On our honeymoon, the other guests were also mostly honeymooners, and young ones at that. It was a little like high school. No one spoke to anyone else.
This suited Andy fine. “If we meet someone new, you’re going to tell them all the same boring stories I’ve heard a million times. How we met. How you thought I was a terrorist because I had a beard, how I stole you from Ethan, and all that.” Continue reading Honeymooners (#77)
In Ang Lee’s The Wedding Banquet, the Chinese bride and groom collapse in their hotel room after an exhausting wedding. There’s a knock on the door. The bride goes to answer it. The groom tries to stop her. Too late! All the young wedding guests pour into the hotel room, carting tables, chairs, booze, and supplies for potentially humiliating sexual games. They set up shop and party. Questionable, regrettable activities ensue.
The moral of the story? Never open the door. Continue reading Don’t Open the Door (#70)
It was the evening before my wedding. My Chinese-American fiancé and I had made the mistake of having an open bar at our rehearsal dinner. Despite Andy’s best efforts, most of our wedding party got trashed. The worst offenders were our brothers. My Big Brother, former Naval Officer, had conned my twenty-one-year-old Baby Brother into attempting to match his alcohol consumption. And while Andy’s little brother Denny had thankfully been cut off early by the bartender, he’d still downed too many shots.
As of 8 PM, Team Navy was still underway at full speed, Team China was barely afloat, and Team 21 was sinking fast. Continue reading Drunk Brothers & God: The Wedding Rehearsal (#69)
Continue reading Seven Rules for Your Wedding Rehearsal Dinner (#68)
The year before Andy and I got married, we went to nine weddings. Some were my friends, some were his friends, and some were mutual friends. My Chinese-American fiancé attended something like seven bachelor parties. Three were his closest friends: Salad, Pumpkin, and String Bean. Andy was String Bean’s best man, and he did String Bean’s party right – a boy’s night on the town, complete with pimp hat, handcuffs, and feather boa for the groom. Continue reading Alas for the Bachelor…Party (#60)
I couldn’t figure out why my wedding was so stressful until I compared it to making a movie.
If a wedding were a Hollywood movie, the bride would be the director, the producer, and the writer. She’s the costume designer, the casting director, and the location scout.
The bride is also the star.
The bride is so screwed. Continue reading Murphy’s Wedding (#57)
About a month before I was to marry my Chinese-American fiancé, the first groomsman bailed. This was Andy’s friend from high school, nicknamed “Salad.” Despite the fact that we’d been at Salad’s wedding in Hawaii the previous year, Salad wilted in the face of his new wife’s worries over the lengthy flight from Hawaii to New Hampshire. I figured Baby Greens were on the way. Continue reading If Your Number’s Up (#56)