After: All of the Love

OMG LOOK AT THAT RING.
(Brunch Aftershock Picture.)

I wish that I had the time, immediately after the wedding, to capture everything that the day was: all of the joy, all of the laughter, all of the perfect bloopers, all of the friends and family truly becoming one community, all of the dancing, all of the love.

I didn't have that time right after the wedding. We stayed up dancing and karaoke-ing at the Best Unplanned Wedding After-Party Ever until 3 AM, which thanks to Daylight Savings Time was really 4 AM. Then we got up at 9 AM to have brunch with a bleary-eyed but beaming crew of friends and family. Then we had to drive three hours back home, continue packing...

... and the next day, we picked up a moving truck. Some of the very same amazing friends who helped us get married Saturday night showed up Monday morning to help us load a truck and move away from them.

As I said on Facebook, teary-eyed as I typed, that is the definition of Joy. Community. Love. The theme of our wedding, and God willing, the theme of our life.

Someday, I want to have time to share some of the amazing stories of love from the weekend and immediately following it. I mean, I did already share one brief hilarious blue-comedy bit. Now, I will share one sweeter moment:

Toward late afternoon, as the fiance HUSBAND was preparing to hit the road (yes, another week-long separation ahead), our friend Richard came over. When we let him in, he said, eyes alight: "I'm going back outside to get something set up! Don't come out until I knock again!"

Curious, tired, and obedient, we waited. A few minutes later, he knocked again. We stepped outside, and my eyes welled with tears for the thousandth time this week. When we stepped outside, this is what we saw:

Somehow, in the time between Sunday and Monday, while we packed and loaded and prepared for The Next Big Thing without any time to reflect and relax... Richard created an incredibly beautiful, moving memento - not only for us, but for our parents and our little wedding team. In his shop, he chopped up the beautiful twisted trees that had formed the base of our chuppah, and created candle sets for all of us. Wherever any of us go, we will now always have a small piece of our first official "home" as a married couple to take with us, and literally light our lives. Is there anything more lovely?

I don't have time, today, to reflect on all of the moments like this, from The Day and everything after. I still have too much packing to do, too much cleaning to do, to many hugs and quality time to squeeze in while I can. But for the record? I did have the time of my life that day. Getting married was awesome. It's pretty cool to say that the best wedding you ever went to was your own. It truly was the Best Day Ever.

And it's all because of the people. Our parents and siblings, our friends who are family. We didn't spend a lot of money on this wedding, relatively speaking, but we did spend a lot of time and energy and collaboration. It's overwhelming. I might not stop tearing up every few minutes for a good long time. Especially since the fiance HUSBAND is gone again, and I'm staying with precious friends (WSM-D and hubby-J) I can't imagine not seeing all the time, and the emotional roller coaster is far from over. But what a ride, y'all. 

What a beautiful ride.

We Did.

We got married, and it truly was the best day ever. I'll catch up on the backlog of blogs and all the stories of the beautiful day that was our gorgeous, hilarious, joy-community-love-filled wedding. For now, here's to all of that incredible love... and this:

7: Chuppah

How do you get the right chuppah?

The right ingredients, of course. Starting, first and foremost for us, with the right people.

As noted early on, our team has been and continues to be incredible. Our friend Richard the Master Builder was enlisted quite early to be our Chuppah Builder. More recently, WSM Diana and I went shopping for some fabric for the canopy-top of the chuppah. Turns out around that same time, Richard was out in the woods... chopping down some trees to really make a hand-hewn traditional wedding canopy.

He began the basic construction, and invited WSM-D and me to come help finalize the design and move toward final build yesterday. With a week to go, it was time.

I have no words for how beautiful this chuppah is going to be. Only an amazing feeling of gratitude. I think gratitude is going to be the Word of the Week, y'all. So instead of words, here are some pictures to document the day's work and preview the beauty to come...

A sturdy tree view...

Cutting the fabric with RL

Cutting up with the fabric (and can you spot the WSM?)

Experimenting with draping the fabric

Sewing the fabric once we found the right draping
(Thanks for the help, Lesley!)

Journeys & Destinations

Here's where the rehearsal dinner will be!

With just over a month to go, it was time for one last trip to W-Town. So the WSMs, the Chuppah Master, and I hit the road early Saturday morning.

First stop: Lunch at the Rehearsal Dinner Venue. The MOG & FOG met us at the Italian restaurant where they will be hosting the rehearsal dinner. It was a lovely visit, a lovely lunch, and we were able to compare notes on other items on #TheList.

Bonus: Delicious Italian foods means that the rehearsal dinner will fit right in with the "our wedding theme is carbs" plan.

Second Stop: Scouting Out the Venue. With a new floor plan in mind and our Chuppah Master on hand for the first time, we cast new eyes on the ol' venue and made a few important decisions.

This is how I make the fiance jealous.

Third Stop: Donuts. Again with the carbs. Also, this particular donut shop is D's favorite. How could I pass up the opportunity to have my friends snap a picture of me, enjoying-but-also-regretting enjoying one of those babies without him? (His reply when I texted him this photo: "My favorite person eating my favorite donuts? No fair!" Aww.)

Fourth Stop: The Open Bar. That's not the name, of course. But loyal readers will recall the tales of the not-actually stabby gay bar that is now our second home in W-Town. This time, no one's pants hit the floor. This time. (It was earlier in the day. And anyway, we'll be back.)

Fifth Stop: Night Lighting. We ran back to the venue right as it was closing, just to see what the lighting-at-dusk situation would really be. Good news: it'll work.

So much for small ice cream.

Sixth Stop: Sushi and Gas Stations. No, don't worry, not sushi in a gas station - sushi and several gas stations. Yeah, we actually stopped a couple of times on the three hour drive back home. (Luckily, when all the passengers have to pee frequently, none can judge.) Chuppah Master-R wasn't that hungry when we stopped for sushi, so he decided to just get a little ice cream. Lesson learned... there's no such thing as a little ice cream at that sushi place.

The trip was good, and the time with friends was even better. As WSM-D sweetly and astutely observed, these moments are what we'll remember. Maybe even more than the blur of the wedding day. Sharing jokes in a car. Stopping embarrassingly often to pee. Revealing a few secrets. Laughing.

The journey, even more than any destination.

59 Days To Go: My Team = Champions

Why, yes. Yes. That is a mug
covered in pictures of my fiance
dressed as a mad scientist.

Tonight I had a wedding logistics planning meeting with our WSMs and two other ensemble members: our decorations genius/designer, MQ, and our chuppah builder/production manager, RL.

I didn't take pictures tonight; I took notes. I took deep breaths. I did not for one moment take for granted how unbelievably fortunate I am to have friends like this in my life. Friends who don't think twice about going the extra mile for you; friends like family who see this event as a day of joy and commitment for them, too. It's nights like this that I feel shaky about leaving here. Leaving the friends that are family here.

But not living here full-time won't mean they aren't family anymore. That's not how family works. Family sticks, distance be damned.

Okay. I'm tired and quite literally about to fall asleep, and I'm babbling with my fingers now. I'm going to finish drinking my mug of Mexican Hot Chocolate out of my one-of-a-kind mug, and put myself to bed... and perhaps fall asleep to fewer stress dreams, thanks to the help of my friends. I'm confident my next update of #TheList will look healthy, and that, y'know, THE W WORD will actually happen and look pretty and it'll be because my team, in wedding planning and in life, is the best team.

...And Everyone's Still Talking About That Cake

I've started writing this post several times, and tripping over my words. Usually, that happens to me when I'm talking, not when I'm writing. But in this case, even when writing, I find myself at a bit of a loss. Sometimes that happens, when you're just completely overwhelmed by just how incredible the people around you are.

A few weeks ago, the parents were all in town. The MOB, FOB, MOG, and FOG all came in to see the show. The show, which was a lot of fun but also sucked up all the free time the fiance and I might have had. We hit the pause button on wedding planning. We certainly didn't have the bandwidth to put together a nice little party while our parents were in town.

So our friends did it for us - the world's best engagement party.

The Diva (Photo by FOG)

Our cherished friend Denise - AKA "the Diva" - was the amazing powerhouse behind the world's best engagement party. It was her idea, her coordination, her lovely and humbling gift. Denise is a director, and in addition to having a wonderful vision for this party, she assembled a stellar cast to help her; our friends Malaika and Nate, in particular, who helped with everything from decorations to collecting addresses from attendees.

There were several things that made this the world's best engagement party, but two things stand out above all: the people who were there, an assembly of family and urban family whose love and support filled the room to overflowing... AND THE CRAZY AWESOME CAKE.

THE CRAZY AWESOME CAKE.

People are still talking about that cake. Because it was crazy awesome. And perfect.

It was an intimate and lovely evening. Denise supplied champagne and invited guests to make toasts. Many toasts were made, some funny, some poignant (my dad promised he wouldn't tear up during his, but then did anyway), and concluded with a toast from the hostess herself, along with a Khalil Gibran poem.

Leaving that night, I felt so incredibly blessed. So undeservedly fortunate. Denise's generosity, and the goodwill of our loved ones, is more than I can ever adequately respond to with enough thanks. Re-living it all again, I'm a blubbering mess, y'all. (And that's just over the engagement party. Imagine me at the freaking wedding. The off-season, ugly-girl-crying bride...)

Revelers! (Photo by Wayne Thomas)

I would go on and on, but I'd just get more emotional. So instead I'll just say thank you. Thank you, Diva. Thank you, urban family. From the bottom of my (ugly-girl-crying) heart.

Us (Photo by FOG)

“Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls...” - Kahlil Gibran

This Little Light of Ours

As my loyal readers (all ten of you beautiful creatures) may recall, the fiancé and I don't have the most romantic of proposal stories. This is not a surprise, really. "Romantic" is not a word frequently used to characterize us - but never say never.

Unbeknownst to  the fiancé, I saved the bottle of wine we were drinking that night. I hid it in the kitchen, because I had plans for that bottle. Big plans. At one point, when I was gone, he found the empty hidden bottle and put it in the recycling bin. Luckily, I noticed it, retrieved it, and did a better job of hiding it... until I could get it to my friend Juniper.

Because my friend Juniper's husband Del takes bottles, and makes art; functional art, no less - objects like lamps. While that's cool any day of the week, I thought it would be particularly perfect to preserve the modest little bottle of red with which we toasted our engagement. What better way to preserve it than to have an artist transform it into something that would continue to illuminate?

Many thanks, Juniper and Del. This little bottle will be with us for quite some time, and we're gonna let it shine.

On Equal Hearts and Broken Glass (Or, One Mississippi Bride-To-Be Reflects on Today)

Today. Because of today’s Supreme Court decisions, I am going to jump ahead to a topic I wasn’t going to address here just yet. But here we are, so here we go: equality, y’all.

Cake Topper Couple-Approved (Image from Reuters)

Today’s news from the Supreme Court is causing big reactions. In most of my personal circles (most, but not all) the reactions are overwhelmingly joyous, hopeful, relieved, proud. But even among those reacting joyfully, there is hesitation. A quick tempering of the joy. Because this not an end-all, be-all victory. It’s just one more step.

The SCOTUS blog provides  “in plain English” a good, succinct overview of what today’s rulings on the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) and California's Proposition 8 (Prop 8) do and do not mean. Cracked puts together a pretty snarky overview, as well, for those who need it (incidentally, d’you see which state they give as the example of “you’re still outta luck?” Yeah, that’d be Mississippi).

I have always considered myself equality-minded, but over the years I have developed a more nuanced relationship with the equality movement, on all fronts. I believe equality means everyone, at the expense of no one. That whatever your ethnicity, orientation, identity, financial reality – by virtue of being a person, the baseline should be that people are equal.

We are so far from there.

I’ve been made hyper-aware of my own privilege – and while equality does not just mean marriage equality, let me tell you, thinking about my own upcoming marriage, not as a hypothetical but as an on-the-calendar-reality… that privilege has been highlighted, underlined, and exclamation-pointed in my mind lately. Something to think about, something to act on, something not to take for granted. A little over a year ago, I was thinking about the difference between hoping to get married vs. hoping to be legally permitted to do so, and pondering the inequality inherent in that difference.

So, it's probably not a surprise to anyone who knows me well that I’ve been thinking, already, about ways we can acknowledge equality at our wedding. The two of us making a contribution to an equality-focused charity in honor of our nuptials. Distributing white knots for equality on the big day. And something very personal, spiritually speaking: shattering some glass.

Caution: Breakable.

Breaking a glass is a traditional part of the Jewish wedding ceremony. It’s the one part everyone knows about – you break a glass and yell mazel tov, right? Right! But why do we break a glass? There are many explanations; most of them revolve around the idea that even on your most joyous day, you should take a moment to acknowledge that there is pain in the world. Whether it commemorates oppression, the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, the fragility of life—or inequality. 

And that’s what I’ll be thinking about when the cup shatters on our wedding day: inequality. The pain that will exist until everyone has equal rights, including the legal right to marry the love of their life.

I know some straight folks who have vowed that they will not marry until all of their friends can, too. That is noble, and to be honest, I considered that choice. But in the end, I want the legal protections of marriage. I want them for myself, for my partner, and yes, for everyone – and I couldn’t see how refraining, myself, would help anyone. And I can see how raising my voice, as a married person, to say: “Our marriage is not threatened by marriage equality, it’s strengthened by it!” might even be helpful.

Because that’s what I believe. DOMA was never defending our future marriage, or anyone else’s – what it was doing instead was attacking the marriage rights of many.

It wasn’t defensive, on any level. It was offensive, on many.

Today’s news does not represent the end of a movement, but it does represent forward movement. A big, important step. And if you ask me, any step forward is worth celebrating; and while I still know that my partner and I are incredibly privileged to be planning the wedding we’re planning, I’m also feeling a little more optimistic today that soon that privilege will become a right for so many more people.

Talk about off season. This day is long overdue. So, with a little tempering of the joy but also a good dose of mazel tov, here's to dancing with each step forward, white knots, broken glasses, and hearts full of love.

L’chaim!

I Didn't Go To My 10 Year Reunion

Class of 2003

This weekend was my 10 year college reunion. I didn't go.

However, thanks to social media, I've seen posts aplenty about the event. Though I've been busy with other commitments all weekend, I've had these little reminders keeping this milestone in the back of my mind.

And so, in honor of my 10th college reunion, here are the top ten reasons I didn't go back to campus.

10. Facebook. I seriously blame social media in general, and Facebook in particular, for making reunions seem increasingly obsolete. You got married? Had a baby? Spent time in Ghana? I'd ask you to tell me about it, but I already totally liked all of this. As it was happening.

9. Denial. I can't believe it's been ten years since I went off to college! It seems like only yesterday I was packing my bags to head to Boston and -- wait wait wait, what? It's been ten years since I finished (not started... finished) my undergraduate career?! Nope. That can't be right.

8. Budget. Plane tickets, hotel room, public transit or rental car, class gift, meals out, registration - um, that'd all add up really quickly. (I think I'd also be the only member of my class traveling from Mississippi to Massachusetts. From what I've seen, it looks like most folks are coming from, say, NYC to Boston; an easier trip.) This year has already been stacked with travel, with more ahead... oh, and, yeah - kiiiiiinda planning a wedding, which apparently, isn't cheap. Also, re: plane tickets - that could also mean puke.

7. Weddings & Funerals. The honest truth is, between weddings, funerals, and planned encounters... I'm lucky enough to be able to say that within the past couple of years, I've seen all of my best college friends; more than once, in some instances. We don't need reunions to connect us with those we hold most dear. Reunions are for bringing "the gang" back together.

6. Gang? What Gang? Right, speaking of which... I was part of several different circles when I was in college. But some of them were multiple-year (i.e., sophomores, juniors, seniors - with so many of my friends a year or two older or younger than I, they wouldn't be at this reunion) and others, frankly, fell apart as soon as we tossed our caps in the air. What "gang" would I have at a reunion?

5. I Suck at Schmoozing  The next critical consideration, for a girl without a gang: I suck at schmoozing. More accurately, I don't enjoy it. I'm actually a pretty decent small-talker when I need to be (Theater Background + Life In The South = Excellent Small Talk Training). But I find it exhausting. My introverted self shivers just thinking about it. Reunions are a small talk smorgasbord, and I. just. can't.

4. I Said Bye-Bye, College. Since I haven't made it clear yet in this post, I should say - I appreciated, valued, and (mostly) enjoyed my undergraduate experience. But when graduation rolled around, I was ready. I haven't been missing the college, or wanting to re-live those years. I didn't meet my future husband there (just went through some nasty breakups). I don't have any "special campus spot" I need to re-visit. Most of the moments that resonated most with me were fleeting - onstage and backstage, off-campus with friends, in the classroom (YES, I'm a nerd and some of my fondest college memories were in a classroom). Moments that had to be let go as soon as they happened. I let them go; and when I graduated, I let college go.

Romy & Michele: Winning.

3. The Game. This is sort of the classic reason people dread reunions: The Game. Who got married? Who had kids? Who has a successful career? Who got fat? Who's unemployed? Who's winning at life, and who's losing?

In addition to already pretty much knowing all of this information (see #10 above), the idea of competitive chit chat makes me break out in hives (see #5 above). As for me, am I where I thought I'd be, ten years out? Nope. But I don't feel like I'm losing.

2. I Had Other Plans. Legitimately, this weekend was a bad one for me: my life, here and now, had multiple demands on me. An organization I'm currently president of celebrated its 10th year with a big event; I had to skip out on an annual banquet for another organization I'm on the board of here in Mississippi. Reminiscing about then might have been more appealing if I didn't have even more going on now.

1. There's Always Our 20th. Right, y'all? Excuses aside, I'm not off the reunion hook - at least, not nostalgia-wise. I'm still thinking about the milestone; all that has and has not happened in the last ten years, all that may or may not happen in the next ten. I wish only good things for my classmates. I'll continue the visits and Facebooking. And who knows? Maybe in another ten years, I'll be a better schmoozer.

In the meantime, The Fiance confessed that he didn't even know when his ten year reunion took place, though it would have been five years ago. The reminder that I'm always and forever five years younger than he is made me feel better. ;-)