A Big Fat Congratulations

I'm back in Charlotte, unpacked, and trying to remain calm in the face of the approaching school day tomorrow.  It's always hard to come back from vacations when they've been especially good, and this one ranks up there with the best of them.  That's probably due to the MAGNIFICENT wedding of my wonderful sister and her now-husband Ryan.  So as I am facing six-year-olds with dread, they'll be taking off on their honeymoon to Maui.  I'm only a little jealous.

Despite several blips, including an unruly guest nearly assaulting several key wedding players (I won't go into that), the wedding was (and I quote) the "BEST F***ING WEDDING EVER!"  This was said by one of my parents' friends who had just gotten married at the same place just six months earlier.  I think we made an impression.

One thing I love about my family is our ability to adapt.  Part of my maid of honor speech (which, I won't lie, might have been the best part of the whole debacle) was about how much Kristin is able to make the best of any situation she's in.  That might be genetic.  Even though none of us knew what to do during the ceremony thanks to a power struggle between Deacon Dean and Grace-Ann, the eighty-year-old wedding coordinator for the church, we still managed to pull it off without too much confusion.  Minus the fact that I was constantly standing three feet away from the lovely couple staring at them (most awkward was when they were lighting the Unity Candle).

If it made me realize anything though, it was the fact that when Kristin and I were little, we NEVER paid attention in church.  After we sat down to listen to the readings and the sermon, front and center with all the wedding guests staring at us, I realized that I had no idea what was happening.  I should know this stuff, shouldn't I?  After all, we had gone to church faithfully every Sunday, right after finishing up church school with our respective age groups.  And yet, here we were, in the church where we both got Confirmed, the church where I had learned (briefly) how to whistle, the church where Jon had snuck his Gameboy into one Christmas, and completely clueless about the whole getting married process.  Oh well.  We still rocked it.  AND the Deacon even mentioned Titanic in his sermon.  That reall has nothing to do with us rocking it, but it was awesome nonetheless.

The reception went as expected, with the 100 guests whipping through 59 bottles of wine and two and a half kegs.  It was New Years Eve, after all.  The only real problem (again, besides the disgruntled party guest) was the stomach bug that was going around.  I had it pretty bad the next morning, although it could have been due to the massive amounts of tequila the night before.  There's really no way of knowing.

The main thing, though, is that my sister is now HAPPILY married and she deserves it more than anyone I know.  As I said in my speech... she's spent her whole life getting other people to see the best in the mundane and the horrible, and she's finally found someone who does the same for her.  Congratulations!

Of course I'd pick a picture that included me, the highlight of the ceremony.

...and thanks for the great party.