Archives for posts with tag: wedding

My wife and I got married because we love each other. We got married because that seemed like the next step in life. We got married because we could. (Thank you Iowa and Minnesota) Like a good modern couple the cohabitating, dog adopting, and mortgage came before the marriage. The wedding felt like a mere formality. An excuse to have a party. We didn’t think it would change much.

But it did. It changed something huge and intangible.

We aren’t dating any more. She isn’t my girlfriend. We are married. She is my spouse. She is my wife. These are words society at large understands. We don’t have to explain that our partnership is deep and true and real, these words do it for us.

Also being married got us a post on A Bicycle Built for Two. That’s kinda fun.

I love this girl.

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The wife and I made the Wall Street Journal’s Life and Culture section today. Seriously. Featured image and everything. Here’s the link:

Jewelers Woo Engaged Same-Sex Couples – WSJ

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Our story opens the article:

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Close enough.

As far as I can recall, this is the first time I’ve been quoted. Mentioned maybe but never quoted. It’s an odd feeling. The words attributed to me don’t ring false but I can’t help raising an eyebrow. Is that exactly what I said? Does this story, this little blurb of my life, really represent me? Does it accurately represent my marriage? Not really.

This article doesn’t show much about us. Barely a glimpse really. You can’t see the grit that makes up our daily life: the mortgage and walking the dog and making dinner and shoveling snow at six in the morning. These few sentences don’t show the love that drew us together, the marriage that’s simply awesome.

But that’s ok.

In this anecdote, we’re an example of the new normal. We sit on that fence between normal and unknown. Like any engaged couple we needed to buy wedding rings. Unlike that other couple (that straight couple), we also needed to explain ourselves. Fine. Hopefully what we did in that store, and with this article, is have that mildly uncomfortable conversation for other couples. Hopefully we took one for the team.

That’s love.

Last weekend, my best friend got married.

The wedding couldn’t have been more perfect. The bride looked stunning. The groom couldn’t stop smiling. We danced and ate and drank and ate some more and danced some more. It was goddamn perfect.

While we were running around before the wedding – picking up the dress, getting the bride’s hair and make-up did – we ran across this bus:

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Yes, that’s right. A little bit of celebrity right here in Des Moines. (Don’t act like Jeff Timmons wasn’t your favorite boy bander – he’s certainly mine now.) As shocking as it might be, Des Moines doesn’t see many celebrities. We have the occasional musician or comedian come to town for a show. Ashton Kutcher returns home once in awhile. Then there is election season – which is another beast entirely – but generally we live up to our flyover status.

Though the picture doesn’t quite show it I love the contrast of these two people. My friend on her wedding day. All sunshine and future rainbows ahead. Then there is Jeff – clinging to the last bit of celebrity. Don’t get me wrong, he was a sweet guy and very pretty but it’s hard not to feel desperation rolling off a bus plastered with shirtless men.

Still, it was a nice to have this little bit of outside celebrity with our own weekend celebrity. With that, let’s call this one the bride and stripper:

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On the hottest day in June we stood on a gravel path that cut through a prairie in central Iowa. We held small bouquets arranged by my mother-in-law, calla lilies and freesia. My brother combed his hair and tucked in his shirt. My mother cried. The dog behaved. My wife-to-be looked beautiful, like the best kind of summer girl in her green dress – even when she made that scrunched up cry face while saying our vows.

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Back at my mother’s house, just down the road, our families and friends gathered. More people than I expected Food. Games. Beer. Wine. More love than I deserve. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

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Over the Thanksgiving weekend the girlfriend and I ran some wedding errands in Des Moines. The plan is to have a simple backyard party. No one will be giving anyone away. No one will be walking down any aisles. No bridesmaids. No bouquets.  We want simple. We want good food, good beer and we want to share it with the people we love. That simple idea turns out not to be so simple.

There are so many decisions to make. Do we do a cocktail hour? What color should the napkins be? What about music? Kegs or beer bottles? Plastic cups or glass? What about for the kids? What if it rains? Should we rent a tent? Where will everyone park? What if the zombie apocalypse is upon us?

I know it can still be simple. I believe in my heart that the day I get married can be lovely instead of stressful. I believe we can have fun and so can our friends.  I know that whatever we choose will be perfect. It will be perfect, I know it, if we can just get off this terrifyingly unsteady swinging bridge of decisions.

I also know – because it’s fucking awesome, this being in love business – that even if the wedding happens on top of the swinging bridge, in the middle of a goddamn hurricane, during the end of times, it will be wonderful.  (I just have to remember that when I’m thinking about what type of chair to rent.)

Ok, I’m going to stop before this metaphor gets really out of control.

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