Friday, Don and I celebrated our 16th wedding anniversary. Every year, we always laugh hysterically when we reminisce about our wedding. We definitely are not on any one’s list for the next episode of A Wedding Story. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Don’t believe me? Read on – just don’t drink anything while you read it. I cannot be held responsible for any liquids being spit on your keyboard.
You know, when you get engaged, you sit around and watch those stupid shows on TLC—Say Yes to the Dress, A Wedding Story, etc… Yeah, my wedding was NOTHING like that.
I’d say I had the video to prove it, but that’s part of the story.
So, here it goes.
I don’t think TLC will be calling me anytime soon.
Don and I got engaged at Christmas. We quickly made plans that we were going to go down to Gatlinburg and get married in a chapel and have a beautiful, SMALL wedding.
Then, my mom found out.
Next thing I know, its New Year’s Eve and we are planning a HUGE wedding at our church. We are talking bridesmaids, groomsmen, reception… the whole nine yards.
When my dad offered me money to elope, I should have taken it.
Fast forward to the rehearsal. My mom had gotten a call from the caterer’s wife. He was being rushed into emergency gallbladder surgery and she was going to do her best to make sure the food was at the hall.
Do her best?!
The next day, I walk outside to leave to decorate the hall and have my hair and makeup done… and drop my veil in the mud.
In the mud.
I go pick up my maid of honor and we head to the next town over to decorate the reception hall. My great aunt is there (she’s the same age as my mom, just so you get the full picture), her best friend, AND HER BEST FRIEND’S EX HUSBAND.
Obviously, THAT divorce wasn’t amicable.
So, we are decorating and the friend and her ex are SCREAMING at each other and rehashing their entire divorce.
When the bar opened next door, I was standing there ordering a drink.
Too bad my dad found me.
My maid of honor and I leave the happily divorced couple and head over to get our hair and makeup done.
Um, the girl that was doing my hair…
Out drinking the night before.
Forgot she had an appointment.
Arrived to do my hair looking like crap, wearing the same clothes she had on the night before, hung over, and smelling like smoke and booze.
By the time she was finished with my hair… okay, let’s be honest. By the time her boss was able to get her sorry butt to work and she did my hair and I had my makeup done… it was 2:00 pm.
Those pesky wedding invitations…. they said I was getting married at 2:30 p.m.
We were 15 minutes away from the church. Neither of us is dressed.
We come barreling into the parking lot and jump out of the car with our stuff… we are running into the room. I am literally taking off my shirt and my mom was taking off my pants. There were no calm “getting ready for the wedding pictures.” In fact, in my pre-wedding pictures, my aunt is UNDER my dress fluffing out my slip and underskirt.
Now… I obviously didn’t know this at the time… but the general consensus in the church was I had stood up Don. He even asked my mom, who reassured him that I was coming. My mom in a complete panic didn’t let on she thought I bailed.
Knowing the people at my wedding, I am sure there was some money changing hands…
We are dressed and ready to go in time… 2:30 on the dot, my friends.
My father, very sick with the flu, walks me down the aisle with his pants unzipped.
We get married. It was a beautiful ceremony.
So… here’s where the REAL fun begins.
I don’t have a videographer. The family friend who was doing it for us—his brother’s kids were dropped on his doorstep by children’s services and he couldn’t come.
My photographer went blind from diabetes two weeks after my wedding and all I have is the proofs.
Yes, I am serious. You can’t make this crap up.
I did have food at my reception. Thankfully.
Until the cops stole it. I kid you not.
Someone from the hall called the cops and told them there was leftover food and they came and got it. I guess I should be thankfully we were done eating.
Remember the drunk friend of my aunt’s? Well, she was absolutely wasted by the time we got to the reception… and she was in charge of cutting my cake.
I had a beautiful, delicious cake that no one ate.
Why, you ask?
Because she was cutting the cake, licking her fingers of icing, and then putting her saliva fingers back on my cake to cut the next piece.
Everyone at the reception saw, and no one bothered to tell us.
My story ends—not with the happily married couple leaving for their honeymoon early.
My story ends with my new husband and I helping clean the reception hall after the reception was over. Good times.
On a good note, our honeymoon was awesome… well, except for the ceramic heater in the room because it was so cold, but that’s another story…
We should have eloped.