Now listen to a story 'bout a girl named Jen...
Okay, so it was really a guy named John, but...the long-awaited wedding post!
I love weddings. There's something special about two people who commit to each other. Part of me will always be a hopeless romantic. I sort of feel like I'm not an official girl--I hate shopping and shoes and makeup and that sort of thing--but I have a definite soft spot for weddings and what they mean.
What I don't have a soft spot for: Getting ready for a wedding. Ugh. My hair was not behaving. It needs to be cut really, really badly, and because of that I wanted to wear it up. Having temps in the mid-90s sealed the deal. But I could not get it to stay up and back properly, despite pinning and pinning and pinning it. I finally made a little bun and tossed a couple large bobby pin-like objects in it, had a couple pins on the side to catch flyaways, and then spritzed it with gel. I hate putting gel in my hair, but I did NOT want to touch my hair again the rest of the night. It worked.
So, yeah, it was like 95F the entire way up there. Cooler by the lake, my ass. Thank God for air conditioning. Because of the hair situation, I left later than I expected, and promptly got caught in the Kirk Road/Route 38 construction. Farther up the road I got caught in the middle of a repaving project. Guys, it's Saturday...shouldn't you be off? But construction waits for no one, apparently. Thankfully, I arrived at the church with about ten minutes to spare, enough time to use the washroom and then figure out how to get into the church proper. See, I parked on the back side of the church because I knew how to get there; that's where the shower was. But the actual church was down a long hallway. I didn't want to disturb the wedding preparations, which I figured were along the hall, so I went outside and tried to find a way into the church that way. I swear I saw a guy enter these doors along the side, but when I tried they were locked up good. *sigh* Okay, fine, all the way around I go.
Once inside, I noticed it wasn't terribly cool in there. It was probably about 80F. It was better than being outside, but it still wasn't ideal. Some ladies had fans; others used their programs. I didn't find it quite that warm, but it was close. I did get yelled at for trying to walk down the center aisle to get into the sanctuary. Um, well, perhaps if you were stationed in the lobby and not in the church, you could have told me that before I even opened the door. Bah on you. And then another lady was upset that I didn't sign the guestbook. Her one job was to make sure the guestbook got signed, and somehow I got past her. Well, it's because you were paying attention to someone else and not the guestbook. Bah as well. I finally made my way inside the church and sat in the middle of the back row. There, I can't do anything wrong back there.
I was amazed at how short the ceremony was. We stood once, when the bride walked in. She looked beautiful. The dress looked plain from far away, but up close you could see beads and possibly some sequins. But Jenny's not a flashy gal, so it suited her just fine. As for the bridesmaids, well, my mom had said my dress was bridesmaidesque; turns out she wasn't kidding. Their color was green. My dress was green. You have to be kidding me. Theirs was several shades darker than mine, but it was a similar color family. Also, they wore these silver necklaces with a sort of flower pattern to them; I almost wore a similar, but dark, necklace. Whoa. Luckily for me I thought I'd be uncomfortable in it--it's sort of scratchy--and only wore a bracelet. It's my "fancy-schmantzy" bracelet that I made myself a few years ago. I finally got a couple of compliments on it at the reception. Sweet.
Anyway, so the ceremony lasted maybe half an hour. I think it took the same amount of time for everyone to leave the church, because as they walked out they greeted the couple and the parents. Since I was in the back, I had a long wait. I'd noticed a guy with a baby carrier in the row in front of me, on the aisle; I kept thinking it was Betsy's husband Mike with the baby. Sure enough...He came to the middle of his row and asked, do I know you? I said that I'd gone to high school with Betsy and Jenny, and he asked if I'd gone to his wedding. Yes. Then he went, did you catch the bouquet? Um, yeah, that was me. He then went, you've lost a lot of weight! Granted, they've been married almost three years, and that's the only time he'd ever met me, but...well, I guess I have. And I realized later that neither Betsy nor Jenny ever saw me the last time I lost a lot of weight, which was seven years ago now. This is probably the slimmest they'd ever seen me, and the dress really played to that. Score one for the dress. Anyway, Mike and I talked for a little bit, mainly about the baby, but I did mention that seeing Jenny get married gave me some hope. Jenny was my age when she met her now-husband (she's two years older than me, though we were just a grade apart in school). It shows me that even us old broads still have a chance. Jenny met John online through eHarmony. I guess Mike's the one that helped her set up the account; he said, give me your info and I'll set you up, too. Um, no. Not that I'm having any luck offline, but I am WAY too uncomfortable to do anything remotely blind date-like. I'll prefer to stay single, thanks.
We eventually made it outside to toss flower petals on the newlyweds. There was a slight breeze by then, so it felt the slightest bit cooler, which was refreshing. After that they drove around a little bit before coming back to take pictures. There was about an hour until the reception at that point, and I didn't feel like sticking around for the pictures, so after another stop in the bathroom to freshen up I decided to explore a little. I think I mentioned in my shower entry that Zion is about as far north and east as you can get while still staying in the state of Illinois. The church was about a mile away from the lakefront. I was so close to both that I figured I should go to either Wisconsin or the lake, and the lake was a lot closer. East to the water, then!
I took the east spoke street away from the church and figured eventually I would hit a beach. Well, as it turns out, that's wrong. If you take Shiloh Boulevard away from the church, you hit a small residential section, a set of railroad tracks, and then...a security checkpoint. Uh, what? Oh, that's right, if you look to the south you'll see two large blue cooling towers. I may not have found the beach, but I found the nuclear power plant. That is NOT what it looks like on The Simpsons, that's for sure. Um, I think I'll turn around now...heh, well, that would be why I didn't see any cars heading westbound past a certain point. I made my way to the unnamed but clearly busy north-south road just east of the church and went south. Aha, there we go--about a mile down the road was a big ol' sign proclaiming Illinois Beach State Park. The bad news was that the road going to the beach was like a mile long, first heading south before turning and heading north again. Um, I don't have *that* much time to be cavorting here...would it have been that hard to just put the street in straight? Apparently so. But by that point I was determined to see water. So there I was, in heels and a floor-length dress, carrying my dress purse and camera to the path that led to the beach. Nice, eh? What, maybe I'm trying to bring a little class back to the beach. And I know some people saw me, too, but whatever. I didn't go onto the beach itself, though there was plenty of sand. I hate sand. But I was careful and didn't get any on me, I believe. I'd parked near the beach house, and there was a deck overlooking the beach there, so I got to stand there for a few minutes and I took a few pictures (including the scenic cooling towers off in the distance). It was a beautiful, beautiful day, and the beach wasn't crowded. I'm sure it was lovely for the people partaking of the water. There was even a sailboat out there. Alas, after five or ten minutes I had to go, but it was a nice diversion that also was a good use of time. I hate getting to the reception way early. As it was, I was *maybe* five minutes late. And that's subjective, really.
The reception was held at what was called a convention center in the invitation; it was actually the teacher's union for Lake County. And, unbeknownst to the partygoers, the rental of the building automatically comes with a cop. We were pretty surprised when a cop walked in before the bride and groom did. Heh. The tables we sat at were named after cities and counties in Ireland and Scotland, where John and Jenny will honeymoon. I was at the Galway table. Honestly, I sort of thought I was there because I was a flutist and James Galway is the best-known commercial flutist. He's the Michael Flatley of the flute world, although really Galway came long before Flatley. Anyway. I was at a table full of Jenny's friends. Three of them were teachers at her school. Two of those came by themselves; the third had her boyfriend. The date of one of the bridesmaids also sat with us. The last couple were a friend of Jenny's from high school and her husband. I knew this girl by name but we didn't ever know each other in school. Still, we knew enough of the same people that we didn't have trouble talking to each other. We compared high school reunions; hers was basically the same as mine (i.e., disappointing), except she crashed hers and didn't have to pay the $60 or whatever to go. Smart move. Also there (but across the room) was the junior high band director, Mr. Stiers. I'd actually ran into him in the waning days of the bookstore. I wouldn't have known who he was except he was wearing a sweatshirt from the music store, and I said, hey, I have one of those! He retired a few months before I started working there, so I never ran into him that way. Well, I ran into him at the dessert table and reminded him of the story, and he did remember me ringing up his sale. Funny. I didn't have the chance at the time to say, hey, I knew a bunch of your former students, but I think that became obvious since we were at the same wedding. :)
Hmm, let's see, food. The appetizers were set out on a table on the left side of the kitchen; to the right was the table with the wedding cake. It was a really interesting cake: Four layers, with two of the layers plain-looking and the other two with writing on the sides. The words were such like love, friendship, caring, etc. You couldn't tell from far away, but the icing was iridescent. Pretty. Dinner was either chicken kiev or beef wellington, along with a twice-baked potato and carrots. I had the beef. Part of me feels like we should be able to take home our leftovers in a doggie bag. The portions are always so large; I could easily have eaten half and taken the other half home. The food's paid for; why let it go to waste? Oh well. There were purple flowers on our plates, too, which we thought might be an edible garnish, though most people took to sticking them behind their ears. I, however, got brave and took a bite of mine. Everyone at the table was watching. Eh, it tastes like a flower. A couple other people did end up trying theirs after that, seeing as I didn't die immediately. Frankly, we were more worried about the butter. Again, it was warm (though cooler than the church); the butter was one of the first items put out, long before we got the rolls (mmm, I got a croissant!). It was clearly trying to melt. The pats were in little flower shapes, which really glistened under the lights, but surprisingly enough most of us got the pats off the plate in one piece. In more than one piece: Someone's champagne glass. You know how people tap their glasses with their cutlery to get the bride and groom to kiss? One of the girls at the table got a little overzealous and apparently broke hers. Whoops. And I missed it, too. Once dinner was over our silverware (resting on our plates) was taken away; we were all like, now how are we going to clink the glasses? We started getting creative. I grabbed my bread plate and tapped it against a glass; someone else tapped one glass against another; a third person tried a glass and the water carafe. Well, it seemed to work; the couple had been visiting the table next to ours and I saw them kiss after that. Sweet. :)
I enjoyed the speeches. One of John's brothers was the best man. He started by saying he wasn't known as a good speech-giver; when he found out people were taking bets on how long he could talk, the only slot left was the 90-100 minute slot, so we'd better sit tight. He actually ended up being pretty funny. I think my favorite line was something like, Jenny's a great catch for a great guy; it's a good thing John came along before that guy did. Nice. Gotta love brothers. Then Betsy, the matron of honor, got to do her speech. She started off by saying that in her family, they were very fair. What happened to one daughter happened to the other. So, in the interest of fairness...she did her speech as a song. See, at her wedding, Mike's best man performed a song to the tune of "Sweet Betsy from Pike," changing it to "Sweet Betsy and Mike." It was awesome, if a bit long, but we were encouraged to sing along to the chorus. With this, Betsy enlisted help from the band--like her wedding, there was a live band...the same band, even, perhaps--and got us all to clap along. Now, her song was to the tune of the Beverly Hillbillies theme, so it started off as, "Now listen to a story 'bout a guy named John..." Now you get the title of this entry, right? See, well, I know the bride in this here couple; that's why I changed the words. Anyway, the song was pretty cute and funny. I was impressed.
The band itself was pretty good. It was pretty big--there were your standard rock band pieces (singer, keyboard, guitar, bass, drums) along with horns (trumpet, trombone, saxes--one doubled on flute!). They did some interesting songs but aside from the Electric Slide (on CD while the band took a break), there weren't any typical fun wedding pieces. Oh, I'm sorry, they did "Hot, Hot, Hot" and we did a conga line to that. That was probably the song that got most of the room on their feet. But, well, most people didn't dance. That was kind of sad. I didn't have a partner, so I sort of had an excuse. But most people didn't want to get out there. The bride and groom did a good amount of dancing, which was nice to see, and John's parents were out there a LOT. His mom can cut a rug. But there was one couple that outdanced us all, and they were in their 60s, I'd say. The guy looked like Jerry Stiller but moved like...um...a guy far younger who was a really good dancer. He was the caboose of the conga line and he was literally kicking up his heels. It was awesome. Pretty much the only dancing I did for a long time was the conga line and the Electric Slide, and practically no one did the Slide! For shame! The music came on and Katie (the other high school friend) and I were like, no one's dancing; I told Katie I'd do it if she would. So we got out there and tried to figure out where to start. Eventually I caught the beat and started it up; Katie tried to follow but it took her a couple tries. But then a few more people came out...and a few more...and by the end we had probably 15-20 people out there. Awesome.
It was around that time that they did the bouquet and garter toss. I don't know, maybe everyone was just shy at this wedding, but hardly anyone came out for either. I was the first one out there for the bouquet. I reminded Jenny that she said she'd toss it to me, then one of her teacher friends came over and was like, you can just hand it over to me and make it easier. Um, no. We ended up with just five ladies out there. That's kind of sad. When Jenny tossed it it went over our heads. I managed to snatch it off the floor just before someone else did--that's how I was victorious. So, well, I didn't *actually* catch it, but I came home with it, and that's what counts. This was the second bouquet I've snatched off the floor; of the three bouquets I've gotten, I'd only legitimately caught Betsy's. Well, seeing how I caught both girls' bouquets, I think this makes me an official member of the family, right? Mrs. S (mother of the bride) told me she'd make my table decorations for my wedding. Well, I guess I'll have to get married to take her up on the offer, right? So there weren't a whole lot of bouquet catchers; there were even fewer for the garter. Whoa. Four guys came out--two teenage cousins of Jenny and Betsy, and two little boys who were sons of John's guests, I take it. Um...wait a minute...luckily the older of the cousins got the garter. However, there wasn't a picture of the two of us together, nor was there a dance. Ah well. That's okay. I was just relieved that this kid was older than the kid who got Betsy's garter.
I didn't want to stay *too* late; I kept thinking I'd leave at around 9. But when 9 came around, I wasn't ready to leave...even though the entire rest of my table had left. Yes, even the date of the bridesmaid...because even she left. There were two bridesmaids and Betsy in the wedding party; the other bridesmaid was like, I can't believe she wouldn't stay for the whole time! Well, I don't know what to say, but they were sort of rowdy. They straddled the line of fun and obnoxious. Frankly, I was kind of surprised that Jenny was friends with the girls because they were so wild, but whatever. I have to say, the one bridesmaid's date was interesting. He works for Motorola and had brought a new phone prototype with him and was showing it to us during dinner. I also noticed that he cut his food with the knife in his left hand and his fork in his right. I do that and I've never met anyone else that did that. I always thought it was dumb to cut the food with the knife in the right hand, set the knife down, and transfer the fork from the left to the right hand to eat, then start the process over. What a waste of time. I'm glad to see there is someone else out there who skips that pointless process. Anyway, after my table abandoned me, the other bridesmaid invited me to the table she'd joined, which was very nice of her. She knew Jenny from the Zion Passion Play and seemed more like Jenny's friend type. I'd met her at the shower--we sat at the same table--so it was nice to talk to her a little more. She was very into my dress and was one of the people to compliment me on my bracelet.
The reception wound down around 10. It took a while to say goodbyes and such; I was on the road by 10:30. The reception was in the shadow of Great America, which was sort of cool. Heck, the little kid in me would have been like, let's have the reception *at* Great America! Really, the road the place was off of was just down the street from a back entrance to the park. You could practically touch the Eagle. Man, I haven't been there in ages. *sigh* But no, time to go home. I figured I'd get home around midnight, which was right on. The only problem was, I'd wanted to leave at 9 to get home by 11, because I'm totally in bed by then. Whoops. So I was really tired when I got home, but of course I couldn't go right to bed. And then I was totally exhausted all day Sunday. I was good for nothing. Sunday was Father's Day, and I did manage to make my dad breakfast despite my half-asleep stupor, but otherwise that was it. I rested my eyes (but didn't actually sleep) a couple of times and just laid in bed for a good portion of the day. Mom did make me clean the bathrooms 'cause they were really bad, but that didn't happen until the late afternoon. It's pretty much taken me all week to get my energy level back up. But it's up, and I did have fun, so I'll call it a success.
I love weddings. There's something special about two people who commit to each other. Part of me will always be a hopeless romantic. I sort of feel like I'm not an official girl--I hate shopping and shoes and makeup and that sort of thing--but I have a definite soft spot for weddings and what they mean.
What I don't have a soft spot for: Getting ready for a wedding. Ugh. My hair was not behaving. It needs to be cut really, really badly, and because of that I wanted to wear it up. Having temps in the mid-90s sealed the deal. But I could not get it to stay up and back properly, despite pinning and pinning and pinning it. I finally made a little bun and tossed a couple large bobby pin-like objects in it, had a couple pins on the side to catch flyaways, and then spritzed it with gel. I hate putting gel in my hair, but I did NOT want to touch my hair again the rest of the night. It worked.
So, yeah, it was like 95F the entire way up there. Cooler by the lake, my ass. Thank God for air conditioning. Because of the hair situation, I left later than I expected, and promptly got caught in the Kirk Road/Route 38 construction. Farther up the road I got caught in the middle of a repaving project. Guys, it's Saturday...shouldn't you be off? But construction waits for no one, apparently. Thankfully, I arrived at the church with about ten minutes to spare, enough time to use the washroom and then figure out how to get into the church proper. See, I parked on the back side of the church because I knew how to get there; that's where the shower was. But the actual church was down a long hallway. I didn't want to disturb the wedding preparations, which I figured were along the hall, so I went outside and tried to find a way into the church that way. I swear I saw a guy enter these doors along the side, but when I tried they were locked up good. *sigh* Okay, fine, all the way around I go.
Once inside, I noticed it wasn't terribly cool in there. It was probably about 80F. It was better than being outside, but it still wasn't ideal. Some ladies had fans; others used their programs. I didn't find it quite that warm, but it was close. I did get yelled at for trying to walk down the center aisle to get into the sanctuary. Um, well, perhaps if you were stationed in the lobby and not in the church, you could have told me that before I even opened the door. Bah on you. And then another lady was upset that I didn't sign the guestbook. Her one job was to make sure the guestbook got signed, and somehow I got past her. Well, it's because you were paying attention to someone else and not the guestbook. Bah as well. I finally made my way inside the church and sat in the middle of the back row. There, I can't do anything wrong back there.
I was amazed at how short the ceremony was. We stood once, when the bride walked in. She looked beautiful. The dress looked plain from far away, but up close you could see beads and possibly some sequins. But Jenny's not a flashy gal, so it suited her just fine. As for the bridesmaids, well, my mom had said my dress was bridesmaidesque; turns out she wasn't kidding. Their color was green. My dress was green. You have to be kidding me. Theirs was several shades darker than mine, but it was a similar color family. Also, they wore these silver necklaces with a sort of flower pattern to them; I almost wore a similar, but dark, necklace. Whoa. Luckily for me I thought I'd be uncomfortable in it--it's sort of scratchy--and only wore a bracelet. It's my "fancy-schmantzy" bracelet that I made myself a few years ago. I finally got a couple of compliments on it at the reception. Sweet.
Anyway, so the ceremony lasted maybe half an hour. I think it took the same amount of time for everyone to leave the church, because as they walked out they greeted the couple and the parents. Since I was in the back, I had a long wait. I'd noticed a guy with a baby carrier in the row in front of me, on the aisle; I kept thinking it was Betsy's husband Mike with the baby. Sure enough...He came to the middle of his row and asked, do I know you? I said that I'd gone to high school with Betsy and Jenny, and he asked if I'd gone to his wedding. Yes. Then he went, did you catch the bouquet? Um, yeah, that was me. He then went, you've lost a lot of weight! Granted, they've been married almost three years, and that's the only time he'd ever met me, but...well, I guess I have. And I realized later that neither Betsy nor Jenny ever saw me the last time I lost a lot of weight, which was seven years ago now. This is probably the slimmest they'd ever seen me, and the dress really played to that. Score one for the dress. Anyway, Mike and I talked for a little bit, mainly about the baby, but I did mention that seeing Jenny get married gave me some hope. Jenny was my age when she met her now-husband (she's two years older than me, though we were just a grade apart in school). It shows me that even us old broads still have a chance. Jenny met John online through eHarmony. I guess Mike's the one that helped her set up the account; he said, give me your info and I'll set you up, too. Um, no. Not that I'm having any luck offline, but I am WAY too uncomfortable to do anything remotely blind date-like. I'll prefer to stay single, thanks.
We eventually made it outside to toss flower petals on the newlyweds. There was a slight breeze by then, so it felt the slightest bit cooler, which was refreshing. After that they drove around a little bit before coming back to take pictures. There was about an hour until the reception at that point, and I didn't feel like sticking around for the pictures, so after another stop in the bathroom to freshen up I decided to explore a little. I think I mentioned in my shower entry that Zion is about as far north and east as you can get while still staying in the state of Illinois. The church was about a mile away from the lakefront. I was so close to both that I figured I should go to either Wisconsin or the lake, and the lake was a lot closer. East to the water, then!
I took the east spoke street away from the church and figured eventually I would hit a beach. Well, as it turns out, that's wrong. If you take Shiloh Boulevard away from the church, you hit a small residential section, a set of railroad tracks, and then...a security checkpoint. Uh, what? Oh, that's right, if you look to the south you'll see two large blue cooling towers. I may not have found the beach, but I found the nuclear power plant. That is NOT what it looks like on The Simpsons, that's for sure. Um, I think I'll turn around now...heh, well, that would be why I didn't see any cars heading westbound past a certain point. I made my way to the unnamed but clearly busy north-south road just east of the church and went south. Aha, there we go--about a mile down the road was a big ol' sign proclaiming Illinois Beach State Park. The bad news was that the road going to the beach was like a mile long, first heading south before turning and heading north again. Um, I don't have *that* much time to be cavorting here...would it have been that hard to just put the street in straight? Apparently so. But by that point I was determined to see water. So there I was, in heels and a floor-length dress, carrying my dress purse and camera to the path that led to the beach. Nice, eh? What, maybe I'm trying to bring a little class back to the beach. And I know some people saw me, too, but whatever. I didn't go onto the beach itself, though there was plenty of sand. I hate sand. But I was careful and didn't get any on me, I believe. I'd parked near the beach house, and there was a deck overlooking the beach there, so I got to stand there for a few minutes and I took a few pictures (including the scenic cooling towers off in the distance). It was a beautiful, beautiful day, and the beach wasn't crowded. I'm sure it was lovely for the people partaking of the water. There was even a sailboat out there. Alas, after five or ten minutes I had to go, but it was a nice diversion that also was a good use of time. I hate getting to the reception way early. As it was, I was *maybe* five minutes late. And that's subjective, really.
The reception was held at what was called a convention center in the invitation; it was actually the teacher's union for Lake County. And, unbeknownst to the partygoers, the rental of the building automatically comes with a cop. We were pretty surprised when a cop walked in before the bride and groom did. Heh. The tables we sat at were named after cities and counties in Ireland and Scotland, where John and Jenny will honeymoon. I was at the Galway table. Honestly, I sort of thought I was there because I was a flutist and James Galway is the best-known commercial flutist. He's the Michael Flatley of the flute world, although really Galway came long before Flatley. Anyway. I was at a table full of Jenny's friends. Three of them were teachers at her school. Two of those came by themselves; the third had her boyfriend. The date of one of the bridesmaids also sat with us. The last couple were a friend of Jenny's from high school and her husband. I knew this girl by name but we didn't ever know each other in school. Still, we knew enough of the same people that we didn't have trouble talking to each other. We compared high school reunions; hers was basically the same as mine (i.e., disappointing), except she crashed hers and didn't have to pay the $60 or whatever to go. Smart move. Also there (but across the room) was the junior high band director, Mr. Stiers. I'd actually ran into him in the waning days of the bookstore. I wouldn't have known who he was except he was wearing a sweatshirt from the music store, and I said, hey, I have one of those! He retired a few months before I started working there, so I never ran into him that way. Well, I ran into him at the dessert table and reminded him of the story, and he did remember me ringing up his sale. Funny. I didn't have the chance at the time to say, hey, I knew a bunch of your former students, but I think that became obvious since we were at the same wedding. :)
Hmm, let's see, food. The appetizers were set out on a table on the left side of the kitchen; to the right was the table with the wedding cake. It was a really interesting cake: Four layers, with two of the layers plain-looking and the other two with writing on the sides. The words were such like love, friendship, caring, etc. You couldn't tell from far away, but the icing was iridescent. Pretty. Dinner was either chicken kiev or beef wellington, along with a twice-baked potato and carrots. I had the beef. Part of me feels like we should be able to take home our leftovers in a doggie bag. The portions are always so large; I could easily have eaten half and taken the other half home. The food's paid for; why let it go to waste? Oh well. There were purple flowers on our plates, too, which we thought might be an edible garnish, though most people took to sticking them behind their ears. I, however, got brave and took a bite of mine. Everyone at the table was watching. Eh, it tastes like a flower. A couple other people did end up trying theirs after that, seeing as I didn't die immediately. Frankly, we were more worried about the butter. Again, it was warm (though cooler than the church); the butter was one of the first items put out, long before we got the rolls (mmm, I got a croissant!). It was clearly trying to melt. The pats were in little flower shapes, which really glistened under the lights, but surprisingly enough most of us got the pats off the plate in one piece. In more than one piece: Someone's champagne glass. You know how people tap their glasses with their cutlery to get the bride and groom to kiss? One of the girls at the table got a little overzealous and apparently broke hers. Whoops. And I missed it, too. Once dinner was over our silverware (resting on our plates) was taken away; we were all like, now how are we going to clink the glasses? We started getting creative. I grabbed my bread plate and tapped it against a glass; someone else tapped one glass against another; a third person tried a glass and the water carafe. Well, it seemed to work; the couple had been visiting the table next to ours and I saw them kiss after that. Sweet. :)
I enjoyed the speeches. One of John's brothers was the best man. He started by saying he wasn't known as a good speech-giver; when he found out people were taking bets on how long he could talk, the only slot left was the 90-100 minute slot, so we'd better sit tight. He actually ended up being pretty funny. I think my favorite line was something like, Jenny's a great catch for a great guy; it's a good thing John came along before that guy did. Nice. Gotta love brothers. Then Betsy, the matron of honor, got to do her speech. She started off by saying that in her family, they were very fair. What happened to one daughter happened to the other. So, in the interest of fairness...she did her speech as a song. See, at her wedding, Mike's best man performed a song to the tune of "Sweet Betsy from Pike," changing it to "Sweet Betsy and Mike." It was awesome, if a bit long, but we were encouraged to sing along to the chorus. With this, Betsy enlisted help from the band--like her wedding, there was a live band...the same band, even, perhaps--and got us all to clap along. Now, her song was to the tune of the Beverly Hillbillies theme, so it started off as, "Now listen to a story 'bout a guy named John..." Now you get the title of this entry, right? See, well, I know the bride in this here couple; that's why I changed the words. Anyway, the song was pretty cute and funny. I was impressed.
The band itself was pretty good. It was pretty big--there were your standard rock band pieces (singer, keyboard, guitar, bass, drums) along with horns (trumpet, trombone, saxes--one doubled on flute!). They did some interesting songs but aside from the Electric Slide (on CD while the band took a break), there weren't any typical fun wedding pieces. Oh, I'm sorry, they did "Hot, Hot, Hot" and we did a conga line to that. That was probably the song that got most of the room on their feet. But, well, most people didn't dance. That was kind of sad. I didn't have a partner, so I sort of had an excuse. But most people didn't want to get out there. The bride and groom did a good amount of dancing, which was nice to see, and John's parents were out there a LOT. His mom can cut a rug. But there was one couple that outdanced us all, and they were in their 60s, I'd say. The guy looked like Jerry Stiller but moved like...um...a guy far younger who was a really good dancer. He was the caboose of the conga line and he was literally kicking up his heels. It was awesome. Pretty much the only dancing I did for a long time was the conga line and the Electric Slide, and practically no one did the Slide! For shame! The music came on and Katie (the other high school friend) and I were like, no one's dancing; I told Katie I'd do it if she would. So we got out there and tried to figure out where to start. Eventually I caught the beat and started it up; Katie tried to follow but it took her a couple tries. But then a few more people came out...and a few more...and by the end we had probably 15-20 people out there. Awesome.
It was around that time that they did the bouquet and garter toss. I don't know, maybe everyone was just shy at this wedding, but hardly anyone came out for either. I was the first one out there for the bouquet. I reminded Jenny that she said she'd toss it to me, then one of her teacher friends came over and was like, you can just hand it over to me and make it easier. Um, no. We ended up with just five ladies out there. That's kind of sad. When Jenny tossed it it went over our heads. I managed to snatch it off the floor just before someone else did--that's how I was victorious. So, well, I didn't *actually* catch it, but I came home with it, and that's what counts. This was the second bouquet I've snatched off the floor; of the three bouquets I've gotten, I'd only legitimately caught Betsy's. Well, seeing how I caught both girls' bouquets, I think this makes me an official member of the family, right? Mrs. S (mother of the bride) told me she'd make my table decorations for my wedding. Well, I guess I'll have to get married to take her up on the offer, right? So there weren't a whole lot of bouquet catchers; there were even fewer for the garter. Whoa. Four guys came out--two teenage cousins of Jenny and Betsy, and two little boys who were sons of John's guests, I take it. Um...wait a minute...luckily the older of the cousins got the garter. However, there wasn't a picture of the two of us together, nor was there a dance. Ah well. That's okay. I was just relieved that this kid was older than the kid who got Betsy's garter.
I didn't want to stay *too* late; I kept thinking I'd leave at around 9. But when 9 came around, I wasn't ready to leave...even though the entire rest of my table had left. Yes, even the date of the bridesmaid...because even she left. There were two bridesmaids and Betsy in the wedding party; the other bridesmaid was like, I can't believe she wouldn't stay for the whole time! Well, I don't know what to say, but they were sort of rowdy. They straddled the line of fun and obnoxious. Frankly, I was kind of surprised that Jenny was friends with the girls because they were so wild, but whatever. I have to say, the one bridesmaid's date was interesting. He works for Motorola and had brought a new phone prototype with him and was showing it to us during dinner. I also noticed that he cut his food with the knife in his left hand and his fork in his right. I do that and I've never met anyone else that did that. I always thought it was dumb to cut the food with the knife in the right hand, set the knife down, and transfer the fork from the left to the right hand to eat, then start the process over. What a waste of time. I'm glad to see there is someone else out there who skips that pointless process. Anyway, after my table abandoned me, the other bridesmaid invited me to the table she'd joined, which was very nice of her. She knew Jenny from the Zion Passion Play and seemed more like Jenny's friend type. I'd met her at the shower--we sat at the same table--so it was nice to talk to her a little more. She was very into my dress and was one of the people to compliment me on my bracelet.
The reception wound down around 10. It took a while to say goodbyes and such; I was on the road by 10:30. The reception was in the shadow of Great America, which was sort of cool. Heck, the little kid in me would have been like, let's have the reception *at* Great America! Really, the road the place was off of was just down the street from a back entrance to the park. You could practically touch the Eagle. Man, I haven't been there in ages. *sigh* But no, time to go home. I figured I'd get home around midnight, which was right on. The only problem was, I'd wanted to leave at 9 to get home by 11, because I'm totally in bed by then. Whoops. So I was really tired when I got home, but of course I couldn't go right to bed. And then I was totally exhausted all day Sunday. I was good for nothing. Sunday was Father's Day, and I did manage to make my dad breakfast despite my half-asleep stupor, but otherwise that was it. I rested my eyes (but didn't actually sleep) a couple of times and just laid in bed for a good portion of the day. Mom did make me clean the bathrooms 'cause they were really bad, but that didn't happen until the late afternoon. It's pretty much taken me all week to get my energy level back up. But it's up, and I did have fun, so I'll call it a success.