Last weekend, September 27th-30th, Amanda and I went back to Pennsylvania (Harrisburg) for the wedding of our good pal Chris Owens and his beautiful bride Allison Hill. I was one of the groomsmen, and Greg Stakor was the best man. The morning of the wedding, the ladies got their hair done. All morning. Us men used the time to eat cinnamon rolls, watch some Borat, and finally spent a full twenty minutes getting dressed.
On the way to the church, however, we realized our fuel level was dangerously low:
And we began to worry about our ability to deliver the groom on time:
But we arrived on time (albeit with an empty tank). The ceremony went off without a hitch, and it really was beautiful. I cried most of the time, because I’m like that. Chris and Allison left the church to a shower of bubbles, and were promptly locked out when they tried to reenter through a side door.
Chris and Allison had invited my family and Amanda’s family to the wedding, so it was great to be able to see them again.
After the ceremony the bridal party rode in a stretch SUV to a garden to take pictures. The limo was sweet, complete with an intimidating-looking sunglass-donning driver. Greg and I ended up in the back seat however, which was several feet higher than the rest of the interior. We had to slouch down and spread eagle to fit our long-legged selves.
At the reception, Chris carried his new bride into the hall when they were announced. This was followed by Greg’s toast, then a family-style dinner. Awesome idea!
Then came the most important part of the day: the dancing.
Don’t forget who got dancing started in the first place: the infamous Table 9.
Amanda and I spent Sunday morning with our families, then started our long trek back to California at 2. We had two layovers scheduled in Atlanta and Salt Lake City. The flight from Atlanta was delayed about an hour, because the plane had just come from Rome and needed a lot of cleaning or what-not. So we deplaned in Salt Lake City three minutes after our next flight was scheduled to take off. They told us they were holding the connecting planes, but when we got to the next terminal, they said, ‘Oh, not this plane. It left fifteen minutes ago.’ So we had to stay at a Hilton overnight in Salt Lake City. We got the next flight to Orange County, at 8:30 Monday morning. We sure enjoyed having to get up early for another flight after traveling all day Sunday!
And for everyone who asked over the weekend whether I had grown more: Yes I have. I’m now 6’5″. Let’s hope that’s the end of any more growing nonsense.