I knew how much the ceremony meant to me before the wedding, as we made choices about what passages and words would be said.  I read it tearily to myself a few times, imagining the words being spoken on our wedding day.  What I didn’t imagine was how powerful it would be to me after our wedding, how special and how meaningful.

At my first marriage we didn’t really have to say anything when we got married in City Hall except “I do.”  We did exchange some sort of vows in our backyard quite a few months later–that was the extent of the ceremony.  I put off writing my vows, then did it quickly that morning.  They seemed less important than picking up the indian food from around the corner.

I no longer think this.  I think the ceremony is the heart of the wedding.  It contains a legal act–and potentially a religious one–but also, perhaps because it is ceremonial, something magical.  The ceremony is a spell you weave over yourselves and your audience.  The ceremony is powerful; the vows are binding.  It is worth spending some time on, because it is infused with great joy and emotion that lasts long after the wedding.

1) It was worth every penny we spent on it.  Looking back on our wedding the next day I felt nothing but deep satisfaction.  As someone who has been involved in a number of productions and always feels that things could have turned out better, this is quite (delightfully) out of character.

2) It was lovely and every thing went smoothly.  It wasn’t hot.  We had plenty of alcohol.  People smiled.  The speeches were touching and everyone seemed to like everything: the food, the DJ, the flowers, the location.  Even my dress.  My mom looked genuinely happy.  The owner of our venue told me that if I ever wanted a different line of work, I could become a event coordinator.  A flattering and terrifying thought.

3) It’s really true what they say.  I was in a total daze.  I barely heard all the beautiful words of our officiant because I was struggling to take it all in.  It truly was like I was up in the clouds and I just touched down occasionally, not necessarily at the moments you would think: oh look, they are giving me a salad!  And then I went back up into dazed bridey-bride land.

4) I married the man I love.  There is one photo (even the pictures came out great!) of him smiling a me during the ceremony.  I carry this image in my heart, right next to memory of standing up there with him looking at him and not registering much else of anything.  We got married, and it was swell.

So after I tried it on, I turned to the woman who zipped me up and said, completely insecurely, “Is it ok?”  She asked me when my wedding was and then imparted some advice, “Don’t eat for the next week.”  I was sort of stunned.  ”You think?”  I asked.  She nodded sagely, “Just drink water.”

Needless to say, I will not just be drinking water for the next week.  But all my fears about not being lovely enough were unfortunately confirmed by a (I truly believe!) well-intentioned lady in alterations.  I have been trying to do all the right things; I guess she just felt I could do more.  I never expected to look like a glamourous princess on my wedding day; I was however hoping for very pretty.  Perhaps after a good nights sleep I will feel the rage towards this poor lady and admire myself in the mirror for hours, but today it is not so good.

P.S. I should add that many of my friends and fiance threatened to go beat up this lady and assured me that I would look beautiful wearing a sack.  Which is why great friends and marrying the man you love is the best measure of wedding success I can think of.

I am overwhelmed with joy.  And not because of my dress, the cake, or any of that bullshit.  Because it is, let’s face it, beautiful, pretty, very fun bullshit.  I am overwhelmed and close-to-tears pretty much a lot of the time because I feel so fortunate that I am going to get to marry the man I love.  It sounds so silly.  But as someone who was married before–and loved her ex–I did not know that it could feel this way.  I can’t wait to marry him, to be married to him.  I would do it in our messy living room in my pajamas this very moment.  We have a really cool officiant–I think she would be all for it.  I am excited that our family and friends will be there.  I am excited that we will have good wine, and a great DJ.  But it turns out none of it actually matters.  What matters is that I will get to be his wife and he will get to be my husband.  It turns out my wedding fantasy wasn’t Catalina after all.  My wedding fantasy was to feel honored, happy, lucky, a little nervous, and so, so much teary-eyed joy.  I hope that is what you get to feel too, because I believe it must be one of the best feelings in the world.

Anyone have a suggestion for an amazing photographer in the LA area who is willing to shoot a wedding for LESS than the GNP of a small sub-Saharan nation?

The other weekend, in the middle of our great refinancing efforts, the man I love asked me why I had bought the house with my ex in the first place.  I explained: My ex and I had bought the house when we got married because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time: we needed space, real estate prices were still lowish, we had the opportunity, etc.  Fair enough.  But as I was talking through all of this, a great fear came over me.  Here I am, about to get married to the man I love, and it also seems like the right thing to do at this time.  But what if it is not?  Why if I have no judgment/am wrong/am fooling myself/am about to make a terrible mistake?  Because I was wrong once before.  Why should I trust myself again?

Building faith with yourself in regards to your romantic choices is an interesting process.  It happens over time.  I definitely gave myself that time to relearn who I was and think about who i wanted to be with.  I am currently with the man I love, not only because I love him, but because we work.  I believe we can build a life together; I want to.  I do trust that.  But, occasionally, something will trigger the great fear.

Here’s what I don’t want in a dress: pick-ups, taffeta, a long train, lots of beading.  That eliminates about 95% of dresses right there.  Add in my budget constraints and you got not a lot.  I don’t want something too casual—my man is in a tux—but I don’t want too heavy/formal—because, dude, it’s June and I’m in a garden.  Let’s let the flowers twinkle, not the beading.

I also am not interested in buying a dress because it photographs well.  It really bugged me when someone said this, as if that was the only consideration.  I will be wearing the dress—not posing in it.  I want it to feel like something, to inspire, because that is what great clothing does, it puts you in the mood.  I want to be put in the mood to stand solemnly and then jump around like crazy. So if I’m wearing something that is the weight of body armor, I am guessing that will be a problem.

I’ve seen what’s out there, and I’m going back to dress #1.