Love and Marriage and Lessons Learned From a Photobooth
I have to tell you something.
I’m an absolute sucker for weddings. I basically turn into a squealing frenzy of crazy every time we find out we’re actually able to make it to a friend’s nuptials. It probably doesn’t take very much explaining to understand why.
If I got an email from a wedding, telling me it was a dethroned prince, and offering to share millions of dollars with me, I would IMMEDIATELY give it my bank account and routing numbers. That is how much I love weddings.
This past weekend, we saw our friends Hillari and Andy get married. They are absurdly adorable together, as I whispered to Rand a half dozen times during the ceremony. Hillari works with my beloved, and a lot of her job consists of making sure THINGS HAPPEN in a smooth and orderly and wonderful way. So, naturally, her wedding followed those same lines. It was smooth and orderly and wonderful.
And at the reception, there was a photo booth. A PHOTO BOOTH, people. With props.
There was also alcohol involved. (I would like to note that, as per usual, I was stone cold sober, despite all appearances to the contrary.)
I’m going to share some of the photos with you today, because I think there’s something to be learned from them. And also because showing them to you negates their power as a blackmail device.
First things first. We need to talk about the face that I always end up making in photos. This face:
I totally ruined this photo. Seriously, look how lovely everyone looks, and how friggin’ radiant the bride is. AND THEN LOOK AT ME.
Sometimes I make this face when trying to seduce my husband.
Anytime someone is trying to capture a “candid” moment, I am making this exact face. I have apparently been doing this since infancy:
LOVE ME.
I sang “Time After Time” while making this:
33 years separates these two photos. But I swear, it passed in a one-eyed blink.
In other photos, I look less lobotomized, and more just “generally drunk.” Behold:
YESH. This ish alshow how I look when I give my Sean Connery impression. (Which Rand has repeatedly requested I stop doing in public.)
Let’s just focus on how adorable the groom is, and not my face.
I particularly like this one, because these were the exact faces we made when viewing the above photos:
Ummmm, no.
At some point, though, you have to give up on the self-criticism. And just accept yourself for who you are.
When you do that, sometimes you end up with some rather magical moments.
Eric, dead-center, playing the straight man, makes this one of the best pictures, ever.
I particularly like these ones of me and Rand.
Also pictured: a random elbow. Because life isn’t perfect and wouldn’t it be dreadful if it was?
There’s a pretty obvious lesson here. Something that goes beyond photos.
Maybe it even extends to marriage. About how sometimes you just need to be your weird-faced self.
And find someone who loves you for it. And friends who will applaud it.
I think when you have that, everything else just falls into place.
Congratulations, Hillari and Andy. Marriage is the absolute best. Welcome to the club.
