Weddingbee Blog

I wasn’t a glass slipper kind of bride. But not just because, frankly, they sound exceedingly uncomfortable. No, the erratic, eclectic weather our wedding day heralded two years ago today demanded practicality.

{Cindy shot it, but just you wait hive—I’m so excited to do this photo justice by sharing all the details that led up to the moment the camera went “click.”}

I’ve long believed rain visits on significant days of my life.
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{ all images, moving forward, courtesy of the amazing Cindy Patrick, unless otherwise noted}

What do you do when your videographer holds your wedding video hostage? Unfortunately, Mr. Bruschetta and I had the distinct displeasure of learning firsthand how to manage this frustrating, emotional situation.

The initial delay, I’ll admit, was completely our fault. After our wedding, the mister and I immersed ourselves in all things house-hunting: HGTV and Zillow, learning the ins and outs of mortgages, inspections and appraisals (before closing on our “First and Forever” home in July 2010). We dragged our feet a bit getting our honeymoon pictures to our videographer (to be included in a slide-show featuring Andrea Bocelli’s rendition of O Sole Mio), but assumed the video could easily be finalized after passing these photos along to him.

We communicated with him every two or three weeks, and each time, the promise was the same:
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Daddy Bru was already a shoe-in for the “Best Father of the Bride” title after his art-acquiring heroics one week before our wedding (sorry, George Banks).

Little did I know that, while I was stressing over last-minute details and frantically trying to earn the status of “most tranquil bride,” Daddy Bru was juggling his own wedding-related load. He shared this story with us at the rehearsal dinner, and even then, less than 24 hours before the wedding, as Mr. Bruschetta and I laughed at his moxie, one thought bubbled to the surface: “I can’t wait to post about this on Weddingbee!”

Inspired by “Poor Wedding Dad“—Weddingbee Hive Hostess august15bride’s (now blogging / Tweeting as the fitness-loving Wannabe Athlete) father—I asked Daddy Bru if he would recount the tale his pre-wedding antics for the hive. I hope you enjoy it as much as we did! And now, here’s Daddy Bruschetta (with some links added by yours truly, and our “real” names used sparingly throughout) in his own words:

Two days before the wedding…and so much yet to do. Our contact at the F.U.E.L. House had a family emergency out of town, and left the final arrangements to an assistant. Mr. Bruschetta and I had to pick up all the booze and deliver it F.U.E.L. I figured while we were there, we’d make sure that appropriate art had been placed on the walls. Chris and I arrived at F.U.E.L.’s service entrance on 3rd Street, and began unloading case after case of adult beverages. We quickly saw that another unloading process was going on at the same time: A portrait gallery of assorted local artists’ landscapes, portraits, still lifes, etc.—a welcome relief from what had been labeled as art that adorned the walls before.

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The recaps are coming, I promise! Still have some pre-wedding (or, like this one, post-wedding) posts I want to share with the hive, though. (Feel free to help sway me in the comments by letting me know if you prefer recaps interspersed with background posts, or uninterrupted recaps!)

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Okay, here’s the background: Since closing on our “First & Forever” home at the end of July, my mind drifts easily to house-related projects. As we were preparing for settlement, Sister and BIL Bruschetta—who are expecting in mid-November—began preparing their first place for sale. And while Sister and BIL Bruschetta started searching for their new home, Mama Bru and I mailed the baby shower invitations—which included a small blurb encouraging guests to wrap their presents to reflect their “gender guess.”

New home, with potential rooms needing painting (especially the nursery!), plus new baby, with an upcoming pink-and-blue-themed shower to celebrate? The super cute DIY bows Jessica created over on How About Orange popped into my head, with one home-improvement-themed stand-in for the magazine pages: paint swatches.

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(Or, Why Daddy Bruschetta Could Be Mayor of Philadelphia)

You’re counting down to the wedding. Finishing up some projects, ditching others and trying to find the time to jot down a proper honeymoon packing list. The last thing you need right now is a curve ball. But that’s precisely what we got one week before our much-anticipated day.

In early 2008, when Mr. Bruschetta and I had secured our venue—the erstwhile F.U.E.L. House (which has since been rebranded “TRUST”)—we learned we’d be able to peruse the gallery as the wedding approached to see if we wanted to substitute any of the “stock” art stored on the building’s third (administrative) floor.

We adored the F.U.E.L. House (yeah, name change be damned! At least for the purposes of my posts, it just feels wrong to call the place where we celebrated so jubilantly something unfamiliar, to which we have absolutely no connection), for many reasons, including its eccentric art displays. We loved the idea of splashes of color—whether from abstract, three-dimensional pieces or paint-adorned canvases—infusing the beautiful, neutral-hued space.

Know what we saw lining the walls on August 21, 2009?
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There’s just something about that oh-so perfect ballroom dip. It gets me every time.

Luckily, my mister willingly agreed, early on in our planning process (don’t forget, hive, we had a practically-infinite-and-good-Lord-will-it-ever-end 20-month engagement) to assist with what would end up being one of the last DIY(ish) “projects” we could fit in before the wedding.

I’m talking, of course, about private dance lessons, and the choreographed number that resulted, and would transition our guests from cocktail hour to dinner and dancing.

Our goal: Master moves we could polish and perform during the just-over-two-minute-long song we’d selected. We didn’t want to look overly stiff or obviously cheesy (subtly, sure), but also hoped to become familiar enough with the sequences that no amount of nerves, elation or tipsy guests could break our rhythm. So we signed up for 10 sessions, to be stretched over the eight weeks remaining before our wedding.

(source)

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::sheepishly waving hello:: Hi, hive.

Simply put, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sure, the weeks and days leading up to our wedding were crazy, but I was…coping. (If you’re guessing there’s more to that deceptively-simple statement, you’re oh-so very right!) All of what *needed* to get done—and most of what we’d planned to accomplish—was checked off our trusty giant Post-It to-do list.

The big day came.

We smiled. We kissed. We cried. We ate. We danced. We celebrated.* And then we honeymooned.**

Now, a bit of background:
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… and we’re a couple of loafing newlyweds.

(source)

Our month-a-versary was earlier this week — love you, Mr. Bruschetta! — and my husband and I “celebrated” by vegging in front of the television. And the next night? Well, we relaxed and enjoyed some quality tube time together. (We’re just gleeful about the new show we recently added to our rotation.) Tonight? Yup, a bit more TV watchin’.

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There’s nothing like a wedding to create a lengthy to-do list. And as Mr. Bruschetta and I have recently discovered, that list doesn’t magically disappear after the last piece of cake’s been eaten. Nope, we’re still plodding along wrapping things up with vendors, starting to tackle our thank you notes and finding spots in our tiny apartment for our shiny new cooking tools.

Which brings me to… our registries. Mr. Bruschetta and I plan to spend our monetary wedding gifts — and shower gift cards — stocking our kitchen. (And our nonexistent china hutch; we were gifted two flatware settings and one china set — which would make for a reeeeally awkward dinner party — so we definitely need to add some more Kate and Vera to the family.) We’d discussed giving our exhausted credit cards a much-deserved reprieve, and revisiting our registries in early 2010.

But then Macy’s called. It turns out that our china and flatware are buy three get one free through October 4. Not tempting enough? Well, how ’bout an extra 10% off? Yup, Macy’s dangled the carrot. The completion discount carrot.

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There was only one aspect of our co-ed wedding shower I didn’t love: Being unprepared — since it was a surprise — with nary a thank you gift on hand for the party planners and hosts!

I worked quickly over the next few days to remedy this situation — the mister and I felt so loved and knew a ton of work had gone into the shower, and as a result, I had trouble focusing on other tasks until I had this one all wrapped up — and then realized everyone wouldn’t be together again until the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. So the gifts waited patiently in our den, and with them completed, I was free to continue hammering away at our to-do list.

Inspired by our festive Italian-themed celebration, I created green, white and red gift bags. Each contained a package of pasta and jar of gravy. We also included gift certificates to Moore Brothers — a specialty wine shop located a hop, skip and a jump from Philly. And to round out the feast, I semi-DIYed goofy, wordy pizza party vouchers. Wanna read the small print?

This coupon entitles the aforementioned recipient(s) to one (1) homemade pizza party with the dough-making duo listed above. Said party must be scheduled on a previously agreed upon date after the wedding craziness has passed. Furthermore, at this carb-tastic gathering – the location of which will be determined when consulting all necessary calendars to plan the soiree – the recipient(s) retain the right and privilege of selecting the preferred method of cooking, given the choice between baking and grilling, and bearing in mind the limitations of the venue at which the ultimate homemade pizzas will be constructed and consumed.

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Dearest hive,

Phew! It’s been a really tiring past few days. We got in Sunday night and were chatting it up with my parents for a bit before heading back to the apartment. (And later found, in the fridge, that Mama Bruschetta had cared for and maintained a portion of my bridal bouquet — sooooo cute! We also saw the first bit of evidence that Mama and Daddy Bru DID in fact have a dowry for their younger daughter… a fresh gallon of milk [though we’re still waiting for the rest of the cow] — and a carton of OJ, too — which made our initial American breakfast much easier, thanks again to the parental units.) Heads hit pillows that night at what — to our bodies — was about 4:15 AM Roman time. Exhausting.

We’re still not totally back to a normal sleep schedule. Mornings are easiest (though they start between 3:00 and 4:00 AM when my eyes just refuse to keep closed any longer!) and we’re tired by 7:30-8:00 at night (crazy, I know!). Espresso (hiya, girl! — loving the recaps!) has been playing a pretty key role in our days so far to keep us going, and keep me from caffeine withdrawal after one doppio too many in Italy. Mr. Bruschetta is in the midst of trying to jump through all the hoops to ensure he can take his PT certification exam (um, why does he need a brand new passport photo?) and be working by about this time next month (give or take), so for us, it’s sorta back to life as normal.
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And this bee — and her mister — did it this past weekend!

We’ve just finished packing up — the post-wedding cleaning up will hafta wait — for our dreamy dozen days in Italy. As much as I want to sit and replay every. single. moment. of our wedding (and the days leading up to it) with our nearests and dearests, I’m also giddy at the thought of having my husband (!!!) whisk me away. I couldn’t board the plane, though, without giving the hive a little something to buzz about until we get back…

We watched in awe as our friends and family came together Saturday to celebrate something so simple, and yet, so significant: our love. The day — 5AM ’til midnight — was filled with unexpected surprises, intense emotions… and amazing photography.

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Time has been significant for the Bruschettas. In 2001 when we officially acknowledged each other as boyfriend and girlfriend, six days separated what would become our dating anniversary from my high school graduation. For the next few years, our own routines kept us busy during the week — but weekends often meant visits, whether for movie dates or (more frequently) study dates. And in 2005 when I began grad school, months became the new marker, filling the time between my visits home to Philly or Mr. Bruschetta’s several treks up to Boston.

Clearly, patience has been pretty important, too. After the mister’s on-bended-knee and with-ring-box-in-hand moment, 638 days separated us from our wedding day. But today, the wait will finally end when I marry my best friend.

To the hive and my fellow bees: I’m eternally grateful for this opportunity to share the whirlwind journey that has been the last six months. I truly hope you’ve enjoyed following along at least half as much as I’ve enjoyed writing each post. (And since I still have much to share with you all — including surprises I didn’t want to reveal before the wedding, as well as details and reflections I shifted to the back burner as the end of August rapidly approached — rest assured I’ll remain a presence until you’ve heard our entire story!)
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The mister and I recently revisited our church (on the beautiful Villanova University campus) and reception neighborhood (in the Old City section of Philadelphia) to scout out the most “photogenic” areas for our post-ceremony pictures.

Since we’re crossing off the formals and posed pictures in the morning, this portion of the wedding day will focus much more on photojournalism — and perhaps will include a bit of TTD (but no actually trashing, don’t worry) in the mix!

I’ve mentioned before how strict our church is, so while we’re hoping to sneak some pictures in the church after the wedding, no one will be surprised if we get unceremoniously booted after the mass. (Especially since there still might be a 3:30 wedding after our 1:30 hour-long ceremony concludes.) Weather permitting (and at the moment, we’re all keeping fingers and toes crossed in the Bruschetta household), we could retreat to one of the grassy areas in front of the church…

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So when we last left the Bruschetta wedding favor saga, the mister and I had triumphantly exited the supermarket. Not ten minutes earlier, I was stooping to grab an item off a low shelf, and noticed a box out of the corner of my eye. A picture of delicious-looking popcorn covered the front, and — I know this sounds a little silly — I felt my pulse quicken. (Seriously, this favor situation had been stressing me out big-time!)

My glance fell next on the flavor: Cranberry almond. Damn. Almost immediately, though, I wondered if other varieties existed. I started pawing through the boxes — and almost didn’t believe my eyes when I found the most perfect, purple-accented one. The key ingredients? Chocolate, caramel and pecan.

I hurried off to find Mr. Bruschetta and share my discovery. We agreed to sample the product before committing to purchase one for each of our guests; I tore open the box and ripped into a packet as soon as we’d paid for our items. Was it as delicious as the pricey gourmet sample we had almost ordered? Well, no. But the supermarket version had a more prevalent nutty flavor — thanks to tiny little nut pieces throughout the mixture, instead of just one or two whole nuts per handful. And since the treat isn’t enrobed in chocolate, we wouldn’t have the seasonal concerns (or expensive shipping costs) that would have come with the fancier option. (As one more bonus, the SMARTFOOD popcorn baggies are only 120 calories each, so this selection also reflects our attempts to eat healthy!)

The next day, I returned home from work to find a surprise awaiting me.
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