Our whole reason for going to California, despite what you may think, was not to remind me how ugly and dirty NYC is compared to the rest of the country. It was mostly for that, but it was also in part to see Kamran’s long-time friend Diana get married to her long-time boyfriend, Phil, who she already did freakily-adult things with like buy a house.
The ceremony was outdoors at the University Club of the University of California Irvine. There were little trellises and gazebos everywhere, Diana was possibly the most beautiful bride in history (oh, um, except for my best friend, Tracey, of course . . . oh, and my sister . . . any other loved ones I’m forgetting?), and her dad was about the cutest dad ever (I can say that since mine doesn’t read my blog):
All of my pictures of the ceremony itself have various members of Diana’s family blocking her and Phil because they were all so excited to take pictures of their own and kept popping out of their seats, but here’s a shot of them walking away as man and wife with Diana grabbing Phil’s butt:
And here’s a closeup of the lady in the background running to get out of their way that cracks me up:
Here’s Kamran and Diana inside the University Club library, and neither of them is drunk at this point, despite Kamran’s too-relaxed eyes:
When we got bored of making fun of Diana’s other guests and just wanted to get at our plated dinners, we went outside to take advantage of our dress-up clothes:
And then we made nice with a table full of strangers–one of whom, to my delight, took photos of her food to post on Facebook–while eating juicy steaks, sipping huge Long Island Iced Teas in honor of the land we’d left behind, and watching this video slideshow of the most embarrassing photos from Diana’s giant-glasses phase. As we left, we made a stop at the cookie bar and loaded up a sack for our drive back to Laguna.
But not before snapping a photo of this photo display of themselves in the lobby of the University Club, because I swear that picture on the top right looks like underwear.
I’m right, right?
19 Comments
Where is the photo of the cookie bar???
Listen, I’m sorry, but we were trying to grab as many cookies as possible and get out without being seen, so I couldn’t take time to photograph the thing like I wasn’t going to be ravaging it in a second.
But here’s a pretty picture from Diana’s Facebook page that I’m sharing without any permission whatsoever!
Yeah, if you’re going to rave about the reason you didn’t go to my wedding, at least put up pictures of delicious food … :P
All you had to offer your guests was EDIBLE GLASSES, I heard.
Oh, and an omelet bar.
Oh, and BBQ.
All right, I made a big mistake.
I thought it WAS underwear before I finished reading you post!
YES! BFFs!
Strange thing to put in your engagement photo display, but hey, I’m not judging.
It seriously took me a good 30-second stare to figure out it wasn’t a nice photo of a pair of panties. So yeah, you’re right. And art is weird.
Should we get together and start a panty-photography business?
You can be the model.
Yup, underwear. Which goes along with the freakily-adult things I thought you were going to say they did.
See, I was right about you being risque.
I second on the underwear. I was all WTF? for a second there.
Go to Italian Weddings, and you will never be without a huge cookie table.
The PROBLEM is that Italians aren’t sugar-fiendish enough for me. Like, I see something like this and want to push my eyes out with giant sporks inserted through my ears.
However, the fact that this is the first Google Images result for “Italian cookies” is not lost on me.
I need my icing.
Your pov when looking at pictures always surprises me. You notice odd things in backgrounds and visualize panties in a (what they probably thought was elegant) lily still life. So funny! :) Yes, it does look like that, but my “give everybody the benefit of the doubt” brain editor would never have admitted it. :)
I imagine that somewhere in the back of my mind, panties are very elegant and should naturally be a part of any wedding.
Which is maybe a good reason not to invite me to yours.
I take no offense. She is a MUCH prettier bride than I was.
Without offending Diana, I just want to say, “Yeah, RIGHT.”
That’s right. I’m posting pictures of you without your permission.
You post a picture of me taken from THAT side and expect me to feel pretty? How little you know me.
But thanks, baby.
You were a GORGEOUS bride.
I hope I look like anything other than a STRESSED-OUT, PANICKED bride.
Damn. I knew we shoulda gone with the cookies.
We’re having a “dessert table,” on which there will be:
Wedding cake
Cupcakes (with homemade buttercream frosting made with love by my own two paws)
Pies (lots of pies)
Rock candy
But now I’m kind of regretting that we don’t have, like, goody sacks for people to load up and take home. Maybe we could have takeout boxes. They’re not as cute, but they hold WAY more food, and that’s what people REALLY care about, right?