By Misty’s Laws

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Since Jess is about to embark on a journey of love and foreverness that many before her, including me, have taken (and somehow survived), I thought this might be a good time share my own wedding story, which might serve as a cautionary tale for her upcoming nuptials.

I was married on a rainy day in October, almost 12 years ago.  Leading up to that wedding, I was what could best be described as a dragon breathing, hair-trigger, insane beast . . . better known as a Bridezilla.  It happens to all of us.  I’m sure not Jess, of course, but pretty much everyone else.  I never thought in my life that I would be someone who stressed over details such as table
settings and flower arrangements, but there I was.

But a really strange and wonderful thing happened the day of the wedding.  I woke up and I had the weirdest feeling . . . complete and utter calm.  Today was the day and it was all over.  The planning, the stress, the details… everything was finished.  All that was left was to get married.  It was incredible.

Although I seemed very calm and happy, the people around me were wary of my new state of being.  They had experienced the monster I had become and were skeptical of my newfound peacefulness.  Hence, when we arrived at the hair salon and I realized that we had left my headpiece back at the hotel and asked my dad to run back to fetch it, they expected some type of rant or fuming state because of this mishap, and I watched as my bridesmaids and mom exchanged wary glances.  But
instead, I serenely sat and drank my mimosa, and patiently waited for it to arrive.

And despite the clouds and drizzle outside, I felt fine and knew it would be a beautiful day.  Some people say that rain on your wedding day is good luck, and I was convinced at that time of the truth of
this statement.

When we returned to the hotel room to get dressed and ready for the wedding, there were a million people in the hotel room and I was starting to feel a bit claustrophobic.  It was the closest I got that
day to becoming annoyed.  But, instead of yelling and throwing a childish fit, I just took a breath and focused on getting into my dress.

Once everyone was ready to go, and the photographer had snapped a few “getting ready” shots, we went downstairs to catch the limo to the chapel . . . but it wasn’t there.  It was running late.  My maid of honor had the company on the phone and was very firmly explaining that this was unacceptable and that we couldn’t be late, but I just spent the time getting some more beautiful shots taken in front of the hotel.  I was still happy and calm.

The limo arrived soon after and we were off to the wedding.  By the time we arrived, the sky had cleared up and it was a beautiful day with a gorgeous blue sky above us.  The wedding itself went  smoothly, but I later found out that as we were doing a final prep before I walked down the aisle, somehow we got lipstick on the wrap I was wearing around my shoulders.  My bridesmaids wisely did not inform me of this, and instead just reconfigured the wrap to cover it up.  They told me later and I found it pretty funny.

The reception was wonderful . . . mostly.  However, all those little details that I had stressed over and meticulously planned?  I didn’t care at all.  People were eating, drinking, dancing, and having a great time.  And so was I.  Every once in a while, somebody would walk over and place a drink in my and my husband’s hands, but because we were always meeting and greeting with people, and then later dancing, we would usually set them down somewhere and forget about them, until someone brought us another.  This is to say that we weren’t drinking very much . . . at first.

Here is where we face our greatest problem of the day, and where I finally lose that zen-like calm.  It started the moment when my husband’s best buddies from high school realized that there was an
actual bar in the lobby of the hotel, directly outside our reception hall.  And when they decided to forego the open bar we had paid for for our wedding guests, and instead decided that they would go across the lobby and buy shots.  Mainly . . . mind-erasers.  These shots were then fed to my new husband, who drank them out of a sense of fun and responsibility, not because he’s a huge drinker.  A few of those bad boys, and it was all over.  Luckily, this was at the tail end of the night, but our last dance was not pretty, let me tell you.  I was holding him up as we clumsily swayed on the dance floor.

Once the festivities were over, and we went to the front desk to get the keys to our honeymoon suite,  the night desk clerk was clueless as to what we were talking about.  In attempting to explain to him that we were the couple who just had the 4 hour reception in the room directly beside his desk, and that there should be a room waiting for us (supposedly filled with flowers, champagne and strawberries, per our prior request), he just looked at us blankly.  This was about the time when my extremely inebriated husband decided that he had had enough of this guy, and wanted to fight him.  So, we then had to hold him back and firmly place him on a couch across the lobby to chill out.  By the
time they found us a room (not the honeymoon suite, just a room), we were too tired to care.  One of us was about to pass out, as well, so you can imagine how exciting my wedding night was!

So, that is the story of my magical wedding day.  Mostly serene, until the very final moments.  To avoid this, I would suggest not having your wedding where there is a real live bar close enough for shot
purchases.  Either that, or put something in your wedding vows for Joe to recite, wherein he promises not to get wasted on your wedding night!  Mazel Tov and good luck!

Misty is a lawyer by day, ninja by night.  At least one of those things are true.  Recently, she discovered that she is growing a baby ninja, and can’t wait until the baby starts training . . . inside her belly.  Misty sometimes finds the time to write about various inane subjects at her blog:  Misty’s Laws.