Wedding, Part 2

Ha, when I first typed the title, I wrote "Party 2." Guess you know where this is headed.

On second thought, I'm gonna cap this off before the party. If all you're looking for are a bunch of boozed up, dressed up, dancing fools, go ahead and skip this post.

Now, we've come to...

PART TWO: PRIMPING & PRE-WEDDING PICTURES

Because Dave and I had a lot of out-of-town guests (as in, 90%), we decided NOT to be assholes and smartly opted for having the ceremony and reception back-to-back in the same location -- the 39th floor Penthouse/Ballroom at Hotel 71. That meant we had to take our pictures before all of the hooplah. No biggie.

But before I get to all that, let's go through the primping and preparations.

And so it begins.

I LOVED the photographers.

Drunky McDrunkerson getting her hair done.

Priceless look.

Okay, now me!

Finishing up.

Right around this point, I realized that I could NOT calm my jitters. I turned to my mom.

Me: Ma. I can't freaking calm my nerves. Do you have anything that could just relax me?

She's no drug dealer, but she is, unfortunately, an unhealthy person. As such, Mom always has an arsenal of pills. Pills that she likes to keep for herself.

Mom: Um, nothing.

Me: Come on, just LOOK at me here, I'm a wreck.

I know. I was demanding pills from my sick mother. This wedding made me have no shame.

Mom: Well, I guess I could give you an Ativan...

Me: Yes. I don't know what that is, but that sounds fabulous.

Mom rolls her eyes and goes up to her room to grab a pill. A tiny, tiny, pill. Seriously, it was smaller than my birth control. After a while of feeling no change, I asked for just one more. Mom told me I could only have it if I didn't drink. I said okay.

I lied.

The Ativan relaxed me a bit, so I could continue getting ready and be photographed.

Was able to get the back strapped up with minimal confusion.

Loved my hair! I told him what I wanted in the front, but left the back up to him.

And then came time for the Big Meet-Up. Dave and I met across the street from Hotel 71 at the Vietnam Veterans' Memorial.

Posing like a jackass while waiting for the elevator.

The big reveal.

Dave is so freaking cute.

Smiles and corncobs. (You call those the Corncob Buildings too, right?)

Corncobs and Trump.

Then we loaded the wedding party into our party bus and drove around the city to places like the Kinzie St. Bridge, La Salle St. and the Chicago Theater. We had hoped to get pictures by the beach with views of the city in the background, but Redbull Flutag took a big, giant shit all over that idea. Oh well! Didn't turn out bad, I'd say.

Photographers really liked the urban thing, as did we.

La Salle Street. Sweet car on the right, by my brother.

The boys. Even though Ryan, on the left, was MY bridesmaid.

Pretty bridal party.

Dave! Triangle hair!

We were told to strut. Only my sister and I did it.

Twirling in the street. You drop me, you die.

Kisses!

Kinzie Street Bridge. Don't fall, Constance.

Love it!

Clouds, but no rain. That would have SUCKED.

Chicago Theater

This reminds me of a Mentos commercial.

Wedding bands.

Small wedding parties = goodness.

Don't trip on the sewer. Don't trip on the sewer.

My siblings and I pay no attention. Dave and his Best Man do.

Again, Dave steals my friend Ryan. Okay, OUR friend Ryan, but he was mine first.

Waiting while the girls get a few pictures.

Ladies' turn.

More kisses!

Dave wanted to go on the train. Not in my Nicole Miller, sweetheart!

These steps were as far as I would go.

What if we were really like this? Creeptastic.

For all the brides out there, if you really want good pictures, just shut up and let your photographer do whatever he wants. We gave our guys complete and total freedom, and we couldn't be happier with what they did. It pays not to be pushy. For once. ;-)

Anyway, once the pictures were all done -- only took about an hour -- we headed back to the hotel to sit in tense, tense anxiety for another 45 minutes. Just sat near the windows, listened to a bit of music and waited. Well, and I drank more wine. Big shocker.

FINALLY, it was time. My heart was pounding. I couldn't believe that after nearly 2 years of planning, it was all really happening...