The Big Event - Part 3

I'd like to say that the night before my wedding I slept restlessly, in fits and starts. You hear all kinds of stories about people not sleeping a wink, waking at dawn because they're too excited. Well, I hate to disappoint, but I slept like a baby. The bed to myself (David had wisely chosen to stay with Meg that night), I slept early and often. I'm not sure what time we woke up, but I do know I received at least two calls from Gabe before my feet ever touched the floor. I was relaxed, I was calm....I was hungry. Again, I corralled the troops and got us all downstairs just in time to check out. We went back to Water Street Cafe, site of the successful breakfast the day before, and why not try it again. We got the same table by the window and had another great meal. On the walk back, we couldn't resist taking some pictures of a pretty terrific street sign....ok, unfortunately I can't find it right now. But it's this street right in downtown Geneva called South Exchange Street. S. Exhange St. You put it together.

Next, I'm pretty sure we headed over to the castle to start getting ready. I apologize for the fogginess, it's coming up on two months past, so I'm trying to piece it together before it all fades. Anyway, the menfolk and their various friends/SO's found their way to the Ice House, this little cottage on the grounds of the castle. We hung out, watched soccer (it being the World Cup during this time), and basically tried to relax. I have very little doubt that most (if not all) of us would have gone out partially clothed, disheveled, and helpless had it not been for the assistance of Meg, Jesseca, and Bekah, and my thanks to them is unending. We had some wine, made some toasts, and took a few shots with the photographer. Pete composed his best man speech a good 30-40 minutes prior to the ceremony (sorry Pete, another dig), and I did my best to keep from spilling anything on myself. Before long, it was time to go.

We all walked as a group over to the ballroom in our tuxes. The pictures make it look very Reservoir Dogs-esque. It felt pretty cool watching people gawk. Well, maybe no one was gawking. But at least a few people were looking at us. Then there was some hanging out in the ballroom, some last minute words from the wedding coordinator, some shenanigans and tomfoolery with the guys, some moments of quiet contemplation, some hellos from guests who found their way into the ballroom. All of a sudden, it was time to go out. We made our way to the top of the stairs outside, looking down on the ceremony site. We stayed there for a little while, apparently being watched the entire time from above by the ladies, who were hiding out in the Tower Suite. At the appropriate time, we followed the judge, duckling-like, to the front of the site. I waited. Bridesmaids started walking down. Kia appeared. Got a little misty. The ceremony proceeded. It was great. Just what I think we both wanted. We got to say things to each other, some better-heard by the audience then others, I think. We heard music. We heard the judge speak to us. We kissed. And that was that. Pretty quick, all things considered.

There were pictures after the ceremony, of course. As much as I wanted to go party, I'm glad we did it. There are some pretty priceless ones. The one of Kia picking food from my teeth is especially precious. Eventually, pictures finished up, we went back inside, did some last minute practicing of our dance, and one by one the couples started being introduced. Kia and I entered to thunderous applause, did our dance ("By My Side" by Ben Harper), then sat and got to eat. For the first time in a while, we got to actually sit and take things in. Absorb. Consider what had happened already that day. I do have this to say: getting married is like graduating from college and going to the prom, all in the same day. Overwhelming, emotional, and pretty wonderful.

The reception was great. What food I did eat was good, the cake was tasty. Pete and Kristin made great speeches, as did Kia's dad. People danced, particularly Dave. (I think he danced with nearly everyone at the reception, male or female. Again, I wish I could locate the pictures to back this claim up, but you'll just have to believe me.) We made it to all the tables to say hi. We didn't have a Table 9, out of respect for those who might be at it (see "The Wedding Singer" for the reference). Eventually, Kia and I got to dance as well. Of course it was all over much too fast. It felt like it was just beginning when "New York, New York" was winding down. Fortunately, we were able to have a lot of our friends up to the aforementioned Tower Suite for an afterparty of sorts. I can't be sure where all of the stuff came from that eventually made it to our room. Glasses, silverware, pizzas, boxes of beer and soft drinks...it was a second reception. I'm glad everyone came up, so we could see them in a more relaxed atmosphere. After a while, everyone cleared out and we had the room to ourselves...until Kia realized she was missing her camera.

Performing my first duty as her husband, I dutifully made my way back outside and over to one of the cottages where the party had been transplanted. The response when I entered was something between surprise, curiosity, and disgust. What the hell was I doing there on my wedding night?? I made a good search of the whole house, but no camera was to be found. It'll surely turn up in the morning. I went back to the room, disappointed in my ability to successfully perform my first duty. Just as I was rummaging through some clothes and telling Kia that I couldn't find her camera, there it was. On a chair, under the clothes. I guess I was a good husband after all.