I got married on Saturday. So, after so many years on this earth I am a Mrs. It feels very strange to write that (for those of you not invited, my apologies, it was a small intimate affair). The amazing thing about a wedding – well, there are many many things – is that no matter if you are a woman that has been planning it since you were five years old (I am NOT this woman) or if you are more like myself and the idea of planning it kept you up nights (after night after night) due to the sheer headache of it all, on the actual day, you can’t help but be utterly blown away by the experience. So hence, I suppose all those sleepless nights were worth it.
I suppose it is due to the fact that there are so many factors, that when they all successfully fall into place, help you arrive at this place of utter contentment. For me, having that many people around me that I love and adore (especially when wine is involved) makes me quite happy. What’s even better is that I somehow managed to do my own make-up and was able to cover up my insomnia, whilst pulling off a pair of very high shoes. Now that is cause for celebration. Then of course there are the little things: the good food, the hysterical non planned incidents that always seem to happen, the guest that gets too drunk (and serenades and dances around a pineapple – I shall not name names BR), the honeymoon suite that I don’t have to clean. Bliss.
And of course, I get to partake in my favorite past time on earth – no not eating, that’s a close second – which is dancing, and I do this with utter reckless abandon. As my partner…wait, MY HUSBAND, well tell you, I am an absolute maniac on the dance floor with no vanity or shame when it comes to busting out my moves. I think dancing is purely about feeling and vanity should be checked at the door with one’s eye bags. And trust me, dance I did. I danced so much I will be hobbled for the next twelve months, but damn did it feel good.
But of course the pinnacle of the night was that I got to walk down the aisle towards this amazing man…this incredibly hot, generous man (I’m newly married, so I was told to compliment him a lot) that is my best friend in the whole world. And when I got down the aisle, the look on his face was one I will never forget – of course I was so nervous I don’t remember much else, although I do remember that I kept trying to whisper things to him because I need to talk when I’m nervous. Surprising isn’t it?
So were the clichés all true – did the day go too fast? For certain. Do I wish I could do it all again? I’d do it tomorrow…and the next day, and the next. In fact, for someone that was never quite into the institution, the party is so kick ass, I highly recommend it to anyone. So, I’m off to clean the house…apparently that’s still in my job description despite my promotion…and don’t worry my fellow feminists; the husband has to clean the toilet. He’s not getting off that easy. Ah marriage, ain’t teamwork grand?