So, where were we? The ceremony was over and we had taken some adorbs shots around my high school while the rest of the guests and the wedding party went to get there drink on with some swiggity sweet Mariachis back at the reception. By the time I had stomped up and down stairs, walked in grass, stood stood stood I wanted to kill my pretty shoes. Thankfully, I had flats waiting for me under my chair. Sweet feet hope is what they were.
The first thing I did in the limo was take off my shoes, the second thing was take a photo of my new husband and put it on facebook, as you do. For the 15 minute drive to the reception it was just Kamel and I (and Lauren), and we got to bounce around and say “We’re MARRIED, We’re MARRIED!” and not have to be in front of all of our friends and family. It was a huge relief. When we showed up, we were greeted at the car with champagne and lots of helping hands. I stepped out barefoot and in a dress that had suddenly gotten 4 inches longer.
The way the reception was supposed to work was like this: cocktail hour with mariachis, everyone standing around, appetizers on trays and champagne on trays floating around the mingling crowd, we walk in and everyone says YAY! And we mingle and then everyone sits down for dinner.
(Oh my, that picture just makes me laugh) But when we walked in in real life, everyone was sitting. There were a few people over near the bar, I guess, but in general everyone was already sitting. This threw Kamel and I for a total loop since no one had given us a headsup that things had not gone exactly according to plan and we had no idea what to do next. We had… never done this before.
So, we did the “yay we’re here!” thing, got champagne, let the crowd clap, then walked through the tables to ours in the back, where – shockingly – no one was sitting (Where was the wedding party and our parents?), and we sat down. Everyone else was sitting, so that’s what we did. And then, because I was still barefoot and that was starting to feel awkward, I asked Kamel to help me strap on my sandals. But, instead of going back to whatever they were doing before, about half our guests started cheering something I had never heard until that day, again and again, and everyone was staring at us. All while Kamel was helping me with my shoes. And this is the one part of the wedding we hated, as in completely cringe when we think of, because it was also one of the most uncomfortable, confusing, and embarrassing things that has ever happened to either one of us. While I was writing this post Kamel actually squirmed and said, “No! I don’t want to relive that moment!” It was pretty bad, and it seemed like it would never end.
It’s strange, and you wouldn’t think this would be true, but because you’re the bride and groom people expect you to know how to do everything; cut a giant cake, know exactly how to make an enterance, what the proper response is to cheers and toasts and things, all of it. All while you’re in a whirlwind of, “holyshit check out what I just did! ah! married!”
Navigating tradition is strange. It’s been there for generations, but you don’t experience it until you experience it and then you never do again.
Also, the napkins got white fluffy stuff all over the tuxes. Something had to be done.
And then there was the dancing.
Yes, that’s my dad. He’s kind of amazing.
The wedding was a crazy transcendent experience. The reception was like someone had thrown me a birthday party on steroids.
Cuz like… I was trying to be gracious, and all good hostess and such. I was on my best behavior, and everything. But at the same time, I could no wrong. If my BOOB had popped out of my dress while I was cuttin’ a rug… someone would have just stuffed it right back in there and kept on groovin. I swear to god.
I’m going to tell you the honest to god truth too … I lost 5 lbs the night of my wedding because I sweated so much on the dance floor. I weighed myself the next morning just see… and 5 lbs. Bam.
The months before the wedding I thought for sure we would be having an after party in our room. I thought for SURE.
But at the reception I think I had total 1 glass of wine and 1/2 a bottle of beer. I barely ate anything, and I wasn’t hungry. That was not at all what I thought would happen after drooling over the menu for 9 months.
I don’t even remember what song this was, but … let’s be honest. I don’t think it matters.
By 1030 I was done. Tapped out. We had the reception room until 11, but I did not care. Back up in our hotel room Kamel had to drag a chair into the bathroom so I could take the 5 thousand bobby pins out of my hair, because I was not about to do that shit while standing.
I left feeling totally exhausted, and totally certain that we had just thrown a seriously excellent party. Something I’m really not ever interested in doing again, but that I’m really proud of. I shake my head at the memory of that day. Can you fucking BELIEVE IT? I want to say over and over again. Sometimes I totally can’t.