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a wedding tale, part 1

A Wedding Tale: Part 1 (pictures not scanned yet)

The day was beautiful. Sunny, warm, not a cloud in the sky.

My aunt later said to me that the greatest moment was when I walked into the backyard for the ceremony and Justin, who was already standing at the trellis/arch had the sweetest look on his face. All together now - awwww.

My judges wrote a little script that stunned me in its beauty and eloquence. I really thought they would go for the funny stuff. But they didn't, and I think many people came away from the ceremony with a better understanding of how Justin and I fit together so well.

My eyes watered and my lips trembled as we got to the "I Do" part. My hand shook as I put the ring on his finger. My legs almost gave way as he kissed me for the first time as my husband. I was completely overwhelmed at the happiness and love and warmth that enveloped me at that moment. It is still with me now.

When we finallly kissed all our relatives and sat down for the first time that day, we put our left fists together, clicking our brand new wedding bands and said "Power Twins!"

Now, the party.

I got drunk. Really drunk. Not dance-naked-on-the-table-in-front-of-your-family drunk, but pass-out-at-9pm-on-your-wedding-night drunk. Which is probably just as bad.

The tequila binge did pay off, though. I wasn't nearly coherent enough to care what the DJ did. He kind of passed over the cds we gave him, explaining that most of the people at the party were holding their hands over their ears whenever he played one of our songs.

However, he found it perfectly fine to play Baby Got Back. Which was requested by Natalie. Which I pointed out to everyone.

I forgave him for the Nelly, and the Kylie made Chris happy and the Linkin Park made DJ happy, as he did his little metal rap motions for everyone. No one seemed to mind the Biz Markie or Grandmaster Flash, but everyone did look at Bonnie and I a bit weird when we dirty danced to some early 80's disco.

Then the DJ did the unthinkable. He played the Macarena. And the Electric Slide. And YMCA. All I can say is he is very, very lucky that he didn't put on the chicken dance or he would have walked out of the party with two less balls than he came in with.

The hits of the party were clearly Nancy and Chris. Every one of my guest remarked to me how nice and sweet and funny they were. The bartender was a little more interested in Nancy than he should have been and the little girls were a lot more interested in Chris than they should have been.

The food was good, the guests were happy and we are married. And isn't that all that matters.

Oh, and it will be a long time before I drink tequila again.

I'm sure I left a lot out, but we are tired and cranky and we cut our stay at the hotel short by one night because we missed our pillows and we missed our 120 channels and we missed the hamsters. Really, I kid you not. We just felt like coming home and honeymooning in our jammies, watching American Idol and playing Streetfighter. I guess when you live together for three years before you're married, a honeymoon seems redundant.

Justin is going to write his side of the wedding tale, and I'll put that up tommorow, along with the story of how we walked around Port Jefferson pretending we were Bruno Puntz Jones and Francesca Fiori, European spies with incredibly bad accents.