly Prizel.

Saturday Bonus Post

2009-10-02T18:58:00.013-04:00

After shots in Dupont Circle me, Lauren, Jon and I rode home in the red mustang. We took Rock Creek Parkway and then crossed the Memorial Bridge from DC into Virginia. I love the Memorial Bridge because it literally symbolically connects not just two states, but the Union and the Confederacy, with Lincoln Memorial at one end of the bridge and Robert E Lee's home, which houses the eternal flame honoring John F. Kennedy, at the other. In my heart and at the core, I am a patriot and the Civil War, bookended by slavery and Reconstruction, really speaks to the heart of our struggles as a nation when it come to equality and opportunity. Plus, the sun came out as we crossed the bridge, the water was sparkling and of course, a rainbow appeared.

As we entered Virginia, we noticed that the streets were wet. I breathed in that lovely hot cement fresh grass smell and being so high on happiness, required 5-7 minutes to realize that rainbows mean rain. And rain means droopy tissue paper poufs, soaking table cloths and wet chairs. Rain means muddy ground, muddy floors and wet burger buns.

When we got to the house all of these things were true. Then it started to rain some more. I tried to be cool and, in fact, was. I just kinda stood on the porch and tried to enjoy the soupy green color in the sky, feel gratitude that it was sprinkling and not pouring, feel the tender stipple of sprinkles on my face. But then someone, some genius said, "Dude, let's just go inside and cut and the cake." and I said, "Genius!"

Please enjoy below the scene that awaited me when we arrived and of course, on Monday, the wedding cake that saved us from the rain.

Congress

2009-10-02T06:14:00.019-04:00

After the ceremony, we signed the contract, ate and left for Dupont Circle where we would take couple shots. During the receiving line, I was supposed to hand out these little cards that instructed people to find someone they didnt know and get that person to sign their card. Then they were to bring the card back to the house to enter into a raffle to win the second slice of cake. I forgot to hand them out and once I remembered, I realized how asinine it was to have had them printed up and expect people to have their own pens. So, they got snapped but they never got passed.

Another interesting element of the receiving line were the things that people said to me. Specifically, the two people who said what they wanted to say during the ceremony, but didn't think was appropriate. One of my mom's work friends was going to say something about how I have come a long way since my days of getting suspended (6th grade was rough). And an ex's wife was going to say something about how when a crazy person finds their perfect crazy match, neither of them are crazy anymore. I really regretted that they didnt speak because their thoughts wouldve added some spice and texture to the proceedings which were otherwise so creamy sweet and tearful. I wonder if we had given people more time or if we had mentioned in the program that there is no such thing as inappropriate . . .

In terms of eating, Lauren and I did. I just can't imagine not wanting to eat, I mean, it's a pork sandwich on a sweet potato muffin with mango chutney for godssake!

After the ceremony and receiving line, I was so emotionally exhausted that I was ready to scrap the confetti send - off and the photo shoot at the fountain in Dupont Circle and just get a beer. I decided to go through with the schedule as planned though, which resulted in the best pictures of the evening. I love how we were accidentally sitting in front of a part of the quote etched on the side of the fountain that says "congress".

On Monday, we will talk all about the best wedding cake you've ever seen.

Photos by Kelly Prizel.

The Ceremony

2009-09-29T06:12:00.005-04:00

While Lauren and I were still in the library, I took some cherry flavored chap stick out of my bosom and slathered it on my ring finger. My friend Jon opened the door to the Meeting Room and Lauren and I walked in hand in hand. The room was silent, our pace was brisk and the swooshing of my dress was the loudest sound. When we sat down, Joan and another member of our meeting, Laura, explained Quaker Meetings in general and the significance of Quaker weddings to our modern debates about gay marriage. Our friend Katalin introduced the singing bell and then rang it. The sound tickled in through my ears and radiated out through my shoulders. I took breaths. The ceremony began in silence.

Within 5 minutes, I squeezed Lauren's hand, but she didnt squeeze my hand back. We had debated that maybe it would take 10-15 minutes to feel calm and centered enough to exchange our promises, but it didn't take me hardly any time at all. As soon as I realized she hadnt squeezed my hand back, she did and we stood. I went to Lauren's sister Shelby to get my ring and Lauren went to her sister Ashley to get hers, kisses were given. I look at Lauren and said her name and realized that I still had my heels on. I kicked the shoes off, the assembled chuckled. I gave Lauren my promises and she gave me hers. My ring went on relatively smoothly and her's inched down without pause. We both forgot some of the words, but I was the one who cried. Lauren and I crossed over to the table, our parents were sitting in front of it. They read their portions of the contract and the five of us signed our names. Then we all sat back down and the messages began.

I remember Miasia commenting on how she felt, the very moment. I remember Regina's voice cracking as she read her reading. Someone from work talked about our generosity. Meredith said that if you know me, I become a part of you and she thanked Lauren for taking care of a part of her. Laura talked about how my writing about the wedding brought everyone closer together. Ivory was the first to speak and he thanked our parents for being so supportive. Mary stood up and said that she sees a lot of people get married. The chuckles were dying down as she said she believed that our marriage would last. Aleijuan sang a verse and the chorus from Bridge Over Troubled Water and Lauren sobbed. Everyone started their message with the words Desaray and Lauren.

When I first went to Quaker Meeting I wondered what the difference was between a Meeting for Worship and group therapy, or a 12 Step meeting, or a panel discussion. As I was preparing for the wedding I wondered how the Meeting for Worship would be different from toasts. During Meeting for Worship, I close my eyes and don't turn to look at or react to the speaker. Similarly, the two times I have spoken I don't look for acknowledgment or address an individual. This practice came naturally, but if I had to articulate the reasoning, it would have something to do with the deeply personal nature of what I'm doing and its divestment from human relationships, an acknowledgment that the person speaking might not be the author and so it's not important to know who they are, or exchange smiles, or make eye contact.

While people offered their messages during our wedding, I remained forward-facing with my eyes closed, but I felt Lauren turning to guests, making eye contact and thanking them. After the initial awkwardness, we settled into this pattern and I appreciated it. I felt cared for and protected by Lauren. I did turn around and open my eyes once, but I can't remember why.

After I dont know how long or how many messages, Katalin rang the bell three times. The sound tickled in through my ears and radiated out through my shoulders. The dog sighed.

We turned around to look at Dina, who had the glass for breaking. She stood up, came to the center of the room and read the paragraph in the program describing the practice. The champagne glasses we toasted with when we got engaged were wrapped in kitchen towels. Dina placed them on the ground. Lauren stomped on the glass but it didnt break. There were murmurs and good-natured comments. I stomped on my glass, and it didnt break. Lauren said, "How do I do this?" I said, "I don't know, I've never done it before!" She stomped on it again, the glass broke and the room burst into applause, it sounded like the opera. I smashed my glass before the applause was over, giving it a last little boost.

There were no pictures during the ceremony because it is contrary to Quaker tradition. While there is enough room in Quakerism for a multitude of practices, the head of our Marriage and Family Committee was pretty rigid. I was slightly ambivalent about it too, which is part of the reason I didn't make an issue of it. I wouldve liked pictures of me red faced, licking the tears off my lips. On the other hand, I can appreciate the way that the ceremony exists in our memories only reflects the intangible, ephemeral nature of such an event and savor it.

The thing is, we didnt have a guest book either (last minute f@uck!t type situation), so if you were at the ceremony please leave a comment with your own favorite or unique memory.

All photos by Kelly Prizel.

Our History

2009-09-27T20:53:00.002-04:00

Photo by Kelly Prizel.

After the formals, Lauren, Kelly, the photographer, and I headed to the library of the Meeting House. Lauren was feeling light-headed from nerves and the heat, so she snacked on the s'mores cereal we were going to use for confetti. I realized that I left one of my rings on the steps where we took our formals and Natalie, Kelly's wife, went to go get it. Emma told us that one of our readers thought we had the copy of her reading and we thought she had the copy so we had a copy printed. We took a bridal portrait or two and Kelly left to begin photographing the ceremony from outside. Lauren and I were quiet, but together. After a few minutes, Emma and Kelly came back to tell us that the head of the Marriage and Family Committee refused to allow Kelly to photograph even through the windows of the Meeting House during the ceremony. "Well," we said, "sit down and enjoy yourself. Pretend you are a guest." I smiled as big as I could, irritated with the lady, but happy to give Kelly a break.

The photo above is the last one Lauren and I took before we left for the ceremony. Posing for it brought to mind all of the images I have seen over the years of similar couples, who, on account of the conventions of the time, were sitting so stiffly and apart, except the formality has a certain sad undertone. Having the images in my mind and on the altar, as well as having my own body in such an awkward, but familiar position, brought tears to my eyes. I felt like I was taking my place in our history.

Formals

2009-09-25T00:12:00.001-04:00

We arrived to the Meeting House, took just a couple formal photos of the guests of honor and then Kelly, the photographer, marched us to an unknown location. Prior to the wedding she had staked out a set of fantastically landscaped stairs in a shady area. Half way through, I realized that I left my bouquet back at the Meeting House and her wife Natalie went back to get it. It was fantastic.

All photos by Kelly Prizel.

The Altar

2009-09-24T07:20:00.007-04:00

As some of you may remember, both Lauren's brother and my father died while we were planning our wedding. I was originally going to slap together some crazy Memorial Getwaway Car to honor them in lieu of printing something in the program or attaching their pictures to my bouquet. But, when I sent out the volunteer list, no one volunteered to donate the getaway car, blow up the dog, or muck up a car with toothpaste and beer cans.

We knew that we were going to have an altar at the wedding and decided to include some objects that reminded us of our people. Lauren's friend, Desiree, from college, practices Yoruba, and she took our altar the night of the rehearsal. Lauren and I talked with her at length about my dad, Lauren's brother, and explained each object. She took them home, charged them in the sunlight and moonlight, and infused them with all manner of meaning and light before bringing them back to the Meeting House the day of the wedding. My friend Dina took other parts of the altar and shopped diligently for each of Jon and Richard's favorite foods -- Coke, bananas, pound cake, Cheerios, Yoo-hoo, and cookies and cream ice cream. Desiree got a table cloth and crystal from her mother to cover the table and provide bowls of water. The altar also had signs and symbols of mine and Lauren's love and relationship, as well as pictures of famous and anonymous lesbians from history. There was no mention of the altar in the program and we didnt tell anyone about it. It was just there and and it was perfect. This is one of the least planned-for and most fulfilling aspects of the wedding day. A cursory, ten minute internet search yields a link that begins to explain some of the ideas behind the altar more formally.

When we got to the Meeting House for the formal shots, my friend Jon said that the car rental company gave him a cherry red Mustang and would we like that to be our getaway car? We said sure and thought wistfully of the inflatable dog sitting at home not once.

Photo by Kelly Prizel.

The Altar

2009-09-23T07:31:00.004-04:00

All photos by Kelly Prizel

First Hellos

2009-09-21T22:13:00.007-04:00

It was a little premature of me to post the group shot on Sunday -- I was just so excited. So, allow me to back up a wee bit to our departure from the house . . .

Lauren's parents took us to the ceremony site in a car with air conditioning, which was great because I was really starting to melt in the noontime heat. Emma, Lauren's sisters, and her brother-in-law followed behind with Butter, the engagement present. Brother-in-law also had the contract, and the little sisters had the rings.

About ten minutes into the trip, I realized that I, however, did not have the maps and directions to the reception site in the bottom of my suitcase. I tried my best to convince Lauren that we should go back, but to no avail.

Also at about this time, my friend Kate was wretching violently from a case of food poisoning, my friend Amy was holding back her hair, my friend Scott was taking off in a plane to see a suddenly sick family member, my friend Mary was picking my mom up from her house, and some lovely soul was dropping my wedding cake off at the house. About 135 people were, in one way or another, making their way to one corner of the world to marry me and Lauren. Some were buying s'mores ingredients, some were buying cheerios and bananas, some were borrowing their mom's table cloths and some, somehow, had not one task assigned to them and were simply making their way.

In the pictures that follow please enjoy me as I fix Lauren's collar, hug my friend Mere, meet Eliza Jane for the first time, and hold my mother's hands.

Next up: ceremony, altar, formals

All photos by Kelly Prizel

Guests of Honor

2009-09-20T21:04:00.004-04:00

Photo by Kelly Prizel

Instead of having a wedding party, Lauren and I had around 26 guests of honor. Everyone was instructed to show up early for pictures and wear blue or purple. On the day of the wedding, one was food poisoned, one was late taking care of the food poisoned and one couldnt come due to an unexpected illness in the family and one couldnt come because of work. This is probably the picture of which I am the most proud. Please click to enlarge.

Catastrophe of Epic Proportions

2009-09-18T07:41:00.003-04:00

Blogger wont let me upload pictures today. And so, the recaps are re-stopped. Sighsigh.

Wordless Wednesday Plus 22 Hours

2009-09-16T20:27:00.011-04:00

All photos by Kelly Prizel.

Thistle Lashes

2009-09-15T20:30:00.023-04:00

As I mentioned previously, Lauren's suit turned out perfectly. I was so elated, generally speaking, on the wedding day that I forgot to care about the fact that I didnt want her to wear a black suit and burgundy tie. Through my wedding eyes, the offending tie just looked wonderful with the brown pinstripe, the blue thistle in her lapel was as spiky as her long, black lashes. The best part of getting ready with her was getting her into the binder, it was ridiculous and bawdy and terribly gay.

All photos by Kelly Prizel

Hairdryer from Heaven

2009-09-15T07:35:00.016-04:00

Getting ready was quick, easy and painless. I had spent a fair amount of time thinking about what pithy, political or trendy shirt I would wear while getting ready. I never ended up finding anything and wore a white terry cloth robe instead. Little did I know how perfect that would be in the bright white bathroom. I waited until the last possible minute to wash my hair and realized too late that I hadnt left any time for it to dry since I don't actually own a hairdryer. Out of no where, my landlord, the balding military contractor, whips one out of his bathroom.

As far as the dress, I ended up losing enough weight to be able to zip the dress up. It still had a funny little wrinkle in it, and was a snug, but that was mostly OK.

As you'll recall, there was a little bit of a panic about Lauren's suit. Finally, before Lauren went to pick it up from the tailor for the last time, we made a deal that we just wouldnt talk about it anymore. I continued to worry, of course, and spent three hours during a rain storm the day before the wedding looking for H&M suits for her. I bought one in the wrong size because I couldnt find the right one but I certainly wasnt going to walk out of there with nothing since I had long-since descended into an irrational suit hole.

When I brought it home, Lauren didnt even try it on. She was sad that I ditched other important wedding errands to run this mis-guided mission of mercy. It's just that since we had stopped talking about it, she didnt have a chance to tell me that the final alterations were awesome and perfect and she looked amazing. Today, my dress and me getting ready. Tomorrow: Lauren.

Photos by Kelly Prizel.

Dingmoonment Wrap-Up

Emma Saves the day by: De-prioritizing her own personal hygiene in favor of mine. Lending me her powder brush.

Woulda Coulda Shoulda: Gone out and gotten those eyelashes - make up melts, but false eyelashes can stand the test of 100% humidity. Brought a fancy hanger for the dress.

Best Laid Plans: Only got started 15 minutes late!

Whisper Fights Are the New Pre-Marital Counseling

2009-09-13T11:48:00.011-04:00

The first 3 hours of the wedding day were the most stressful. The yard decorations weren't up, I hadn't made photocopies of famous lesbians from history and I still needed to buy fake eyelashes. I got up around 6am and spent a little less than 2 hours climbing ladders to hang 15 or so tissue paper poofs from the trees. Barefooted, on ladders, with branches slapping me in the face, I achieved various asymmetrical, yet, balanced configurations. The entire pursuit was solitary, physical and creative. Perfect. Then the tables came. Problem one.

They were too big and the table cloths didnt fit over them. I suggested that we call the company and have them deliver smaller ones. Lauren said it was hopeless. We fought about whether or not to even call and inquire. I won. We called. DeSean at Perfect Settings sent three new sizes to the house within the hour free of charge. And they were beautiful. Emma and I left to get photocopies, eyelashes and coffee.

When we got back, I took a shower and went back out into the yard to survey my work with a fresh eye. Lauren and Emma were up surveying the day. The photographers came. Our friend Julia came with the flowers. Commence problem two.

Instead of dahlias or even white roses, the florist used calla lillies. neither the words "calla" or "lilly" had never escaped my lips during any of our talks. Julia said the florist used calla lillies because I wanted pitcher plants and calla lillies have the same shape. I thought this was really dumb because aside from shape and color, each flower has a connotation in general and as well as to an individual. I wanted pitcher plants for their flesh-eating capabilities, not their shape and calla lillies remind me of old people. I declared that I was going to behead the calla lillies.

Commence problem number three. Lauren kind of lost it. Her composure. The idea of me taking scissors to the bouquet really stressed her out and she said this amazingly mean thing on which I have promised not to quote her. She said the unquote-able thing in front of the photographer, the day-of-coordinator, and our two friends. It was so mean, I almost cried.

I got the scissors instead. I took the bouquet to a quiet, private place and lopped the heads off those offending calla lillies. It was a glorious and righteous moment that I will always cherish. I was back in the saddle.

With my mojo mounting, I went into the yard and beckoned Lauren to me. Into her ear I whispered that I thought that we shouldnt disagree out loud in front of people, because it makes them nervous and us mean, and that wouldn't we rather whisper our petty criticisms, concerns and debates? I whispered about how she had just said the meanest thing in the history of our relationship and that I almost cried and I whispered about how didnt the bouquet look so much better and wouldn't she apologize? She whispered her apology to me and lavished compliments upon the bouquet and kissed me and agreed.

We headed upstairs to get dressed.

All photos by Kelly Prizel

Dingmonment Wrap-up:

Emma Saves The Day By: keeping me on schedule while drinking coffee and photocopying famous historical lesbians

Woulda Shoulda Coulda: remembered to buy false eyelashes

Best laid plan: those luscious poofs

The Pictures Are In!

2009-09-10T23:08:00.005-04:00

Photo by Kelly Prizel.

And the recaptastico will re-begin on Monday!

Sad Substitute

2009-09-07T21:14:00.007-04:00

before without bangs

after banged

I continue to await the wedding pic disc. In the meantime, I will treat you to a before and after of the new hair cut. (yawn, I know.)

Pre-Wedding Baseball Game

2009-08-30T17:02:00.005-04:00

Lauren poses with the ball.

Gary says, "Gimme my ball."

The Ball

Friday night, a mere 24 hours before the wedding, all ripping and running was officially suspended so the fam could attend a baseball game. We traveled an hour north from DC to Baltimore to take see the Orioles vs. the Red Sox. I had spent the day alone, in a rented truck buying liquor, picking up DJ equipment and snagging a third suit for the wedding.

In attendance were my mom, aunt, uncle, three cousins and Lauren's mom, dad, two sisters, brother in law, uncle, aunt, and cousins. We ate peanuts and drank beer. We took pictures of strangers with their children. We chatted. The best part of the game was when Gary, Lauren's dad, caught a foul ball. He said that he has only caught two other balls in his life. So that's, like totally a sign, if you ask me.

Like Accordion and Lace's welcome party, the baseball game put the breaks on the self absorption and anxiety. I was pretty well geared up after my day of wedding errands, with my little monkey mind doing all manner of somersaults and salutations. So, it was actually very therapeutic to be stuck on BW Parkway in Friday rush hour traffic, absolutely helpless to the Volvo's air conditioning, unable to buy, worry, or cross things off lists.

So the advice is, plan something for before the wedding. It might be the traditional rehearsal dinner, but if you're not having a rehearsal dinner, do something else. Before it happens, you'll think you are spreading yourself too thin. Right before it happens you'll be ever so slightly irritated with me, or whoever it is that got you into this stupid outing or dumb dinner. But once you are there, it's a total mentality make-over.

That said, I welcome you to a picture of my last hot dog as an unmarried woman.