Weddingbee Blog

mr. Tartlet and I bolted through the hotel back to the bridal suite, gaily chatting as I yanked my heels off and barefoot finished the race to our room. Unbeknownst to all but a handful of our guests, in addition to the private lessons for our first dance, we also took lessons for a second dance to the tune of Jai Ho! (You Are My Destiny). While receiving instruction, we quickly realized that if we were going to pull this number off, a costume change was in order. I flew out of my wedding attire and into a flouncy dress, Mr. Tartlet discarded his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and not ten minutes later we returned to the Conservatory where our day-of-coordinator signaled to our DJ that we were ready.

{Photo by Aruna B. Photography}

We were energized by the lights, the crowd, and still riding the high of the day’s adventures. For the first time we felt like we were performing instead of practicing.

It was a mad scramble of choreography, and we’re really looking forward to seeing the footage that Epic Motion captured–crazy dance faces and all.

Mr. Tartlet insisted that we have a lift in our routine. Throughout our sessions I had reservations about the move, but that night I practically bounced into his arms as he spun me around, provoking an exuberant reaction from the masses:

Both of us were extremely worried about forgetting the choreography, but as soon as we capered into the room all of our nerves disappeared, and whenever our eyes met we could tell that the other was ecstatic.

As the song–and our dance–concluded on a climactic drum beat, we could do nothing but try and catch our breath in between howls of laughter.

Mary Ann Ross boosted the energy level in the room by transitioning straight into Taio Cruz’ Dynamite, which brought everyone whooping onto the dance floor. I could dedicate an entire post to her skills and ability to read a crowd; she’s truly phenomenal, and a master of the art form of being a champion DJ.

Another big hit was Cee Lo Green’s F*** You. My parents stole the show on this number—my mom literally kicked off her shoes to join my dad as they sauntered around the dance floor.

The following photo makes me chortle every time, because I distinctly remember the line that was playing when she made this gesture:

“And I’m like, f*** you!”

For me, the highlight of the dance party was the unforeseen chair lift. No one (aside from Mr. Tartlet) knew how enamored I was by the fellowship and gaiety surrounding the tradition after seeing it at BM Laura and GM Michael’s wedding and reading about Mrs. Hermit Crab’s horah to end all horahs. Because neither of us had ties to the Jewish faith, though, I kept my sentiments to myself. At the outset, I was in disbelief as we were herded onto the chairs.

Our friends and family gathered around us in preparation, and the excitement began to build.

As we were lifted into the air, I let out a squeal and started clapping in anticipation:

It was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating, and I was over the moon.

Most of my memories of those last two hours are a blur, riddled with snapshots of family members having a ball…

{Photo by Mama Tartlet}

…and even showing off some hidden talents:

I get flashes of friends cutting loose…

…and performing Dance Central’s workout to Cascada’s Evacuate the Dance Floor (another song I can’t hear without conjuring up images of our wedding reception):

The biggest compliment a friend paid us that night was when she declared that “this was a great party.”

As the evening wore on, the antics continued with GM Alex leading a spur-of-the-moment flash mob to EMF’s Unbelievable:

{Photo by Mama Tartlet}

People were sprawled on the floor during The Isley Brother’s Shout:

{Photo by Mama Tartlet}

And my beloved family did me proud by grooving until the very end.

{Photo by Mama Tartlet}

I was bedraggled, hot, and sweaty, but having the time of my life.

{Photo by Mama Tartlet}

It was a happy ending, and an even sweeter beginning.

*Unless specified, all photos by Aruna B. Photography

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