I secretly love going to other people's weddings. Fred and I have been to six since we've been together. I always outwardly make a big fuss—"I can't believe we have to go to another wedding this weekend. Ugh." But inside I'm thinking "Yay! I get to dress up and eat free pot stickers and drink free vodka tonics and slow dance with Fred!" It beats movie night at home with a leftover carton of pork lo mein.
Since we've been engaged I've liked them for another reason: I learn a lot about what we will and won't do at our own wedding. It's like being a senior in high school and going on a college visit. There's an 8:1 guy to girl ratio? Nice. They don't serve French fries in the
cafeteria? Minus 10 points.
In the case of the wedding we went to this last weekend: It was a 500 person black-tie affair—and there was no bar. They served Kool-aid. After we got over our shock, Fred and I learned three things on Saturday.
1. We don't want 500 people at our wedding. The bride couldn't nearly get around to all of them and a lot of people didn't know each other, making for an awkward atmosphere.
2. Black-tie is way too formal. We've more of a kick-off your loafers and relax type of couple.
3. Our Kool-aid will be spiked with Everclear.
But there was one thing that we will definitely duplicate: the couple loved the hell out of each other. When she walked down the aisle toward him, the groom had tears flowing freely down both cheeks. It's so emotional to see man be so…well, emotional. (Fred—you better cry at our wedding, dammit.) And the bride was cheesing so hard when she saw
him, I'm sure her jaw is going to be sore for days.
When they said their vows, Fred squeezed my hand. It's hard to believe we will be saying those same words to each other in eight months. That romantic moment alone almost made up for the lack of vodka tonics at the reception. But not quite.