Seattle: Aug 18...The Wedding!

Here comes the bride..

 

From the moment my eyes popped open close to 11am, this song was in my head for after all it was indeed wedding day!

 

And of course as I'm sure many married people are want to do, they reflect upon their own weddings.  I did the same as I went through the day taking a leisurely drive around the local area.  Again that day I had no intention of stressing myself out since eventually I would have to go back to the hotel to get ready for the event but even through it all, I thought of a day 17 years that would earmark the beginning of the rest of my life.  Nervous, anxious, excited, almost dreading it, I woke up that morning knowing that nothing would be the same again.    I had been 23, innocent and scared sh*tless.  And after being bedecked in a burgundy sari that boasted heavy gold embroidery, jeweled to within an inch of my life and the veil gently laid over my head, I took those first few steps into my new world.  There are a thousand minute memories that escape me from that day but how I felt I could never forget.

 

I wondered how H was doing as she was getting prepared for a pretty big day of her life.  I pictured her in my head being surrounded by her bridesmaids as she dressed.  I could almost hear the gasps of awe as she finished donning her wedding gown and being praised roundly for her radiant beauty.  Did her hand tremble?  Did her heart beat out of control?  Was she taking long deep breaths?  This bride wasn't the type who enjoyed attention brought onto her but still...a bride is a bride and nerves often got the best of us in such situations.  I hoped that her soft spoken family was there to lend her silent support and encouraging smiles.  I was fairly sure they would be.  These were the images that went through my head, the questions I was pondering as I leaning into my mirror to apply eyeliner, as I slipped into my own dress and grimaced as I put the heels on wondering how deformed my feet would be by the end of the night.  As for Fo, well I didn't have to even think for a moment as to how he was doing because I was fairly positive that he was calm and almost blasé if history was anything to go by.  Basically, my friend was fine, I had no doubt.  He too had his family about so I wasn't in the least concerned.

 

Getting ready for the wedding was actually about the least stressful thing in the world for me.  I had long ago made the decision to wear the same outfit I wore for Eid, thinking black would be appropriate.  And also I didn't have to shove P out of the way for space, although I missed not shoving him out of the way for space.  *sigh* There was one added benefit from this wedding, and other non-desi weddings, which is/was that unlike desi affairs, these were simpler and I knew that wearing even the most un-fussy salwar kameez would be acceptable and smiled upon while in Indian/Pakistani/Bangladeshi knot tying every little detail of the women (not the men) guests were inspected and criticized regardless of whether you were a part of the bridal party or not.  In desi weddings, absolutely everyone was attempting to shine everyone else.  Quite a sight actually.  And there was no fear of outdoing the bride because absolutely no one could possibly be more glamorous than her.  No possible way.  Don't believe me?  Well go off and Google "Indian bride" and you'll know precisely what I mean.  And thanks to the 1001 events that usually leads to the blessed day, people have to plan way ahead in agonizing detail as to precisely what they'll wear and god forbid there should be repeats...bah.  Nothing but stressful.

 

After prissying myself up, I drove to the hotel where the rest of the folks were staying (one that proved to be too pricey for me in the long run since I was camping out in Seattle for much longer than everyone else) so that I could catch a shuttle to the wedding location, a cellar somewhere up a mountain that I had no interest in traversing.

 

The guests on the bus were in good spirits.  I sat next to Fo's lovely mother who was chatting with me about India food and I told her I would happily give her recipes since she loved herself some desi edibles.  She clasped my hand in delight as Fo's brother, who sat on the other side of me, elbowed me playfully and his sisters behind me were commenting on this or that, their words making me giggle.  I realized then how truly comfortable I was with these folks in less than 24 hours. 

 

We arrived at the venue and I was instantly in awe.  Quiet, serene, indeed up in the mountains completely surrounded by thick walls of trees, there was no other sound then the guests commenting about the beauty of nature and yes indeed, the sounds of nature itself.  We were greeted warmly by H's bridesmaids and guided down a rustic stone staircase that led to where the outdoor ceremony would be.  I prayed silently that I didn't take a facer in my strappy black heels.  There were only about 35 chairs set up, in neat rows, a small 4 piece string quartet played classical music (a passion of Fo's) and the alter was so simple yet so appropriate, blending in with the ambiance perfectly.  Made of branches it was a square chuppah-like structure, without the draping, completely open and only adorned with the barest amount of clustered flowers at the corners and a few wine barrels (empty I presumed unless Fo planned to tap a keg, which I doubt H would allow, at least not that that precise moment) placed about the space making everything all that rustic.

 

There was a small debate by his family members as to what side we're supposed to sit but I assured them that it's the right and so we all plunked down armed with refreshments.  Eventually the music slightly changed, we turned and saw the processional, first came the smiling tall white haired female pastor (I think she was, maybe a minister?  I'm not sure...I mean is there a difference?  God I'm so ignorant about these things.), next was a beaming but impressively contained groom escorting his mother.  She was wearing a lovely black and off-white (maybe gold) sheath dress, her son looking handsome in his black suit and white tie with a big grin plastered to his face.  After they took their places came M, Fo's bro looking quite solemn, more so than I had yet to witness him being since having met him a day before.  After that came H's sister/matron-of-honor in a gorgeous beaded champagne color wispy chiffon gown looking shy but beautiful and last but never ever the least came the gorgeous bride in a strapless form-fitting gown with a chiffon overlay and delicate beading.  Her hair had been pulled back into a twisty yet elegant chignon and she clutched in her hands a bouquet off-white flowers (I wish I knew precisely what they were called) with a scattering of roses. Guiding the shy, indeed blushing but glowing bride to the alter was her older brother looking proud, a small smile playing about his lips. 

 

 

You know, I've talked to Fo, even when he was still in D.C. about his wedding, what it would be like.  He'd always been open to eloping and ignoring the whole traditional big wedding thing.  It wasn't because he didn't like the fuss (which he didn't/wouldn't/doesn't) but rather it would be in character to the person he was...so laid back and adverse to targeted attention upon himself that eloping would make more sense.  However, he was/is also the type of person who would not blatantly snatch away the right to this day from the woman he loved and would jump in with equal enthusiasm.  I hate to type this out for him to read but indeed, he is a fairly considerate person (*barf*).  But if I had to imagine him and H in any scenario, drawn in my head a sketch of what would best fit them, it would indeed be precisely what was unfolding before us.  These two had taken their personalities, the very essence of them, and made it come to life in this intimate, small, tasteful elegant wedding. 

 

They were joined under that beautiful arbor, a short ceremony but filled with joy and simplicity.  Did I mention that the ceremony was short?  No honestly, short.  A welcome, the vows, exchanging of rings, smooch, done.  This did not surprise me knowing the couple who themselves were no-fuss sorta folks.  They left to a gale of claps and hoots, leading the way back up the stone stairs to the area that would host the reception. 

 

When I went to give my friend a big hug, congratulating him on finally getting hitched, he grinned down at me and expelled a quick breath.  I could totally understand.  It was so time to party.

 

To describe the reception would take too long, to show u how it looked would be far easier as well as faster, so here is the one and only picture I'm willing to share from that day.  I'm sure you all can understand that out of full respect for my friends, I would never flash their wedding pictures all over the Internet (or at least not in my blog) without their full consent and I don't feel like asking them if it's okay, figuring that it would put them in an awkward position...so here it is, sans any actual pictures of any of the main characters of this story:

 

As you can see, it was simple and beautiful...wait, I lied, here's one more picture below, because it shows precisely how gorg the space looked in the darkness of the night as well...this time you can see shapes but not clearly so I think this should still be okay:

 

Okay so this picture is from a bit far away but if you can see carefully, the sky was radiant with moonlight, literally illuminating the world above and casting a glow on the partiers below.  It was as if we were cradled in darkness.  Does that make sense?  The whole occasion could only best be described as a celebration, indeed a party really.  The food, once again, was amazing and I ate my full, even eyeing the empty space next to me, clearly of a missing guest, wondering if I couldn't ask the server for that persons portion as well.  For all that I had prior to this avoided food, and post this would go back to avoiding it, seemed to diminish for that night, I was starved (even though the appetizers had been yummo as well).  The drinks flowed like...well wine.  Hell it was a vineyard so that would make sense, right?  The folks whom I sat with were friendly and chatty, conversation easy and before long we were all behaving like old friends.  Actually one of the women at the table was in fact someone I knew...I suppose we were 'old friends' in that sense.  

 

After a long leisurely dinner the cake was cut.  I was surprised that they would even hold to this tradition, particularly for this non-traditional couple but it was sweet watching them feed each other.  It was sweeter to watch their guests demanding kisses to be exchanged between them and how adorably demure H was, blushing each and every time.  I was very, very shocked that Fo didn't try to crush H with cake in the face but was relieved that he hadn't because her make-up was flawless and if there was ever a time not to ruin a woman's make-up, it was at her wedding.  There was plenty of chocolate to appease all since Fo was a huge chocoholic plus additional and varied delicate lil pastries for those who didn't like chocolate (seriously, who are these aliens?).  The DJ had started to play outside (the cake had been cut directly off the dining patio) but the floor was yet to be occupied.

 

Soon though that situation was taken care of as Fo's mom and sister went out onto the stone dance floor and began to shake their groove thang, shake their groove thang...yea yea!  (Wow, how lame am I?)  I'm not shy about dancing either, so with a shrug I joined and sooner than later the bride and her friends also shook what their mommas gave them.  I looked around and asked H where her husband was and when were they going to do their first dance.  She said he hadn't wanted one (big shocker) and that she was okay with it, she didn't want all the attention.  Still, I could see that she wanted him at least out on the floor so in my normally bossy way I stomped inside, excused him from those he was chatting amicably with and demanded that he come dance.  Honestly Fo had no choice as I literally dragged him out.

 

Now, Fo, my newlywed buddy, is a wonderful mix of black and white and one would think that at least the black half gave him some rhythm...yes I understand this is a terribly 'stereotypical' if not downright 'racist' thing of me to say but seriously, his mother and sister were kick ass dancers...one would assume...

 

Here's a flash from the past, picture this:  2007 Christmas office party...huge glittery event at the Ritz Carlton in D.C...everyone having a lot of fun.  Suddenly a colleague of mine ("M"), also Fo's secretary, comes up to me, grabs my arm and hauls me away towards the dance floor.  I protest, telling her I'm waiting for P to come back.  She says "girl you got to see this."  Curious I followed and then stopped, staring with my mouth dropped open.  I turn to M and say in confusion, "what is he doing?" eyeing Fo who was doing something that I couldn't identify for sure but assumed it was 'dancing'.  After all there was music, a dance floor and he was moving faster than his normal snails pace and he was flailing his arms.  Um...right so it had to be dancing, right?

 

She also has a look of disbelief upon her face as she shakes her head, "that man does not know how to dance, that's what he's doing.  How the hell can a black man not know how to dance?" 

 

That has been a question I've asked him through the years of our acquaintance.  He assures me that I'm simply jealous of his skills, nothing more, and that I wished I was half as good as he.  I equally reassured him that I was thankful to the Almighty that in fact I was in fact not 'half as good as he' and not in a good way either.

 

But no doubt watching him dance had me laughing through most of the rest of the evening and better yet, his brother M and him dancing together was downright side-splitting hilarious.  Every few minutes they would get these serious expressions on their faces, step out with one leg, stretch out one hand, point, look at each other, bop their heads and do this for a few minutes with grim, almost scowling expressions on their thobras (that means face in Hindi).  I don't think I have ever laughed so much, danced so little at any wedding.  I danced less only because I couldn't stop laughing.  Vicious circle really. 

 

Also, M's fav thing seemed to be twerking.  Yes, I said twerking.  Don't know what it is?  Go, go to www.youtube.com and behold.  You'll either liable to gape, blush or laugh, possibly all three.  Any which way here was this 20something man twerking and honestly one can't help but stare in astonishment. And Fo also joined in as did his sister (she actually looked good doing it unlike the brothers who just looked...disturbing).  Best. Dancing. Ever.

 

I was also at one point attacked.  Sweet little me, standing there right off the floor minding my own business, and I was fully attacked.  You're wondering by whom?  Well Fo and M.  How?  They both decided they wanted to perform a scene from that American classic movie "Night at the Roxbury".  I stood there ramrod straight, arms crossed, allowing them to do what they wanted while rolling my eyes at the other laughing dancers.  The end product, other than blog-worthy material, was that one far too enthusiastic bump lead to a bottle of Fo's beer that was perched on the table behind me, tipped over and onto my lovely dress.  Besides brushing it off, I threatened to kick both their butts, then laughed.  What else could I do?  What would you have done?  That's just how chilled the atmosphere was.  Almost all of the guests were up and dancing, drinking, laughing so getting pissed over spilt beer seemed trivial.  H eventually got her dance as we all made a circle about them smiling and cheering them on.

 

Nearing onto 11:30pm, it was time to go, the shuttle awaited.  Rounds of hugs were exchanged, air kisses flew around the intimate perimeter and we were off in an exhausted heap.   I sat again next to Fo's mother as we agreed that everything was perfect, promising to stay in touch once we were back home.  By the time I got back to my hotel, my feet only slightly hurt, the memories of the evening secured in my little bloggers mind and undressing as well as getting into bed seemed well deserved. 

 

Here are my final thoughts:  To be honest, all that planning, packing, traveling, everything that went into going to Seattle for just that specific day was worth it completely.  To see two dear friends, one whom I considered a bestie, become husband and wife was priceless.  I couldn't have been more honored nor flattered to be invited to witness the blessed event knowing without a doubt that these two are truly meant for one another.  If you were ever to see them together, to know them, you would fully agree.  They complement each other in a bizarre way, they are weirdly in sync and completely in love but so comfortable in that love that they did/do not find the need to continuously cling to each other.  She is non-demanding, he is chilled.  She accepts all his insane childishness; he appreciates and recognizes this ability in her.  They are so opposite yet alike in so many ways.   They are the perfect (have I used this word before?) foil for one another.

 

I know Fo will read all this (particularly since I told him that this blog will feature him prominently) and I sincerely hope I did justice to his and his beautiful wife’s special day in my descriptions.  If I missed or got something wrong, pardon me for it, it has been several weeks since the event and I'm old so my memory isn't want it used to be (that's my story and I'm sticking to it).

 

For my readers who do not know this couple you are probably wondering why I took one whole long blog to write all this out about strangers (to you) and then subjected you to the reading of it.  Well...this is how I look at it...life is about big events, interspersed between a lot of boring humdrumness (yes, this is now a word in my dictionary).  By not writing about just these precise 'big events' then what else is there to speak of?  Cleaning the house?  Cooking?  Taking out the garbage?  Going to work?  The weather?  Another story about another bum who accosted me on the streets of D.C.?  Well yea, sure I write about all these things as well (something you are witness to in all my previous blogs) but this is the type of blog I most adore typing out not for you (my reader) but (selfishly enough) for myself.  Because I figure that in several years, when this is nothing but a distant memory, slightly blurred and faded around the edges of my cranium, I'll be able to click back on this very link and re-read it and in a way re-live it.  I hope that Fo and H will also know that this blog dedicated to them is also a way for them, through someone else’s eyes, to re-live their day. 

 

Additionally, I have other dear close friends who have become hitched most recently.  Do not for an instant think that I have forgotten to write their days down and that Fo is more special than the others.  He is indeed special ('thpethal') but so are these other friends and I have every intention of writing at length regarding their weddings (from my prospective).   Watch out for those entries once I'm done narrating this Seattle adventure.

 

If you haven't been able to figure it out yet, my friends are special and dear to me.  I love them endlessly and deeply.  This is how they know what they mean to me, the only real gift I can give them, my blog.  Sue me if you don't like it and think that I should reserve my blog for other things, I've never been shy about writing what I think, no matter how negative or rude it may sound and I never demure from writing about those things/peopel that I care about.  That's just how I am. 

Still, I just hope you all have enjoyed reading this, even if a slight bit.  And that you also wish this couple happiness, they deserve it.

Anyhow, the next day, Vancouver bound!