The Wedding

(Waiting at the altar.  Photo © 2009 by Robin)

Well.  Here it is.  The wedding post.  I have to warn you:  It’s long.  Very long.  Very, very long.  And I spent entirely too much time on the hair and make-up thing.  It shouldn’t have been a big deal but it kinda’ was so it seemed worthy of the time.  Anyway, enjoy or turn back now.  (I’d turn back if I were you.  If you’re interested in today’s photo and post, scroll down.  It’s there.  And much shorter.)

I did not take many pictures at the wedding or the reception.  I wanted to enjoy the ceremony and celebrations without worries about the camera or good shots or any of that.  Besides, they had a professional photographer they were paying to take care of capturing the moments.  I can purchase photos from him if I so desire.  The few photos I did take are not all that great, but they caught what I wanted to catch (such as my father up there, behind the groom).

To be honest, the wedding and reception are all sort of a blur.  A good blur with lots of wonderful feelings, but a blur nonetheless.  My recall might be better if I start at the beginning of the day when I went off to have my hair and make-up done.

What an excellent idea that turned out to be!  After having my hair washed, cut, and then styled, I blurted out, “I’m so glad I did this!”  My stylist or hairdresser or whatever they call themselves these days looked at me a little puzzled so I clarified it for her:  It was nice to sit back, relax, and let someone else do all the work for me.  I felt pampered, I did.

I loved what Dianne did with my hair.  Then we went off to do make-up.  Scary stuff, make-up.  I don’t wear it very often, mostly because I don’t know how to apply it properly.  When I do venture to put some on I feel self-conscious, as if I just slathered myself with clown make-up.  Dianne started with foundation, something I practiced putting on for a few days before the wedding (precisely because I didn’t want to feel like I’d just been slathered with clown make-up).  Once that was done, she started on my eyebrows.  That’s where things got really frightening.  As a lighthaired person, my eyebrows are almost invisible.  Dianne penciled them in and made them look bigger and wider.  I didn’t quite recognize myself.  At some point I had her tone down the eyebrows a little (she powdered over them) because it was too much for me.

By the time Dianne finished I was pretty pleased with it all.  Then I stepped outside into the sunlight and looked at myself in the car’s rearview mirror.  I was afraid to go home.  Even worse, I was afraid that when I got home I’d end up washing it all off.

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