Saturday, November 12, 2011

52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History: Wedding

Some girls dream about their wedding day, planning all the details and perfecting it in their minds.

I was not that girl.

Within five minutes of meeting Marc, at the grand ol’ age of 17, I knew that I would be with him forever.  A paper signed by the State wouldn’t make me feel any differently.  We moved in together nearly right away and after three years, we found ourselves getting married.  Neither remembers proposing, but suddenly we were engaged.  And Marc wanted a wedding (rather than my idea of running away to Vegas), I agreed, and then a wedding was being planned.  For the most part, we let our moms do whatever they wanted. 

Our ceremony was at Grace Lutheran Church in Palo Alto, California, despite us not being Lutheran (the church was so pretty…).  We had to go to a pre-marriage class where Teri Garr portrayed a wife in scenes showing the right and wrong ways to hash things out.  We hated the classes, but loved the Teri Garr part.  Can't find it on YouTube, though.

Our reception was in my friend’s parents’ house and yard.  It was catered and there were flowers, but I really have no serious recollection of any details of any of the day.  I remember no one went into the pool.  I remember that Marc had a plastic cow in his pocket at the altar.  I remember family and friends and The Guy.  You know, the guy your friend is dating and brings to your wedding and he’s in all the pictures but they break up a week after your wedding?  That guy.

I also remember my dress.  I refused to spend a lot of money and I refused to wear something foo-foo-ey.  I wanted cheap, pretty, and simple.  Yeah… good luck with that.  I went to twenty seven billion bridal shops and perused a jillion magazines and found nothing I even remotely liked.  My friend was with me one disappointing day and I was so annoyed and discouraged that we decided to go to Nordstrom (they had a bridal department at the time).  We thought it would be a hoot to check out their hideous, hideously expensive dresses.  There was one that was over $10,000 and so elaborate and awful.  Our giggles began.  We went through the racks laughing out loud at them.  Then we came to one and I said, “Hey, I actually like this one!  It’s simple but elegant and different.”  Then I laughed to find out how much.  “TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS?!?!” I shouted.

The invisible sales woman who we’d banished so that we could laugh appeared and said, “No, it’s $250.”  And so I bought it.

We’ve now been married for 23 years, three months and 6 days.  We have two awesome children, two cats, a dog and the dress is somewhere in the garage.   

Guess what decade this was... and we thought we were so cool...

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