So it appears that in my first two posts about Sam & Emily’s wedding, I have sort of neglected to talk much about the wedding itself. Looks like I picked a whole bouquet of oopsy-daisies! No matter, though – this post will be about the day of the wedding, pre-ceremony. If there’s one thing internet readers need to learn, it’s to “wait for it,” as people say. So now, you’ve waited for it, you’ve bated your breaths, and your reward is the following.
irst of all, despite Emily’s stern treatment of Tom’s “haircut situation,” she and Sam were both remarkably calm the entire time. I never saw either of them look stressed, uncomfortable, or antsy, which I think is a testament to how perfect they are for each other. They’re both laid-back and down to earth, easy-going, and any number of clichés you can think of that fit the bill. Oh yeah: “cool as cucumbers.” Or perhaps it’s time to invent a new one: “Chill as a chilly chinchilla in Chinatown chewing chaw.”*
*I have a long history of trying to invent phrases and having none of them ever catch on. One day, God willing, one of them will. They include: “Will do, mildew” (to replace the simple and archaic “will do”); “Wetter than a weasel in a wet suit,” which is self-explanatory; “Tres cray,” to mean essentially the same thing as “quite crazy in a good way;” and “vista” as a verb, like “yo, vista that shit over there!”, co-created with my good friend and groomsman Andrew. One of Andrew’s best is “a sexy minute,” which describes a minute so sexy that it only takes about 45 seconds or so. “I’ll be there in a sexy minute.”
The afternoon of the wedding, Sam & Emily partook in a tradition called the “first look,” which I had previously only known about in the context of the obnoxious trivia & previews shown before the lights go down in the movie theater. The Regal Firstlook. I hate those things. I think it used to be called “The Twenty,” except they had the gall to spell it “2wenty.” They further had the gall to ask viewers to come early, on purpose, just to see the 2wenty. I mean, honestly. Who would do that?
OK anyway: so the First Look. Here are Sam & Emily, mere moments after theirs:
The idea, for those few of you who didn’t know about the first look either, is that it’s the first time the bride and groom see each other the day of their wedding. Sam & Emily had theirs in a pretty little garden just outside the church, and even though it was around 145 degrees and we were all wearing suits and fancy clothes, it was a lovely moment.
Following the first look, Emily’s mom Cindy brought over some boutonnieres for Sam and his groomsmen. Terri helped her son with his, as Jessica looks on with a mixture of pride, joy, and extreme heat exhaustion:
It was also in this garden that I snapped one of my favorite photos of the night, Steve talking on his cell phone:
He either looks like a mafioso, or like a mafioso’s limo driver or bodyguard. And he’s seen enough movies to act the part, too.
Later we all filed into the church for photos. It was not very bright inside, and since I absolutely refuse to use a flash, the only way I could take photos that weren’t blurry was to set my camera down on the tops of pews, which happened to not be straight or level. So most of my shots, during both the photo time and the rehearsal, looked like so:
I guess the crookedness does have a certain charm to it. At least, that’s what I’ll tell myself. I still need to learn how to take pictures with a flash that actually look good, because some people are able to do that. Maybe I just need more expensive equipment. I should put that as an item on my registry: “More expensive camera equipment than I have now.” That’ll go over well, I am sure.
Anyway, between setting up the reception hall, putting the flowers together (during which time Steve and I went for a cruise around town, which was the best decision either of us made all day), getting everyone where they needed to be at various times, getting last-minute supplies, and all the millions of behind-the-scenes things that I was not privy too, things went incredibly smoothly. A little too smoothly.
Until… the DISASTER happened.
Just joking! There were no disasters, unless you consider me forgetting my tie a disaster, which it wasn’t, because I borrowed one that just happened to match my suit perfectly.
Up next: the ceremony and reception.