Better late than never. (Or: THE WEDDING.)

So, as some of you may remember, I got married last month.
And now I can prove it!

Finally having the wedding photos in hand is really exciting to me. This is partly because -- as I'm sure many of you know, and still others will one day find out -- it is very difficult to remember very much about one's own wedding after the fact.

But really, it's much more because I have been dying to put them on my blog.

Because there are so many pictures, I'm going to take a cue from the lovely Elle Michelle and do a wedding post in three parts. (Thus providing me three days' worth of material, which is always nice.) And so, today, I am very pleased to present:

Part I: In which we make flower arrangements, break champagne flutes, and discover that someone thinks our boobs are too small.

The ceremony and reception both took place in my parents' backyard, a location we settled on because a) I love the place where I grew up, and b) there was no venue fee. The fact that they have the world's most beautiful garden and spectacular view had nothing to do with it.

(It poured on our wedding day. This is the morning after. I am trying not to be bitter.)

Let me begin by saying that the ceremony was supposed to start at 6pm.
It, um, didn't.

At 5:30, with rain pouring down and my dad and brother still attempting to set up a place for the ceremony under the tent, all the girls run upstairs in a panic to do their hair and start putting on makeup.

Our photographer captured the getting-ready.




I am pretty sure that this bottle of champagne came out as soon as the last sash was tied.



Me, gettin' BRIDE-FACED.

At 5:45, my mother still has not come upstairs.

Me: (shouting from upstairs hallway) Mooooooom!
Mom: (shouting from downstairs) What?
Me: Aren't you supposed to be, like, helping me look pretty?
Mom: Just hang on!

-- 5 minutes go by. --

Me: MOOOOOOM!
Mom: Hang on, hang on!
Me: Mom, c'mon, I'm supposed to be walking down the aisle in 15 minutes! What are you doing?
Mom: Uh... I'm sewing my dress!
(entire bridal party exchanges horrified looks)
Maggie: She's sewing an entire dress now? She's never going to finish it in time!
Mom: No, you idiots, I'm just fixing a hole!

Shortly thereafter, mom arrives in her non-holey dress to fix my hair.


We are now running insanely late. While my mother frantically sticks hairpins into my 'do, Brad calls to find out what the hell is taking so long.

I tell her to say that I ran away.


A second later, I accidentally knock the champagne glass into the sink. It breaks. I try not to think of it as a bad omen.



The finished product. My mom is a fucking genius.


Back in the bedroom, I go to put my dress on and discover that the seamstress -- without my knowledge or consent -- has sewn falsies into the bodice.



I freak out declare with extreme calm and composure that I will NOT get married with fake tits in my dress.

Fortunately, my mom shows up with some sort of sewing tool and rips them out to great celebration. And then, it's time for bride portraits!


When I was three years old, I threw up on this sofa. Now I am sitting on it in my wedding dress.



The back!



Pretty bridal party. (Those would be the $40 bridesmaid dresses, btw.)



Bouquet in one hand...


...umbrella in the other.

And finally, a mere hour behind schedule, we were ready to make our way to the tent. After waiting on the porch for an interminable amount of time (Me, later: Hey Brad, what the hell were you guys doing while we were waiting up there? -- Brad: Peeing.), someone came up with word that the groomsmen had assembled. And so, giggling and trying to ignore the squelching sounds coming from our shoes, we all tottered down the lawn to get married...