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I haven’t been able to get my arms around what to say about our reception. All I can really say is that in the middle of eating my lunch, I put down my knife and fork and looked around at these long tables full of people happily chattering, thought for a minute and said with a note of wonder in my voice, “This is a really fun wedding.” There was a pause. And then everyone cracked up.Other than that I can tell you about doing the electric slide with 10 girls to Dolly Parton’s 9-5 (if I don’t get to do the Electric Slide, it’s not a damn party),or how I enlisted help to redecorate our wedding cake in the middle of the reception.It had arrived with orange Dahlias on it (look at my face), and I think you’ll agree it looked much better when we were done.And here we are cutting it with my Grandfathers Marine Corp Saber. Which was bad ass, but mostly it was actually really sentimental. In a good way, in a it-felt-like-he-came-to-the-party way, not in a weepy way. Because I don’t think he would have wanted me to get weepy on our wedding day.
But mostly, I don’t know what to say other than it was a damn good party. Our amazing friends gave us one of the best gifts of the wedding… the Polaroid pictures they took. And no, this is not some b*llshit styled ass wedding-as-photoshoot picture. Our friends are just fantastic, and this was where they had the Polaroids spread out. I never saw it, but I love the picture. If you ask nicely maybe I’ll tell you about them one day. But until then, I give you Gabi, queen of the expired Polaroid, and party-er extraordinaire:
And then we danced and danced and danced.
Photos, or really art, by One Love Photo and yes, we are deliriously grateful for our photographs. But also a reminder… our wedding may look pretty, but it didn’t feel pretty. It felt like transcendent joy. It felt like a rocking good party. It felt like being more of myself than I’ve ever been. And what I love about the photos is seeing how happy everyone else was. That’s what breaks my heart open.
PS a special thanks to all my friends who, achem, allowed or “allowed” me to share them at their party-best here for the interwebs.