Wedding Recap

The Happy Couple

The Happy Couple

The wedding was very good. Heavy on the Bon Jovi, but what do you expect? The Bride & Groom were adorable. It was great to see the two of them independently happy at the wedding, and of course happy together. The Bride told us “Marrying him is like being married to a Hallmark card.”

At the end of the ceremony, instead of having the ushers dismiss people by rows, the Bride and Groom returned to do that, hugging and thanking people for coming. It was a nice touch. Like, combining the ushering out and the receiving line into one time-saving act.

Saturday Night Fever!
Saturday Night Fever!

The reception was good, we were seated at Table 9, which anyone who’s seen The Wedding Singer knows is reserved for unloveable freaks. Speaking of freaks, there was one gentleman there named Sean (or Shawn, he didn’t spell it), who came dressed in a white leisure suit (I think, I don’t know if I have ever seen a leisure suit to identify it, but this seemed close). and pulling off a John Travolta-like look.

After traditional first dances, the party got started (Skeeter is now officially a Crown Royal drinker), with the flask coming in extremely handy.  I’m pretty sure the bartender is wondering how someone drinking sprite can be so inebriated.

The Bride doing the Soldja Boy was one of the highlights of the evening, as well as the group picture with the Bride & Groom and the Tulane Krewe — complete with singing of the Hullabaloo — and she knew the words! What a keeper!

The couple seemed genuinely pleased that we had come, and everyone had a good time, despite there not being any good looking single people there (one girl did have an expensive set of fake boobs though, sorry there’s no pictures of that).

To have and to hold, and to Superman!

To have and to hold, and to Superman!

There were no updates Sunday because my laptop battery didn’t charge, and we had plugged the laptop into the car stereo to play our own MP3s. The car ride home was much like the car ride there, only more singing and less therapy sessions. We didn’t cross that line where we can no longer look each other in the eyes anymore, but we walked right up to the line and tiptoed along it the best we could.

A One, A Two...

A One, A Two...

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