My Anti-Fairytale, continued...
After the ceremony, and after posing for 10 million pictures (I should at least get one or two nice ones out of that), we were off to the reception, which took place at a brewery/resteraunt where Peter's dad works. We had the entire second floor to ourselves. It was cool, and it looked really pretty, all decorated and shit. It was so nice to finally get a chance to sit down and relax, although I was still in quite a bit of pain from the corset I was wearing. And my mom kept harassing me about walking around. I really was not the most mobile person ever, with the corset, and the train and the poufy slip. My theory was that if people wanted to talk to me, they knew where I was. Head table, chick in the big white dress, not hard to spot. Finally she convinced me that I needed to go say hi to people, so an entourage helped me to the bathroom downstairs, where we loosened my corset (and all of a sudden, I could breathe again!) and removed the poufy skirt. Now all that was left to impede me was my massive train, which I did my best to deal with, sometimes I was more successful than others. The reception was nice. The food and cake were good, but in all the excitement and the lack of room on the inside of that corset, I got very little of both, which was kind of disappointing. And there was no cake smashing, which disappointed some people, but was just fine for me. My mom freaked a little that things weren't happening exactly when they were supposed to (they served the food a little late, the best man was nowhere to be found at the moment she wanted to begin the toasts {turns out he was decorating our car}), but I just basically told her to chill out. If these were our biggest problems, we were pretty well off. So there was food, and cake, and festivities and dancing. And it was all beautiful and wonderful and over entirely too fast. While at the time, I couldn't wait to get out of my dress, and things seemed like they were taking a long time, I feel like I hardly got a chance to savor all my special moments. Before the wedding, whenever videographers would approach me, I would decline. I hate watching myself on video, why would I pay for that? But now I am very grateful that at least 2 family members taped the proceedings, because my memories of most of it are very dreamy (maybe it has something to do with a lack of oxygen to my brain). Peter and I teased each other on the honeymoon that we weren't really married, because the memories of the wedding seem very surreal to the both of us. So my current theory is that it was all a beautiful, wonderful dream. I mean, something so big that I planned, involving my family, going so well? Must have been my imagination.
Continued in my next journal entry with the Honeymoon (by special request
)
After the ceremony, and after posing for 10 million pictures (I should at least get one or two nice ones out of that), we were off to the reception, which took place at a brewery/resteraunt where Peter's dad works. We had the entire second floor to ourselves. It was cool, and it looked really pretty, all decorated and shit. It was so nice to finally get a chance to sit down and relax, although I was still in quite a bit of pain from the corset I was wearing. And my mom kept harassing me about walking around. I really was not the most mobile person ever, with the corset, and the train and the poufy slip. My theory was that if people wanted to talk to me, they knew where I was. Head table, chick in the big white dress, not hard to spot. Finally she convinced me that I needed to go say hi to people, so an entourage helped me to the bathroom downstairs, where we loosened my corset (and all of a sudden, I could breathe again!) and removed the poufy skirt. Now all that was left to impede me was my massive train, which I did my best to deal with, sometimes I was more successful than others. The reception was nice. The food and cake were good, but in all the excitement and the lack of room on the inside of that corset, I got very little of both, which was kind of disappointing. And there was no cake smashing, which disappointed some people, but was just fine for me. My mom freaked a little that things weren't happening exactly when they were supposed to (they served the food a little late, the best man was nowhere to be found at the moment she wanted to begin the toasts {turns out he was decorating our car}), but I just basically told her to chill out. If these were our biggest problems, we were pretty well off. So there was food, and cake, and festivities and dancing. And it was all beautiful and wonderful and over entirely too fast. While at the time, I couldn't wait to get out of my dress, and things seemed like they were taking a long time, I feel like I hardly got a chance to savor all my special moments. Before the wedding, whenever videographers would approach me, I would decline. I hate watching myself on video, why would I pay for that? But now I am very grateful that at least 2 family members taped the proceedings, because my memories of most of it are very dreamy (maybe it has something to do with a lack of oxygen to my brain). Peter and I teased each other on the honeymoon that we weren't really married, because the memories of the wedding seem very surreal to the both of us. So my current theory is that it was all a beautiful, wonderful dream. I mean, something so big that I planned, involving my family, going so well? Must have been my imagination.
Continued in my next journal entry with the Honeymoon (by special request
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i would have love to see you in your dress
i bet you made a gorgeous bride.