A Very Short Engagement
In the eyes of the Great Spaghetti Monster, Our Parents, the State of Massachusetts, and, with any luck, the Immigration and Naturalization Service, Springy and I are now legally married!
It could not have been a lovelier day if we’d had more than a week to plan it. In fact, I think the fact that we didn’t plan and just let events tumble into place made it an even more perfect day.
I stayed over with the Madre and the Dondre* at their hotel on Thursday night, which was nice even though they kept me awake with snoring from 2 am to 3 am. Then in the morning, we had a little breakfast and went up to Central Square. The Dondre acted in loco parentis for Springy and went up to our flat, while the Madre and I went to the Hair Collage, where TJ the stylist did amazing things with round brushes that made my hair cascade in shiny curls around my shoulders. Not even the rain could muss it. Boomy and my uni flatmate Yathead (aka Cranfield) collaborated in getting me a wonderful bouquet of purple and white flowers with a big white ribbon.
The girls gathered at the hair salon – Boomy and Brookburg, Tapioca and the Balloon Lady – and accompanied us to the City Hall, which is literally one door down across the street from the salon. Brand was acting as bouncer/usher and many digital cameras were flashing as I met Springy at the foot of the marble steps. We all went upstairs to the City Council Chambers, a beautiful Victorian style room with large wooden furniture and rosy fabric wallpaper and various city eminences gazing down benevolently.
The officiate was a kindly middle-aged woman with a mild but awesome Boston accent. She directed Springy and I to stand in front of the large podium in the front of the room. She read out the civil service and although I don’t remember the exact words, it was very touching without being either cheesy or too formal. Something about celebrating our commitment before our community, making an equal partnership, growing in love and friendship, and supporting and understanding one another. My ‘dres had brought rings for us to exchange, because we are holding off on getting real wedding bands until next summer. Mine belonged to my great-great grandmother.
I giggled nervously a little before the vows and got a tear in the corner of my eye when Springy looked down and said his, looking very sweet and intense. Then my cell phone rang to remind me of my wedding appointment and no one could figure out how to turn it off. That was pretty funny. All in all, it was exactly what I would have wanted for a civil ceremony if I had known what exactly I wanted!
We convened back at the flat afterwards (a mere two blocks in the rain) where Springy had prepared delicious snacks and a champagne toast. There were many flowers from family and friends. I was a little stupefied at that point, and a little giddy. We spoke to the folks in the UK and gushed rather – it was all so sweet and joyful.
That afternoon, Boomy and Brookburg and the Madre and I went to a place in Belmont (only getting somewhat lost) to look at wedding gowns. I was prepared not to find anything and to hate how I looked but in fact we found a dozen pretty dresses and it was good fun. The saleslady zipped and clipped me into the various dresses and I got up on a dais, under three stage lights, in front of a huge mirror. I also got the gauge the look of the dresses from the expressions on the faces of my fashion posse as I came out of the dressing room. We winnowed it down to four, then three, then two, and ended up with the very first dress I had tried on. The Madre had picked it out as soon as we walked into the store, and it’s not a dress I would ever have picked for myself but it is very, very beautiful: deep ivory silk, strapless (which I said I’d never do, but it’s very high so I don’t get that armpit squish), with ruching and a ruffle down the side. Very 30’s red carpet glam. And it was a sample sale dress! Still, it was a very expensive treat from my mother.
That night twelve of us went to The Elephant Walk, a French-Cambodian restaurant in Porter Square, for a fabulous dinner hosted by the Dondre. BL made adorable bride and groom balloon sculptures – the bride with long brown hair and cleavage, the groom tall and holding a “green card”. Aha-ha-ha. Excellent food, some sweet/funny toasts (Joolya ever the iconoclast), and a good time had by all.
I am just as happy to have done things this way as having had a year to worry and plan the Perfect Wedding. I mean, we’re still going to have proper wedding parties, but this way 1) we are married in MA which has same-sex marriage, which is cool, and 2) I didn’t have time to stress out about the concept of Getting Married in general.
I think the lesson of this whole experience is that sometimes the best things that happen are the least expected. If you chill and allow the Universe to unfold as it will, it gives you gifts you didn't even think to ask for.
*Dondre (don-dray) n. : consort of Madre, father figure to Joolya, man in the Kangol cap with the curled moustache.
It could not have been a lovelier day if we’d had more than a week to plan it. In fact, I think the fact that we didn’t plan and just let events tumble into place made it an even more perfect day.
I stayed over with the Madre and the Dondre* at their hotel on Thursday night, which was nice even though they kept me awake with snoring from 2 am to 3 am. Then in the morning, we had a little breakfast and went up to Central Square. The Dondre acted in loco parentis for Springy and went up to our flat, while the Madre and I went to the Hair Collage, where TJ the stylist did amazing things with round brushes that made my hair cascade in shiny curls around my shoulders. Not even the rain could muss it. Boomy and my uni flatmate Yathead (aka Cranfield) collaborated in getting me a wonderful bouquet of purple and white flowers with a big white ribbon.
The girls gathered at the hair salon – Boomy and Brookburg, Tapioca and the Balloon Lady – and accompanied us to the City Hall, which is literally one door down across the street from the salon. Brand was acting as bouncer/usher and many digital cameras were flashing as I met Springy at the foot of the marble steps. We all went upstairs to the City Council Chambers, a beautiful Victorian style room with large wooden furniture and rosy fabric wallpaper and various city eminences gazing down benevolently.
The officiate was a kindly middle-aged woman with a mild but awesome Boston accent. She directed Springy and I to stand in front of the large podium in the front of the room. She read out the civil service and although I don’t remember the exact words, it was very touching without being either cheesy or too formal. Something about celebrating our commitment before our community, making an equal partnership, growing in love and friendship, and supporting and understanding one another. My ‘dres had brought rings for us to exchange, because we are holding off on getting real wedding bands until next summer. Mine belonged to my great-great grandmother.
I giggled nervously a little before the vows and got a tear in the corner of my eye when Springy looked down and said his, looking very sweet and intense. Then my cell phone rang to remind me of my wedding appointment and no one could figure out how to turn it off. That was pretty funny. All in all, it was exactly what I would have wanted for a civil ceremony if I had known what exactly I wanted!
We convened back at the flat afterwards (a mere two blocks in the rain) where Springy had prepared delicious snacks and a champagne toast. There were many flowers from family and friends. I was a little stupefied at that point, and a little giddy. We spoke to the folks in the UK and gushed rather – it was all so sweet and joyful.
That afternoon, Boomy and Brookburg and the Madre and I went to a place in Belmont (only getting somewhat lost) to look at wedding gowns. I was prepared not to find anything and to hate how I looked but in fact we found a dozen pretty dresses and it was good fun. The saleslady zipped and clipped me into the various dresses and I got up on a dais, under three stage lights, in front of a huge mirror. I also got the gauge the look of the dresses from the expressions on the faces of my fashion posse as I came out of the dressing room. We winnowed it down to four, then three, then two, and ended up with the very first dress I had tried on. The Madre had picked it out as soon as we walked into the store, and it’s not a dress I would ever have picked for myself but it is very, very beautiful: deep ivory silk, strapless (which I said I’d never do, but it’s very high so I don’t get that armpit squish), with ruching and a ruffle down the side. Very 30’s red carpet glam. And it was a sample sale dress! Still, it was a very expensive treat from my mother.
That night twelve of us went to The Elephant Walk, a French-Cambodian restaurant in Porter Square, for a fabulous dinner hosted by the Dondre. BL made adorable bride and groom balloon sculptures – the bride with long brown hair and cleavage, the groom tall and holding a “green card”. Aha-ha-ha. Excellent food, some sweet/funny toasts (Joolya ever the iconoclast), and a good time had by all.
I am just as happy to have done things this way as having had a year to worry and plan the Perfect Wedding. I mean, we’re still going to have proper wedding parties, but this way 1) we are married in MA which has same-sex marriage, which is cool, and 2) I didn’t have time to stress out about the concept of Getting Married in general.
I think the lesson of this whole experience is that sometimes the best things that happen are the least expected. If you chill and allow the Universe to unfold as it will, it gives you gifts you didn't even think to ask for.
*Dondre (don-dray) n. : consort of Madre, father figure to Joolya, man in the Kangol cap with the curled moustache.
posted by Joolya at
2:49 PM
2 Comments:
CONGRATULATIONS.
Yeah, you did it the right way. Simple, happy, unstressed is a far better way to start off a marriage than a too-many-thousand-dollar-everything-must-be-right-or-the-bride-will-explode stress fest. So now, many happy years to the two of you.
Congrats. Sounds a lot like my wedding last year (Boston City Hall).
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