Does anyone remember this? It was one of the classier moments of our wedding. I recall that the professional photographer was up too close, trying to capture the romance of the cake-cutting. And I thought to myself, "Why do we need a picture of this? This is not particularly exciting." Then it occurred to me that my mother smushed cake on my dad's face at their reception, so hmmm.....I smeared a little on Michael, just to keep the tradition alive.What's interesting about this photo is that it came two seconds too late. If it had been couple of beats earlier, you would have been able to see the RAGE in Michael's eyes. And if it had been just one second earlier, you would have seen him crush a huge piece of cake onto my face, and then more of it down into the front of my expensive silk dress.
So here's the thing about wedding dresses from the 1990s. They weren't those light sheath things that women are wearing these days. Dresses in the 1990s were heavy. Plus, the ladies at bridal shops impressed upon vulnerable brides the need for "appropriate foundational garments," so in the end it was like wearing two whole outfits on the big day.
When Michael did his cake trick, he managed to wedge the cake underneath the fancy foundational garment, making it impossible for me to get it out without stripping off the whole ensemble in the hotel bathroom. So I didn't. The rest of the evening, I had to feel the squish, squish of buttercream every time I moved. The first dance? Squish! Throwing the bouquet? Squish! The Big Exit down the stairs to the getaway car? Squish!
Ah, love. I don't think our wedding was the first time that Michael realized that I can be really annoying, and I've certainly taken annoying to new levels since then. Who controls the clicker in our house? Me! That has meant that Michael has watched a lot of Celebrity Fit Club this summer (Come on, Marcia Brady was on it! That's hilarious!). Who won't go see any movies with violence, gore, or death-by-serious-illness storylines? Me! That's a lot of WhenHarryMetSally-esque films for the poor man. Who gets crazy cravings around 11 pm? Me! Our household conversation goes like this:
Me: I want french fries.
Michael: Now?
Me: I can't stop thinking about them.
Michael: (sigh) Do you want me to go get you some?
Me: No. It would be really bad of me to eat french fries this late.
Me: But I'm really hungry.
Michael: I'll go get you some.
Me: No! I'm not asking you to do anything. I'm just sharing my feelings with you.
Me: But I'm afraid I won't be able to sleep.
Michael: I'm going to get some.
Me: Can you find an organic kind?
But really, we've had so many good times, too. There was that week on the Redneck Riviera, when no one else was there. It was like we owned our own little piece of Alabama -- eating out at Bubba's and then drinking gin and tonics on our white sandy beach! Or how about that backroads trip across Spain, where we went looking for ruins (and skulls! So many skulls! We found one building that was made out of 1,245 of them). And then there was the day that we found out about Blue and Green, when we shared that combination of exhilaration and panic (Michael got pulled over leaving the doctor's office, and he showed the ultrasound pictures to the cop! No ticket that day.).
So Michael, we've known each other a long time. I remember when you wanted to be like the guy in the Strawberry Statement, and I remember when you grew your hair long so you could wear a ponytail. Today, even though you like to play fantasy baseball just a little too much, I still think you're the coolest cat around. Happy eleventh anniversary (tomorrow)!
5 comments:
Fantasy Baseball!
Oh you poor bastard. It's worse than I thought.
Happy eleventh. I remember having buttercream in my shorts, but that came about through entirely different means.
That wedding also resulted in one truly horrendous photo of a crazed Joey, cadaverous Stephan, and a ridiculously tubby yours truly. In reality, none of us ever looked that bad, I think, but that photographer captured some sort of Dorian Gray quality in each of us. I keep it framed and buried in the storage closet.
Now that's an anniversary present! And such a public one -- I'm blushing.
No, Jen, you're not annoying. Quirky? Yes. Spontaneous? Absolutely. But never annoying. You have a way of keeping things interesting and fun and meaningful all at the same time. My only regret is that we never made the roadtrip from Chicago to Dollywood. Maybe someday we'll still get there even if it's a longer drive now.
As for the buttercream, a better man would have just smiled, given the photographer her moment, and let it pass. How many times have we told Blue and Green, "You don't hit your brother back when he hits you!"? But in that moment, in that place, all I could think about was retribution. Maybe it's part of a larger give-and-take pattern that still persists. It's just good that at the time I didn't know the extent of the squish. I probably would have found a way to make it worse.
Food fight aside, 8/3/96 was a good day. A really good day.
P.S. Yes, I have succumbed to Fantasy Baseball. Thanks for outing me on that one. We all have our inner geek - like your Celebrity Fit Club and Shaq fitness shows. But what am I supposed to do when there's a little family competition going on? I mean, it's not like I'm competitive ... really.
> That wedding also resulted in one truly
> horrendous photo of a crazed Joey, cadaverous
> Stephan, and a ridiculously tubby yours truly.
Now I combine all three attributes. I RULE!
I have very vivid memories of that whole wedding trip, surprisingly few of them due to irresponsible behavior. I have a fond hope that Jennifer gets a tune-up every so often on her manicure, and that one day soon I'll have an excuse to tag along again.
I remember the flash in Michael's eye you're calling rage, but I ascribe it to something different and more complex. It was an exception to the cool poise otherwise on display. Michael was my model for coolité (KEWL-it-TAY) on one's wedding day. I remember having a very pleasant picnic lunch with a bunch of folks less peripherally associated with North Dead Alumnus Not Available Residential Hall, including an utterly unperturbed groom. We sat on disused rails in a linear park running through the center of Stoneville, and I remember looking at Michael waiting for some sign of rufflement. We visited that park 4 or 5 years ago, and all was then as it was before, although the idea of sitting on rusty metal 6 inches off the ground had definitely started losing its appeal.
And it must be said, what a fetching couple! No wonder Blue and Green are so handsome. (And by the way, are you both Blue/Yellow heterozygous, or is Yellow dominant?) Anyway, a clink and a cheers from the flat bit out this way.
C'mon Michael. She's a little annoying.
I'm kidding! Just because she doesn't "get" Seinfeld, The Far Side, or why "The Ring" is a great movie, she'll always be like a sister to me.
I really, really wish I'd been there to see the cake incident. Happy Anniversary!
Aww, shucks. Thanks to you all. But trust me, it WAS rage.
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