I just love a wedding. There is something so romantic and sweet and lovely about an open bar, a kick ass band and blown out hair. Oh, and of course, two souls uniting for a lifelong bond. This weekend, my friends Adam and Anna are doing the ring thing. I mean, really they had to. Because how damn cute are the names “Adam and Anna” together? They could despise each other and they would still have to get married, just so we could all forever utter their names over and over.
I met Adam in an outdoor hot tub in Crested Butte, Colorado in 1997. There were about 10 other drunk people jammed in that hot tub too. So it was a little less romantic than you might think. This red headed doctor was headed to New York City and that’s where we became friends – super groovy, cool friends. As for Anna, she is this amazing, crazy ball of fiery energy and the two of them seem, well, destined.
My own wedding now seems like a galaxy far, far away. 3 year-old Dylan loves to watch our wedding video. When I see myself come down the aisle in that strapless, satin A-line gown by Wearkstatt, with just the right amount of crystal beading on the bodice and French piping at the waist, I think, “Damn, I wish I could wear that dress again.” And how about the understated, but brilliant, jeweled tiara. I wouldn’t mind throwing on that bad boy too.
I was a bit melancholy for the first few days of my honeymoon. Could it really all be over? Of course, my handsome, amazing, although a bit perplexed, new husband kept reminding me that it was all just beginning. I knew that guy was sharp. Turned out, he was right. And don’t stress Anna, I’m not wearing my wedding dress to your nuptials. That breathless beauty is vacuum packed into an enormous bridal box in my mother’s attic. Oh, how the mighty gown has fallen.
For Adam and Anna (gosh, I love saying that), this weekend is just the start. And we would still come celebrate your marriage, even without the free booze and music. Really, we would. Congratulations.