If you’re smart, you’ll only have one wedding in your lifetime. Not because of the silly social stigmas that people might brand on your chest for being married multiple times, but because weddings costs so damn much and because they are such a headache to put together. And because of those reasons, you’ll want to have everything go right the first time. After all, there is no Command+Z option in life, no undo button you can click.
Now that the dust has settled over my recent nuptials that took place just over two weeks ago, I’ve had time to reflect on the many joys of that moment – and all the blunders that occurred. Let this be a lesson to all fianced couples – mistakes will happen; it’s just how much you laugh about them afterward that counts.
They say consistency is key. Key, eh? Well, that’s just dandy.
We had two ceremonies – a modified traditional Vietnamese one at my parents’ house, and then a Western one at the beautiful Bonnet House and Gardens. And both ceremonies had LOUD interruptions during major speaking parts. Consistent, eh?
During the Vietnamese ceremony, it was the doorbell. The awkward, extremely loud and incredibly close doorbell. The ceremony took place just off my parents’ foyer, in the dining room area. It was a pretty casual affair, nothing too glitzy or fancy. My husband and I wore traditional Vietnamese ao dais, and my family set up a makeshift altar complete with four red fabric-covered dowry gifts. All was going well – my cousin officiated the ceremony with light-hearted humor and grace, I didn’t trip as I was walking down the stairs, yada yada. Then as my dad took to reciting an important Vietnamese passage, the unthinkable occurred. The dreaded doorbell rang. Somebody was late. And he let it be known. It turns out my parents installed a doorbell whose sound would wake a slumbering bear in mid-hibernation. Or, a slumbering parent who normally takes a 3 p.m. siesta.
And for the Western ceremony, it was the reassuring, soothing, gentle tones of a revved up Harley Davidson that interrupted me while I was saying my vows. It felt like that freakin’ engine was revving for about 10 minutes. It would not stop. Wherever the rider was going, he was not getting there fast enough. Our altar site at the Bonnet House butted against A1A (with a forested partition between the two), so what happened on A1A basically happened at our altar. Including this rider’s need to show off the fact he had a Harley.
Nameless, this person shall remain. But let’s just say never hire a person who can recite a poem aloud at a third-grade level, who barely knows how to talk in public, who gets nervous at the sight of more than four people in a crowd, and who cannot emcee an event. Big blunder on my part.
The Aftermath in the Newspaper
If you are ever fortunate enough to have your wedding written about in the newspaper, just make sure you are not quoted as saying you “made a sexual advance” at your husband during your college days only to have been “rejected.” At least the paper I was quoted as in saying that has a small circulation and isn’t very well known. I mean, it’s just the New York Times. Nobody reads that, right? (Read my quote here.)
The best part about all these blunders is that we can laugh about it. Even as they occurred, we were laughing. The worse thing you can do is take yourself too seriously – in general, but especially during your wedding – and it was easier for us to laugh about these snafus than to get mad about them. After all, there’s no Command+Z button to undo your anger.