I woke up early on the morning of Tuesday, June 30th, with the usual anxious butterflies.  I'd almost started getting used to them, since for the past week or so they'd make their presence known in the morning, preventing me from enjoying breakfast and keeping me notified that I was actually getting married in (n) days/hours.  Though I constantly reassured myself and knew fully well that there was, in fact, nothing to be anxious about, some part of my subconscious mind apparently refused to heed any sort of logic or self-confidence.

So I got dressed and Maris and my butterflies and I went over to the hotel's little café area for some sustenance.  We charged some extremely overpriced bacon, fruit, and coffee to the room, of which I could hardly finish, and then headed back to begin preparations.

As a groom, my preparations take far less time to complete than my bride's, leaving wide time windows to needlessly ruminate about what could go wrong and feed the fuel of anxiety.  So, for the next couple of hours I just sat down with a book and tried to relax, enjoying the cool breeze and picturesque ocean view from our hotel room balcony.  This actually worked quite well, until the time came for me to vacate and let the bridesmaids do their thing while the groomsmen and I rendezvoused in my parents' room on the opposite end of the hotel.

It was 2:00 in the afternoon and our detailed and thorough timeline didn't require us men to be completely ready until 5:30, so we had some time to kill.  My dad ordered room service and we watched a collection of viral video clips on one of the hotel's tv channels.  As my groomsmen arrived we mostly just sat around and shot the proverbial shit.  My sister and her boyfriend were sort of in and out of the room with us too, since she wasn't sure if she was to be included in the bridesmaids' room preparations or not.  I reassured her that she'd be more than welcome to go over there, and I think once she did she ended up sticking around for the remainder of the afternoon, later comparing the temporary groosmen's den to be comparatively quiet and boring.

After I'd munched on some club sandwiches and seen christian the lion twice, I decided I may as well put on my tux.  I was definitely fortunate that there were others there to help me put it on properly, because I was clueless about how to adjust the suspenders and bowtie.  Furthermore, it seemed Terry was the only one among us who knew how to properly integrate the cufflinks.

With the french doors closed, tux on, and five guys getting ready in one room, it started getting stuffy and hot, so I opted to open them up and enjoy the perfect weather.  The sun was warm, but the breeze coming off the ocean was just cool enough to balance it out.  A couple of my norcal friends were there early and found me and some of my groomsmen standing around outside on the grass, so they met up with me and chatted for a bit before I went back inside to check on everyone else's progress.  Eventually, 5:00 rolled around and everyone was present and ready to roll except for Justin, so I gave him a call.  He was on his way, already dressed and set to go so I told him we'd be at the bar having some stiff pre-ceremony drinks to take off the edge.

I usually dress pretty casually and most of the head turns I get are because I've got a neon pink-haired girl in my arm, so it was an unusual but not altogether unpleasant experience to walk down the hall with my dad and groomsmen in tow, decked out in our exceptionally formal tuxedos, carrying some classy canes, and being noticed and greeted by all of the guests and employees we passed.  We hit up the bar and I got myself a Johnny Walker Black on the rocks, which went down nice and smooth.  It definitely helped keep the edge off, but everyone kept asking me if I was nervous, which kept reminding me and returning those familiar tingles and coldness to my fingers.

Eventually more of our guests arrived and ended up hanging out at the bar, too.  Some of my Dad's family, Andre and Jen, Michelle and Erin, Gino, and some of Marissa's cousins found us there.  Andre and Jen distracted me for awhile by explaining the premise and examples of "the deadliest warrior", which they'd been watching at Justin's place for the past couple days.  Eventually Terry was instructed by Lisa, our wedding planner, to keep an eye out for the photographer.  We were supposed to meet him in the lobby, but since we were all congregated and comfortable in the ultra classy bar, he ended up meeting us there.  

I was getting a little nervous because he was supposed to meet us at 5:30, and half an hour later still wasn't there.  It turns out that he was taking photos of the bridesmaids since 4:30, and was having such a good time with them that he couldn't help but spend an extra 30 minutes capturing all of the fun, beautiful, magical things that happen in a bride's room.

So eventually he found us and had us walk downstairs to the breezeway.  I think he kept us busy enough with constantly posing for photos that I didn't have any more time to really contemplate anxiety.  Many more of our guests were now gathering down in the breezeway, and as my groomsmen and I walked out there we heard a collective "oooooohh" from them, which was an awesome feeling.  I don't think I'd ever been "ooh"d before.  So we got some fun photos there with me and my men, and then a bunch more with family members and various groupings.  

Eventually he finished up and I was instructed by our wedding planner to look around for any important guests that hadn't arrived yet, like I could really think of that once my mind was back on this being the final moment.  I reported back that I couldn't see anyone, so we were ready to begin!  The guests were ushered to their seats, and our planner did last minute checks and said the magic words "beginning positions!"

So we all got in to our starting places, as we had practiced the prior evening.  My Dad in front, followed by myself, then Cob, the best man, and my other three groomsmen.  As we stood around there waiting, trying not to be nervous, we were instructed to look straight out at the ocean instead of forward where we would be walking.  I guess we looked a little too ready to roll and not enough on cool, collected standby.  Cob and my dad grabbed some last-minute strawberry ice water from the cooler there, ensuring that their whistles would be sufficiently wet for their forthcoming speeches.

After a few more minutes of quiet, slightly anxious chat, not unlike being strapped into a roller coaster and waiting for the final checks to be completed before shooting off, we were given the signal to begin.  I followed my Dad up to where the digital piano was set up, trying to remember to smile and walk like I'm at a celebration and not a funeral, and sat down at the bench.  

Then I noticed that the piano book wasn't in the music stand.  I'd brought it along because I hadn't quite memorized the first piece I'd planned on performing, Edward Macdowell's "To a Wild Rose".  It's an exceptionally simple and slow song, but I think in it's simplicity there lies a vagueness that makes it harder to memorize than something much more complex and detailed.  Additionally, it's so easy to sight-read that my usual muscle memory never really takes over while I'm playing.  I'd practiced it enough that it was familiar to me to play by ear, but not to perform exactly as it's written.

Anyway, I asked several times, as discreetly as I could, "umm...piano book..?"  But nobody answered.  To this day I'm still not sure where it went.  So I just sat there and kept my eyes on the wedding planner, as she was to give me the go-ahead to start playing the first song.  I couldn't remember exactly which hand motion was the starting signal, but she looked like she was doing something so I started playing as best I remembered.

I soon realized that, not being used to an 88-key keyboard, I was actually playing an octave too low.  So after the first 16 measures, I jumped up an octave like it was all part of the song.  I continued playing, trying to rely on my selectively laissez-faire muscle memory, and ended up doing a sort of milktoast approximation.  The melody was there, the chords were correct, but the notes weren't exactly as Mr. Macdowell had intended, so in my mind it wasn't as good.  But it functioned.

So I'm about halfway through the song, looking down the aisle, and nobody's there yet.  I started wondering if I'd began with the wrong hand signal, or if I was supposed to wait for something else to happen, and if I was just making a fool out of myself by playing away up there at the wrong time.  But eventually they did start walking up.  I was relieved, but I was also getting near the end of the song.  I'm pretty comfortable improvising and was considering repeating some verses, but the end had such a finality to it that I knew it'd sound weird as soon as I played.  So instead I just tried tacking on my own ending, adding some slower and simpler chord variations until finally Irene came up at the back of the line and they were done.

I set down my hands, trying to remain calm, and waited for my next signal.  Soon enough, there it was, so I began playing the second piece for Marissa's entrance, Debussy's "Deux Arabesque".  This one I'd committed to muscle memory, so it was simply a matter of relaxing as much as possible and letting my subconcscious brain do the work.  It also does a lot of jumping up and down the keyboard so that I have to look at my hands frequently.  Because of this, I was looking down for the majority of the intro.  

When I did take a moment to look up, there was my bride, slowly walking towards me, glowing in the sun that seemed to have just broken through the remaining cloud cover.  There was just enough breeze to subtly toy with the locks of hair she'd left down, which was complemented beautifully by the bouquet she was holding.  If it was a scene from a game I would have perhaps scoffed that they were abusing HDR bloom on her dress, but it was reality! 

For the past few day's we'd been a little concerned that her hair style, which had been meticulously prepared by her stylist three days prior, wouldn't stand the trial of a few nights sleep and days of traveling and general hustling around, taking care of business.  But at that moment I saw her I knew everything had turned out okay, all of my anxiety subsided, and her smile was a radiant confirmation of that.

Except I maybe got a little too caught up in the moment, because I felt my fingers fumble and hit a few keys that weren't quite right.  Okay, back to business, I was ready to charge through the rest of the piece and get on with the ceremony!  The rest felt like it flowed pretty easily.  After finishing off, making sure to end it nicely and not sound rushed, I walked to the front of the aisle and took her hand.  Then we walked up to the microphone and faced my Dad, and he began the ceremony.

I think Marissa's evident happiness was contagious, because at that point I had a permanent grin on that would've taken a serious force of nature to bring down.  I was so glad that this moment we'd been planning for so long was turning out exactly as we'd wanted, and that Marissa and I could share that joy without saying a word.  I was almost too caught up in the bliss of that shared happiness to pay attention to what my Dad was saying, though I did notice he seemed a little bit nervous...which I thought was odd considering how often he does speak publicly as a lawyer.  But he confessed that he was just getting a little choked up about it all, which was very endearing.  

So he gave part of the speech, then it was Melody's turn to do her reading.  I knew she had some standing bets about whether or not she would cry during her speech, so I was amused to see her getting there, then taking a moment to regain her composure before continuing.  But she won!  Then it was Jakob's turn, and he narrated his reading well too, without rushing through.  It meant a lot to have him participate in our wedding, congratulating us and celebrating our togetherness, because there had been friction years ago between he and Marissa and I.  Although I believe that's all long in the past now, it felt like a definitive confirmation, and part of a welcoming acceptance of Marissa into the family.

After Cob was done, my Dad finished off the ceremony with our vows.  All we had to do is say the "I do" part, so it was pretty easy.  I felt like I should say it into the microphone so everyone could hear, but the mic was very directional and didn't pick up my voice anyway, so I ended up just looking kind of silly doing that.  My sister brought us our rings and we put them on each other for real (as opposed to testing them out when we received them from my aunt).  I thought it was kind of funny that Maris had forgotten to take off her engagement ring, but I probably would've done the exact same thing.  Then my Dad pronounced us, we did a standard wedding kiss, then turned to face our guests.  Stood there for a little while, then walked down.  I'm sure they were all applauding but I was so absorbed in my state of joyful accomplishment that I don't even remember hearing them clapping.

We walked back to the corner and enjoyed some dangerously easy-to-drink champagne and hors d'oeurves while the guests were ushered to the bar area for cocktails.  I was too happy to even pig out on hors d'oeurves, but the champagne went down great.

Soon enough our wedding party was amassing around us and congratulating and joking and already having a good time.  It was agreed all around, the ceremony was a huge success, perfectly tailored to what Marissa and I wanted.  And now it was time to parttyyyyyy~~~

(i'll save that for the next entry, this one's long enough!)