Weddingbee Blog

It’s been nearly two months since my last recap, which ended with me unveiling that I had realized I made a terrible mistake just before I was about to walk down the aisle. How’s that for suspense? (That’s how I roll.)

It was around 5:15 PM when the museum coordinators decided most of our guests had probably arrived. I stood in the back of the Chinese Rotunda, behind a line of beautiful bridesmaids, arm in arm with my dad, who was definitely having a Steve Martin moment (Father of the Bride fans, what what!). The moment I had been waiting for was literally just around the corner. I was shaking and trying to tell my cheeks not to turn red like they always do when I am nervous.

“I’m going to poop or puke or both,” I said, turning to my dad. He shook his head and smirked at me. “Relaaaax,” he told me. I could tell he was just as nervous to be giving his little girl away as I was to be walking into a room full of people who meant the world to me.

I watched from around the corner. I couldn’t see much, apart from the museum coordinators giving the guitarist the signal to begin playing.

Our talented guitarist, Christopher Dunn, was playing a gorgeous rendition of “In my Life” by The Beatles as our parents prepared to make their grand entrance.

I stared up at the Rotunda’s ginormous ceiling and tried to breathe deep, Zen-like breaths. A few of my bridesmaids gave me “whoooo heeee” Lamaze-esque gestures from a few feet away, while I couldn’t help but feel like I was forgetting something.

Mr. Candy Corn’s brother and best man led the way by escorting their glowing mom down the aisle.

Next up was Mr. Candy Corn’s youngest brother with his mother (and Mr. Candy Corn’s stepmother).

The final duo to have made their appearance was my brother and Mama Candy Corn.

The groomsmen quickly shuffled in and waited for the bridesmaids to make their way down the aisle.

And waited.

And waited.

“Shit!” I whispered to my dad, officially shaking now. I didn’t think he heard me the first time, since there wasn’t a response on his end. “Dad!! Dad! Shit! I forgot Mr. Candy Corn’s wedding band!”

Wait a second, rewind.

Earlier that day, it was a running joke that Mr. Candy Corn’s brother was bound to lose my wedding band, so my older, somewhat more responsible brother, decided to hold onto it until the last minute so there wouldn’t be any ring drama on the boys’ end. I made several sarcastic, “So, did you lose the ring yet?” remarks during the day to make the poor kid nervous. Turns out, karma’s a biatch. I had been keeping Mr. Candy Corn’s wedding band in my bag of bridal necessities, for safe keeping until the ceremony was about to begin. I didn’t want my maid of honor to feel like she had to wear it on her thumb hours before our ceremony, and I knew I wouldn’t forget it. I’d have to be a total arse monkey to forget it! During a bridal tizzy, the bridesmaids and I decided it would be best to move all of our bags to the room the groomsmen had been staying in, since their door locked and we wanted to keep our valuables safe (you know, from my thieving relatives). I thought I had everything I needed in my clutch. Lip gloss? Check. Birth control pills? Check. Eye drops just in case I have an allergic reaction to an ancient mummy or relative from New Jersey? Check. Okay, that’s all I had in my clutch, so sue me.

Anyway, it was right before my bridesmaids were about to go down the aisle when I realized I didn’t have Mr. Candy Corn’s wedding band and that it was two floors below us, on the opposite side of the very large museum.

Guests began to stir in their seats.

“Dad! I don’t have it! I forgot it in my bag downstairs!” I whispered loudly at him.

“What? How did you forget it? Uh, well here, just use my wedding band,” he answered while shrugging.

“No, no no, you have giant man hands and Mr. Candy Corn has stubby little hands! It has to be his ring! I need to get his ring! What do I do, what do I do!?!?” I said absolutely flustered.

I whispered to my maid of honor that I didn’t have the ring. “You don’t have the ring do you? Right, I didn’t think so! Shit, shit, shit, shit. Please don’t walk down the aisle yet!”

I made great big “OVER HERE!!!” gestures at the wedding coordinators, which they responded to quickly, without making a scene.

“I forgot Mr. Candy Corn’s ring in a bag downstairs! I’m so sorry, can I run down and get it? I’m a huge moron, I’m so sorry!” I explained. I think they were just relieved to know I hadn’t changed my mind about marrying Mr. Candy Corn.

They immediately went into save-the-wedding-day mode and whipped out walkie-talkies while signaling for our guitarist to improvise and stall. We decided to have the bridesmaids stand back and wait to enter while I rushed off in my heels with one of our super fabulous museum coordinators. My heel straps were more complicated than they looked, so taking my shoes off at that point was not an option if I wanted to do this in a timely manner. And the ring was in a weird section of my bag, so explaining it to someone would’ve been more difficult than actually running to fetch it myself.

I know I’ve mentioned before that I am not a master of wearing heels by any means. I selected kitten heels as my wedding shoes for a reason: because I am a Chucks/flats girl at heart and I was afraid of stumbling down the aisle in anything that made me taller than 5’4″. Needless to say, I am a lot better in heels now that I have Forrest Gump-ed across an entire museum in under two minutes.

We ran across the third floor to the elevator and rode it down to the first floor, where Mr. Candy Corn’s ring was sleeping snugly in my bag on the other side of the museum. We had to get the door unlocked by security (which involved walkie-talkie action that made me feel like I was in a Bruce Willis movie from the ’80s). Time was going by fast as we ran past ancient artifacts in a weird wedding whirl that made me wonder if I was just having another one of my vivid wedding nightmares.

Nope. Totally real.

Two whole minutes passed (which feels longer than it is when you have a room full of guests waiting) and our guitarist was improvising his little heart out, while the groomsmen stood restlessly in front of our family and friends. My brother comforted Mr. Candy Corn by saying, “Maybe she ran away,” which Mr. Candy Corn responded to by making a wide, worried smile. There were a few chuckles and coughs made by family members and friends who were also wondering what was taking so long.

The coordinator and I stampeded through the Roman World Gallery into the Chinese Rotunda, where my bridesmaids and father were thankfully still standing. I quickly handed Mr. Candy Corn’s ring off to my very patient maid of honor just before she made her way down the aisle.

She was a total pro and made up for my stupidity with a beaming smile that filled the room.

Next up was my sister-in-law, whose wedding I had been in just a few years before.

The next bridesmaid that made her way down the aisle was one of our best friends who would be getting married just two weeks after us.

And yet another one of our classy, super fabulous bridesmaids!

As one of our last bridesmaids walked gracefully to the front of the room, I was starting to flip out. Thanks to my senility, my previously well-groomed hair was a hot mess and my face was flush with embarrassment. My mouth was completely dry and my legs felt wobbly, like I was learning to walk for the first time.

Our final bridesmaid arrived at the end of the aisle. It was time for the guitarist to play “The Wind” by Cat Stevens and for my father and I to make our appearance.

I turned to my dad and told him he wasn’t allowed to cry and that we should pretend we’re engaging in a really interesting conversation because it would keep us from bawling like the huge pussies that we were.

See? We totally look like we were intellectually discussing last week’s episode of Lost. In actuality, I’m sure the transcript would read something like this:

“Oh Jesus, please don’t let me fall on my face. Oh my gosh, it echos like crazy in here. Do you think they can hear me? Do I have clothes on? Can you see my underwear through this dress?”

Insert my dad grinning and trying not to cry here _______.

As cheesy as this sounds, as soon as I saw Mr. Candy Corn at the end of the aisle, my nerves were pushed aside and I felt complete joy. I can’t explain how surreal it was to see a room full of pretty much everyone we’ve ever loved there, smiling for us.

I couldn’t believe this day was finally here and that this was actually happening. Not to mention the fact that our guests didn’t blow us off after having to wait for me to fetch Mr. Candy Corn’s wedding band last minute (a fear that was irrationally going through my head at the time). Since I was convinced I would trip if I attempted to make a smooth transition onto the aisle runner, I decided to hop on at the very last minute. Yeah, way to be unnecessarily loud.

I later found out that some of our guests actually thought I would be arriving on horseback, because they heard the loud echos of my heels clippity clopping (when I was running after Mr. Candy Corn’s ring) and mistook it for an actual horse. Graceful, I am not.

We reached the end of the aisle and my dad leaned in to give me a hug.

“Wait, you hug him first!” I said, stopping my dad and pointing to Mr. Candy Corn.

“What? No I don’t! We rehearsed this yesterday!” my dad said.

’Oh,’ I thought. Well, things were already off to a great start! After hugging my dad, I nervously jumped on my heels (hello loud noise) and waited off to the side as my dad greeted Mr. Candy Corn with a, “Come here, man. I guess I have to shake your hand now, huh?” gesture. It was one of those things that was perhaps only funny to my dad, since he’s always given Mr. Candy Corn a hard time about “stealing” his little girl away (he adores Mr. Candy Corn, he just plays hard to get since he was a cop and is just a wee bit overprotective). At the first chance I got, I swept in to hold Mr. Candy Corn’s hand and felt a sense of warmth and safety rush over me. I was going to be his wife and nothing else mattered.

For those of you who want the Cliff’s Notes version of our entrance, here’s a video of the awkwardness that ensued:

Entrance of the wedding party on Vimeo.

Next up: the introduction & sand ceremony!

Our Candy Corny Lovefest: The Bachelorette Party (Rated PG-13 For Brief Chocolate Nudity)
Our Candy Corny Lovefest: Our Rehearsal Dinner (The Last Supper As A Single Lady!)
Our Candy Corny Lovefest: Bridal Bouffants and Blushing Bridesmaids and Boobie Grabbing! Oh, My!
Our Candy Corny Lovefest: The Girlies Get Gussied Up
Our Candy Corny Lovefest: The Girls Hitch A Ride In A Limo!
Our Candy Corny Lovefest: The Guys Get Ready At The Museum
Our Candy Corny Lovefest: Fun & Formal Shots Of The Gals

All photos by the fantastic duo: Laura Kicey & Michael Alan Goldberg!!!