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Mar. 18th, 2003 12:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_rckIn the morning, we decided to go back to the Zanzibar Café and try their breakfast selections. I had pancakes with fruit and split a side of bacon and a smoothie with Scott. This proved to be more than my system wanted to handle even though I stopped before I felt particularly full. This time, I managed to escape with just reflux and an aversion to the thought of eating ever again. At the time, I figured that, well, after all I'd been sick the night before. It was to be expected that my digestive system would be grumpy.
We discussed various options for things to do but ended up not doing any of them. We called my brother (who'd arrived after we went to bed the night before), and he promised to come over after he showered. He and my parents were staying at the Tropicana, two doors down and nearly a mile away. So we waited and waited. We couldn't reach him (or anybody else!) after that, but we didn't feel like we could go anywhere when he might show up at any moment.
Several hours later, he finally dropped by (Yes, I'm rather annoyed by this. Members of my family do this to each other routinely. I seem to be the only one who'll actually keep waiting instead of wandering away in my turn and saying, "Well, we figured you'd find us when you got here." I don't know why I keep expecting things will be different each time). We had, at that point, insufficient time to go to lunch before the wedding (a lack I didn't feel strongly about since food still seemed repulsive). In fact we only got to talk for about fifteen minutes before we needed to head downstairs in search of the chapel. We found it immediately, so I think my brother was a little annoyed that I insisted on starting so early, but I rather expect it'd have taken us a lot longer to find it if I hadn't allowed a half an hour for the search.
The chapel was tiny but very pretty. It was painted with trees and flowers and clouds, very non-religious. My brother wandered away while Scott and I settled in to wait. We knew my sister was in the process of dressing in a side room, but she'd let us know that she didn't want witnesses right then.
The service went pretty quickly. The rest of the family had to pretty much force my mother and step-father (my father wasn't there) to sit up front when they tried to bury themselves the back (not that four or five rows of "pews" that will hold at most five people each gives much room for hiding). My step-father was utterly stunned when somebody came out from the back to tell him that Laura wanted him to walk her down the aisle. She hadn't warned him, and he wasn't at all sure what he was supposed to do.
The groom's mother cried, and so did I. Laura looked gorgeous and happy. Tripp looked happy and nervous. The whole thing, including pictures took about 40 minutes. The minister stayed away from all religious matters; the closest he came was quoting Gibran. My step-father kept encouraging (almost to the point of heckling) Laura to refuse some of the photographer's demands for particular poses, but she ignored him.
Laura also had a photographer of her own who took pictures at the reception which was in a suite at the Aladdin. I think Laura assumed that the chapel photos (which were, I believe, part of the package deal for the chapel and minister) were more for her new in-laws than anything else. The other photographer was a friend of hers from Atlanta who does black and white pictures and whose work Laura really admires.
We discussed various options for things to do but ended up not doing any of them. We called my brother (who'd arrived after we went to bed the night before), and he promised to come over after he showered. He and my parents were staying at the Tropicana, two doors down and nearly a mile away. So we waited and waited. We couldn't reach him (or anybody else!) after that, but we didn't feel like we could go anywhere when he might show up at any moment.
Several hours later, he finally dropped by (Yes, I'm rather annoyed by this. Members of my family do this to each other routinely. I seem to be the only one who'll actually keep waiting instead of wandering away in my turn and saying, "Well, we figured you'd find us when you got here." I don't know why I keep expecting things will be different each time). We had, at that point, insufficient time to go to lunch before the wedding (a lack I didn't feel strongly about since food still seemed repulsive). In fact we only got to talk for about fifteen minutes before we needed to head downstairs in search of the chapel. We found it immediately, so I think my brother was a little annoyed that I insisted on starting so early, but I rather expect it'd have taken us a lot longer to find it if I hadn't allowed a half an hour for the search.
The chapel was tiny but very pretty. It was painted with trees and flowers and clouds, very non-religious. My brother wandered away while Scott and I settled in to wait. We knew my sister was in the process of dressing in a side room, but she'd let us know that she didn't want witnesses right then.
The service went pretty quickly. The rest of the family had to pretty much force my mother and step-father (my father wasn't there) to sit up front when they tried to bury themselves the back (not that four or five rows of "pews" that will hold at most five people each gives much room for hiding). My step-father was utterly stunned when somebody came out from the back to tell him that Laura wanted him to walk her down the aisle. She hadn't warned him, and he wasn't at all sure what he was supposed to do.
The groom's mother cried, and so did I. Laura looked gorgeous and happy. Tripp looked happy and nervous. The whole thing, including pictures took about 40 minutes. The minister stayed away from all religious matters; the closest he came was quoting Gibran. My step-father kept encouraging (almost to the point of heckling) Laura to refuse some of the photographer's demands for particular poses, but she ignored him.
Laura also had a photographer of her own who took pictures at the reception which was in a suite at the Aladdin. I think Laura assumed that the chapel photos (which were, I believe, part of the package deal for the chapel and minister) were more for her new in-laws than anything else. The other photographer was a friend of hers from Atlanta who does black and white pictures and whose work Laura really admires.
