Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Iske!

The wedding was today. It went really, really well. In fact, the whole day did.

We got up early, to a freshly cooked pancake breakfast, so that we could go get Jamie's nails done at 9:30. This was a somewhat unpleasant experience, as we had been out drinking last night and had slept on couches, and I woke up with the first hangover headache I've ever had. Fortunately I had water and aspirin and coffee and breakfast, so the effects faded quickly.

The nail place had been recommended by her hair stylist, and I have to say, she was very right to send us there. Jamie got a full set of real acryllic nails (as opposed to the fiberglass ones), french manicured, dried and ready to go... in twenty minutes. That's ridiculous. And they only cost $25. If I ever have an occasion to have fake nails put on, I'm going there. During this process Jamie and I finalized the timeline for the reception so we could give it to the DJ, something that had been stressing Jamie out a lot. I think she really appreciated that we could work on it while she was getting her nails done-- multitasking for the win!

Next up was the hair appointment, at 11:30. Because I was with Jamie and her mother was not, I was deputized to chronicle the event. So naturally I took pictures of every single step of the fairly elaborate hair she had. Her camera died partway through, so I took more than half of them on my phone. Gotta love smartphones-- I have with me at all times a camera good enough to take fairly good pictures, and I can instantly upload them or email them if I so desire. The hair ended up both beautiful and practically immobilized-- which is exactly what you want, in a hair style that needs to last for many hours, through various forms of stress. We had worried a bit about the fact that the dress had to go on over her head, but it ended up being fine.

Then it was back to the house, where I got myself ready while Jamie visited with family she hadn't seen in years. It wasn't long before we had to head to the church, though. We got there very early, before anyone except the pastor (more on him later), so we had a lot of down time. I painted my nails-- all of the bridesmaids had the same nail polish-- and Jamie tried not to stress over the fact that her makeup artist was apparently lost, as she had called to say they were close and then not arrived. She did finally get there, though, and once she had gotten herself dressed, she did an amazing job on Jamie's makeup. I went off to do my own makeup, and got myself all ready to go. By the time Jamie was done with her makeup we were down to half an hour before the ceremony, so I ordered her to go pee before we had to put her in the dress. In the end the timing was almost perfect-- she got into the dress about five minutes before the ceremony was due to start. It took some time because it had a corset back, which made me very grateful I've had practice on real corsets, as I am good at lacing people in fairly quickly.

The ceremony went very well. Jamie's father was able to walk her down the aisle, without even a cane. The music was lovely, and everyone looked wonderful. Brett and Jamie could have spoken louder during the vows, and Jamie got the giggles at one point, but it was good. Except for the pastor.

I hate to break up a report of such a wonderful day with this, but I can't not rant a little. Pastor Thompson is a misogynistic asshat. Jamie likes him, so I didn't say anything to her, but damn, did the man get on my nerves. It began during yesterday's rehearsal. Jamie's sister, Joey, was late. She is often late, so much so that it's become a joke among her friends and family. We were contemplating finding some way to help her get better about it, and Pastor Thompson offered a suggestion: find her a man. He said it as a sort-of joke, and if it had been the only one, I'd have figured that I just didn't like his sense of humor. But he said several other things that made me twitch as well, and I came away feeling like he was incredibly sexist. Also homophobic, which Jamie says is true, but that is neither here nor there.

Then there was today's service. The entirety of his message can be summed up thus: God has a plan for you, God made women to serve men, and marriage is more about Jesus than each other. Each of those three points make me twitch, but the first and the third I had expected. The second one, not so much. He read from Genesis about how woman was made from Adam's rib to give Adam a helper, he talked about how a wife's duty is to serve her husband, and the entire time I had to stand there and smile because the damned ceremony was being videotaped and my face would be visible. I was extremely grateful for the car ride to the reception, where I could rant to my heart's content with George and Bob and not worry about offending any of the family or friends-- this was the main pastor at Jamie's lifeling church, I have a feeling a lot of them love him. FSM only knows why.

Right after the ceremony, of course, we went to sign the marriage certificate. I got to be Jamie's witness; that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And then there were the pictures. Jamie had told her mom she could only have twenty minutes for pictures, which was good. Even so it was quite an experience. Between six and twelve people taking pictures in addition to Jamie's mom, so every pose had to last long enough for everyone to get a good shot. And of course there were a lot of poses. Jamie by herself (fix the train of the dress, it must be arranged perfectly!), Jamie with Brett, Jamie with her parents (fix the train, she moved!), Jamie with her grandpa, Jamie with her whole family, Jamie and Brett with her parents, Jamie with her bridesmaids (the train!), Jamie with the groomsmen (here, put your feet under the train), Jamie and Brett with the groomsmen, Jamie and Brett with his parents, Jamie and Brett with his family, Brett with the groomsmen (Jamie, you can go-- wait! We need a picture of the train!)...

Finally we managed to get Jamie back to the library we had turned into a dressing room to attempt to bustle her dress. Holy crap, it needs to come with instructions. There are two layers to bustle, one which has satin ribbons to tie and one which has strips of lace, but you have to match up the champagne colored strings with each other and the white ones with each other, and I felt very silly that I had to turn the task over to her mom because I had no idea. We did get it eventually, which meant it was time for the reception.

Upon arriving at the reception Jamie and Brett were showered with bubbles-- rather than rice or whatever else people like to use-- and then there is a buffet, build your own burritos. Then comes the toast. All of Brett's groomsmen said something, largely because they wanted to embarrass each other by making each other speak. I put a bit more thought into my own toast, saying a few things about and to Brett and Jamie, and offering this blessing:

May your mornings bring joy and your evenings bring peace.
May your troubles grow few as your blessings increase.
May the saddest day of your future
Be no worse than the happiest day of your past.
May your hands be forever clasped in friendship
And your hearts joined forever in love.
Your lives are very special,
God has touched you in many ways.
May his blessings rest upon you
And fill all your coming days.

Yes, I know, it talks about God's blessings, and I'm an atheist. But Jamie is not, nor are many of the people who were there, so it seemed appropriate. It went over very well. And that was the last big thing-- we had to do the first dance, and we had to do the bouquet toss, and the cake, but none of those were stressful. Mostly, it was fun.

I caught the bouquet. I'm not really sure why-- I just saw that it was going to be easy to catch, and so I jumped up and snagged it out of the air, without really thinking about it. There is a fantastic picture of it, where it looks like it was staged because I struck such a dancer pose in the air. And I danced, a lot. I got Bob to do the first couple's dance with me, and then I did the Electric Slide and the Chicken Dance and the Time Warp and the YMCA, and then I dragged Bob back onto the dancefloor for Rascal Flatts's "God Bless the Broke Road" because I was a little tipsy and I love that song.

All in all, it was a really good day. Surprisingly enough, this is the first time I have done a wedding and NOT had it strengthen my desire to not have one myself. In fact, I started thinking about how it could be kind of nice. Even with all the stressing and the sexist pastor and everything else, Jamie was just so happy all day. It was beautiful.

Wedding Blues

So, my best friend is getting married tomorrow. She has been super stressed (about things mostly unrelated to the wedding), and yesterday she sent me a text saying that she didn't want to do it anymore, it just wasn't worth all the stress. I've been saying that for years.

This is one of the things where, in spite of my dislike for feminists, I tend to get a little touchy. As young girls, we are taught to wish we were princesses, wish that our handsome prince will come and rescue us from whatever, wish that we will fall in love and get married and live happily ever after. As a result, most girls grow up thinking that finding a boyfriend is extremely important, sometimes more important than anything else. We're willing to break our parents rules and skip our homework and classes to be with the boy we have decided is The One, even if we're not yet old enough to drive. Happily Ever After is the goal; a handsome, wonderful, loving, doting husband and children.

I cannot think of a time in my life that I have wanted children, and the older I get, the more annoying I find the assumption that I am going to change my mind some day. Mothers are the most irritating. They will complain about how awful pregnancy is, with the aches and pains and cravings and nausea and everything else, they will complain about their little brat misbehaving or not listening or getting up too early in the morning or demanding things they can't afford... and when I ask why it is that women always say pregnancy is magical and motherhood is the best thing ever, they immediately forget everything they were complaining about and say that of course, it's a miracle, they love it! I think there's some sort of evolutionary brainwashing going on; the species would not survive if mothers did not feel this way and want more.

But more than that, the pressure to get married annoys me. At least I can understand the evolutionary reasons for women wanting children. Marriage is a social construct that I think perpetuates mostly because no one bothers to question the assumption that it is the ultimate goal. I had a baffling conversation a couple of years ago, with an ex of mine who was, at the time, still pining for me. I told him that I was perfectly happy being single, that I was content to focus on my schooling and my career. Do you know what his reply was? "Well, you'll change your mind when you meet the right guy." (I told this story to a fabulous woman, Connie Willis, and her reply amuses me to this day. She looked at me very seriously and said "No jury in the world would convict you." Priceless.)

What does that mean, anyway? That when I meet the right guy I'll forget all about the plans I have for my life? Or that I will realize that I was miserable until I met him? Either way, what the fuck?

I have met a guy that I might call the "right" one, by the way. I am not writing this because I am single and bitter about it. I got my life in order, and on a whim I went on a dating site (they're good for my ego; I'm attractive enough that I get a lot of messages), and I got a message from an intelligent, interesting young man. We've been dating for almost a year and a half now. I have not realized that I was miserable before, and I have certainly not abandoned my plans. He loves the fact that I am as ambitious as he is; if or schooling puts us on opposite sides of the country, we'll miss each other, but neither of us would ask the other to put our relationship ahead of our careers. I do intend to be with him for probably the rest of my life. I might even marry him-- largely for the tax benefits and such that come from it.

And then I look at my best friend, the girl who's getting married tomorrow. She is happy. She has spent a lot of her life trying to find a man to marry and she does want to have children. And that's fine-- she is happy. As long as people don't assume that I want that, I have no problem with it. But she is stressed to the point of getting herself sick over the wedding. If I have a wedding, I want it to be fun. Period. Maybe we'll rent out the local museum and get married under the baleful eye sockets of the T. Rex skeleton they have in the lobby. Maybe I'll wear a lab coat with my wedding dress. Maybe we'll have a TARDIS replica in the background and invite guests to come in costume. Maybe I'll have bridesmen instead of bridesmaids. Maybe I'll have bridesmaids but put them in lab coats, too. Maybe we'll serve liquid nitrogen ice cream.

But if I ever feel like planning a wedding is going to stress me out, I'm going to call it off, and just sign the papers at the court house. It's not worth it.