So, first dance over, time to get toasted! Keep in mind that our best people had months to write their speeches, so naturally, Misty got some great shots of Cliff scribbling down his the morning of the wedding.
Eileen went first lest Cliff’s toast outshine hers. She told everyone how I had insisted that morning that Angela would be hungry, but they had all doubted me. Of course, I was right. As with the rabbi’s talk, she noted how perfect we are for each other and how well we fit together. I liked her quotation: you don’t marry the one you can live with, you marry the one you can’t live without. Very awww-inspiring.
I am well aware that this is a family board, and I do not want to run afoul of the moderators. I will thus try to be as oblique as possible when discussing the contents of the next toast.
Then Cliff took the microphone. At the rehearsal dinner, Cliff had asked me if most people knew that he will eventually be our donor. I’d said yes, because most of my family members (and all of our friends) know. I never thought much more about it.
But Cliff apparently took my response as permission to do what he did next. He began his speech pleasantly enough, talking about how he first met Angela when she was a freshman at Penn, and everyone loved her for her generosity, her loyalty, and her spunk. Then she met this really smart and sexy girl in her Legal Studies class (moi), and she was smitten. And how we started dating, and we were both really good friends with him. And then he said, “But I soon realized they didn’t just want to be friends with me. They were more interested in my little men.” And he pulled out a turkeybaster. With little Mickey “swimmers” drawn on it. Angela held the “present” aloft, while I hid my head in my hands.
From the vantage point of today, nearly four weeks after the wedding, I laugh hysterically when I think about the toast. At that moment, all I could think about were the people who might be offended: Angela’s parents, my grandparents, the rabbi. I love Cliff, and I can’t ever stay mad at him (same with Angela; heaven help me when we have a kid). After trying so hard to ensure that my wedding would be classy, however, I just couldn’t believe that was the topic of discussion. I mean, it makes sense, given my mother’s addition to the ceremony, and the fact that so much of wedding symbolism is fertility-related. We were the first of our friends to settle down, the first to get married, and hopefully, we’ll be the first to have babies, and I think a lot of them are excited about the prospect of being surrogate aunts and uncles. But…. wow. Wow. My best man pulled out a turkeybaster with not-so-hidden Mickeys during his wedding toast!
My not-so-amused face:
The laughter took a good while to subside, after which point, anyone who had not started drinking began with fervor. Let me say it again, we made good use of that open bar! Angela’s father alone had nine beers.
My cousin Rachel said the prayer over bread, and we dug into the fabulous buffet. The Mickey-roni-n-cheese was a huge hit; apparently, it had to be refilled three times in the first twenty minutes. My crepe was the yummiest thing I’ve ever eaten, and the heart-shaped risotto cakes were to die for. The milk chocolate fondue was divine.
Angela and I weren’t sure about the sweetheart table; we had initially opted to sit with our bridal party and parents, but when our guest list fell, we figured it would be silly to have half of the guests at the head table. I’m really glad, though, that we were set apart: it gave us time and space to eat! Not that we ate as much as we wanted (we both lament not going back for seconds), but we did get to taste most things.
Eating our brunch was probably the calmest part of the reception; Angela and I got to chat, look at the turkeybaster in full detail, and eat. It was nice to have those 20 or so minutes just the two of us. From there on out, though, every single second was filled up. We were originally planning to do the Father/Daughter dance right after the meal ended, but Angela’s father was in the bathroom. The DJ played another song while we waited, and then we danced our combined Fathers/Daughters dance to “Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World.” Angela and her dad decided to milk the photo op, and they spent most of the song posing cheesily for the camera. My dad and I talked about how wonderful everything was, and we both teared up a little. (I’ve lost count of my crying jags).
Then, the hora! Angela says that she converted to Judaism just for the hora, and I can believe it. We were placed on chairs—one of my uncles was trapped under my dress, so my chair tilted too much at first—and bounced around in the air. I’m glad we didn’t wait until our holders were drunk, because then I would have been even more worried.
Everyone had a blast dancing, everyone who wasn’t playing ping pong, that is. I think we danced a little more, and then it was cake-cutting time.
Angela and I had practiced our cake eating routing beforehand, and we’d agree on no smashing (well, she wanted no smashing; I think the whole licking-cake-of-each-other’s-faces-thing is hilarious). We got our cake cutting lesson, fed each other, and then I proceeded to dab frosting on her nose and lick it off. Yummy.
Who is this man, and why is he cutting my cake?
Can we eat it now?
Sunny: “But it matches your outfit.” Angela: “You’ll pay for this later.”
After we were done with our chocoholic debauchery, Jennifer brought out the birthday cake for my brother and father, and we all sang to them.
I think at this point the DJ asked if I minded if he played some of those cheesy dances we’d vetoed (he was apparently receiving lots of requests for Cha Cha Slide), so Angela and I decided it was time for ping pong. I can’t think of a better activity to do in formalwear. I dove for the ball, got on my belly to find it under a table, and otherwise risked thousands of dollars worth of fabric to get the perfect shot. Angela and I played against each other for a while, and then teamed up against two of our friends. It was so much fun. (Sadly, you’ll have to wait until I get the CD from Misty to post pics of us playing ping pong).
A line started forming for the table, however, and it was cake eating time. You think that one little bite was enough? Yeah, right! Such good cake. I’m a little hazy on the timing after this point (hell, I’m hazy on the timing after the toasts), but I remember:
My father toasting us, with some more sweet words about how perfect we are for each other.
Angela’s father toasting us, starting out with, “I need to have a talk with Cliff later on.” Everyone laughed. He talked about how well we fit together (like salt and pepper, Lucy and Desi, the Lone Ranger and Tonto). At one point, he teared up, and Angela thought he was having a heart attack. I’m glad she didn’t say anything then, because that would have made for an awkward moment or two.
I toasted Angela and thanked everyone for coming, in rhyme, of course.
Sample lines:
For our bridesmaids:
To April, Eileen, and last but not least Jess,
Aren’t you so glad we picked a re-wearable dress?
For Angela:
I love the way you wake up every morning ready to eat,
And how when we play board games we both like to cheat.
I love playing with you, kayaking or having a whipped cream fight,
And how we pretend that I’m always right.
I love you forever and always, for the rest of my life,
So thank you, Angela, for becoming my wife.
There’s a lot more of it, all just as sappy. I teared up again at the end, but I held my composure for the most part.
Angela and I went to the bathroom, and met another bride whose reception was in the other ballroom. While we were gone, we apparently missed my grandmother and mother boogeying with our friends to “We are Family”. Misty’s pics of the dance are definitely a little, shall we say, risqué.
Misty immediately noticed when my makeup began to run, and helped my mom to fix it/remove the rest of the eye makeup. She has such a great eye!
The DJ called for all the (gender neutral) single people to come onto the dance floor, and I tossed one of our bouquets. My brother caught it easily, which was great, because I was aiming right for him. Angela took off my garter with her teeth (I love those pics!), but when she flicked it, it fell on the floor, and our 4 year old flower girl picked it up. So no reverse garter custom for us. The DJ asked us if we wanted to redo the toss, but Emma was excited, and at that point, it would have been weird.
We did the Twist, the Chicken Dance, the YMCA, the Shout. The dance floor was never empty, and no one could say that they didn’t have a ball.
At one point, Cliff handed me a card from all of our friends and said it wasn’t parent-appropriate. I assumed he meant the words (silly me). There were pictures… dirty pictures... inside. Definitely not parent-appropriate or DisBoard appropriate. But definitely hilarious.
Throughout the whole reception, I had only two (small) glasses of Rosa Regale, and lots of water. (Given the humidity outside and my giant dress, I was very thirsty). Angela had Rosa plus one mimosa. We were by far the most sober (of age) people there. Christopher, Angela’s nephew, was pretty tipsy too, although that was because he consumed 9 lollipops, and my Uncle Jim stuffed a few more into his pocket. (He apparently continues to refer to the wedding as “Candy Day.”)
I didn’t really do the bridal hostess thing and go around to each table, but I did have a chance to ask the most staid table what they thought of Cliff’s toast (we didn’t do assigned seating, but everyone sat where I would have put them anyway). They all seemed to think it was pretty funny. So much for my fears. I’m just glad that the people who couldn’t have handled it didn’t end up coming to the wedding.
At 2:30 PM, I had requested a special song to mark what I assumed would be the most drunken, crazy half hour of our reception. Cher’s “If I Could Turn Back Time.” Let me explain: my brother and I have choreographed a routine to the song. We have performed it countless times in the past, I don’t know, five years. It is our song. And no wedding would be complete without it. It was glorious.
You thought I was kidding about how well I dance? And notice the "microphone" in my brother's hand...
So of course, that could only be followed by “I Had the Time of My Life,” from Dirty Dancing, with Cliff and I playing the part of Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey. If you’re looking at Misty’s reception pics, and you see what looks like inappropriate physical contact between the two of us, with Angela looking on jealously, and everyone else looking on incredulously, that would be why. He’s a pretty good dancer, what can I say?
We hadn’t really wanted a lot of slow, romantic music, but it was nice to unwind a little at the end with a few slower dances. I danced with Angela again (to our song, “Angel”), and with my person of honor, Jess, and my brother. And then the last song came on, Donna Summer’s “Last Dance” (I grew up in a very disco-filled household, ok?). And we danced and danced for however ridiculously long that song is.
Coming attractions: Can I please take off this dress NOW? Followed shortly thereafter by: Uh oh. Where’s the Rabbi?