Ok, I don't actually remember what the thing was called. All I know is that Sam sent me a link to some page where it took me literally four minutes to fill out some basic information and receive a certificate that bestowed upon me enough power to legally bind people to one another for life.
It was almost disappointingly easy to obtain this power. It kind of makes me question all authority considering that the following things took more effort in my life to obtain than a certificate authorizing me to marry people to each other:
1. My food handler's permit when I was 15
2. Costco Membership
4. Respect from my mailman
5. "I Voted" stickers at any election
As you can see by number 6, the list could go on and on.
In any event, newly ordained and with the power vested in me by The Church of the Holy Internet, I began researching what one is supposed to say as The Officiant. This research was mostly unhelpful because Sam had charged me with "keeping it unique, light, and funny," which by the way is way more intimidating that "boring and sentimental." Because when you stand in front of a crowd and say polite romantic cliches, you need no reaction from the crowd to punctuate the substance. But having a joke be met with silence from a large audience is worse than death. I would even go as far as to say it's worse than camping.
And you guys know I don't take my camping comparisons lightly.
So when the wedding day arrived, I found myself surprisingly more nervous than I have ever been to speak in front of other humans. This includes any time I have ever been to court and every time Bob and Cathie forced me to call grownups and apologize for my "behavior" when I was 10.
This was a gay wedding with attendees from all sorts of backgrounds, religious and non, and so I took some risks with jokes specific to the situation, including hypotheses about this wedding being the result of a "pregnancy scare" and a suggestion that no matter any attendee's background, we were all there for one common reason: to admire the wedding dress.
These went over well enough, and served as something of an intro to the lovely exchange of vows that followed.
And it turned out to be one of the most beautiful occasions I've ever had the honor of attending.
And then it was ruined by the wedding photographer. Or, rather, it was ruined by me, as was explained by the wedding photographer.
Look. We didn't practice this. There was no rehearsal. I had no idea where I was supposed to stand during the vows part. Was I supposed to stay in the middle? Was I supposed to lie on the ground? Was I supposed to go wait in the car?
I STILL DON'T KNOW.
But as they started saying their vows, and I noticed the photographer was attempting to catch the moment, it suddenly felt very inappropriate that I was there. Like I was some kind of creepy voyeur.
And so, I, VERY EXTREMELY AWKWARDLY, basically climbed into the wildlife growing beside the rocks you can see in the above picture. This seemed like the only option, considering that all of the parents were standing to the side and so there wasn't really any room for me to move in that direction.
|(I stole this photo from someone on Facebook and I don't even remember who anymore. Sorry!)|
The vows ended, and I frolicked through the flowers and back to the center where I did the "I do" stuff. And when I pronounced them "married," I suddenly realized that once again I needed to move out of the way for the kiss and congratulations, etc. But having learned from the previous off-roading experience, I opted this time to just shuffle to the side as far as reasonably possible. WHICH was not far.
And so, this beautiful photographed moment:
|Photo cred: Nick Totin|
Without my cropping, looks a lot like this:
You know what, I'ma help you get a better view of whatever the Hell is happening in the background of this picture.
YOU GUYS! WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING!? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT FACE I'M MAKING!?
Clearly I'm thinking about Cheetos.
Also, this is definitely the most I have ever related to Barb from Stranger Things:
I texted Sam the photo the moment it was sent to me. We both admired it appropriately. I mentioned that this was my new favorite photo of us together. Then I remembered that it actually still takes second place. Because:
Congrats, pal. After two decades, you are still like a brother to me. Or, per the above photo, "sister."
I love you as much as one friend can love another, and I couldn't be more happy for you and your happiness.
Sorry that I photobombed your wedding.
~It Just Gets Stranger