The Hotel Part One

The irony about writing an incredibly (too) long catch-up blog about a wedding that happened over a month ago, is that several other events happen within the month that warrant talking about. To quote the horrid song made-famous by Aerosmith featured in Rock Band, “the train kept a rollin’.” I could bore you with the insidious details of a very hectic month, but I won’t. Maybe after you all learn about my wedding and the wily love-making that occurred on my honeymoon, I could write another forty page blog about the last two weeks of July. It would start, “I woke up in the morning and went to work. Work was really exciting! I was able to find a cheaper packaging product than I found the day before. Go Google!” Look forward to it. I’ll title it Marriage 2: Real Life.

Where were we? I believe we last saw me as I walked through The Hotel’s doors around 3:12 on my wedding day. Let’s carry on…

Partly because of the fact I spent the hour before it became 3:12 rushing around like a mad man, eating spaghetti, and forgetting my tie, partly because of my acute obesity, and partly because of nerves, I could not stop sweating once I got to the hotel. I looked good in the suit, damn good, but I wouldn’t look good if I continued to create my own personal humidity chamber. When I arrived at Jeff’s room everyone immediately commented on my perpetual sweating problem. They were either complete jerks or worried I had some sort of glandular problem because they kept probing and probing. Eventually I found some sort of towel that became my designated sweat towel for the night. I stood there as the suit I wore became a microwave me and wiped my balding head dry every three minutes or so. It’s a good thing I was about to get married, because Kelsey’s love got grandfathered in when I still had hair and pretended to care about my appearance. I’m now free to gain nine hundred pounds and bald away. You all thought my forehead shined before?

As is custom, we men tried to put our ties on, did a poor job of it, and eventually had my dad do it. We made fun of each other. We made fun of me. We drank beer. I don’t even like beer, but I drank beer. It was lime flavored. Lime flavored Skittles are my favorite. I should have had pre-marriage Skittles but I did not. The day of the wedding, this is how my brain worked. Annoying yes?

At some point our photographer, Stephen walked in. He handed me a small reddish-pink book Kelsey had bought me two weeks prior. I don’t think either of us knew what to do, but he just said, “Um, here, I was supposed to give you this.” I took the book and all the smart asses sitting about the room said, “Oooh story time!” They then backed me into the corner, and with tongue firmly in cheek, I started to read I Like You by Sandol Stoddard. Looking back on this day, my second favorite moment will be the reading of this book.

When Kelsey gave me the book a week before, we read it together on the couch. We liked it, but in her opinion I didn’t like it enough. She wanted to give it to me at the perfect time—the perfect moment that I’d remember forever. With the chaos of the day now behind me, standing in the middle of my closest friends reading a book they feigned interest in, didn’t seem perfect. It didn’t start perfect. It became perfect.

The book, whose text can be found here, describes why people like whom they like. Essentially, we like people who see the same bits of absurdity in reality that we do. Now, as I showed the room the pictures and read the book, we all made fun of it. Then we got to the reason Kelsey bought the book. The book said, and I read:

On the 4th of July I like you because it's the 4th of July
On the fifth of July, I like you too
If you and I had some drums and some horns and some horses
If we had some hats and some flags and some fire engines
We could be a HOLIDAY
We could be a CELEBRATION
We could be a WHOLE PARADE
See what I mean?
Even if it was the 999th of July
Even if it was August
Even if it was way down at the bottom of November
Even if it was no place particular in January
I would go on choosing you
And you would go on choosing me
Over and over again
That's how it would happen every time
I don't know why
I guess I don't know why I really like you
Why do I like you
I guess I just like you
I guess I just like you because I like you.

Around “fifth” on the second line I started to cry. She liked me. I liked her. I looked up and at least three others cried too. I won’t mention their names. In a moment you can’t fake, each guy there showed me why they were there.

I closed the book. We men looked around the room and made the awkward, “What? We men we no cry,” laugh, pretended it never happened, and went on making fun of each other. At this time Stephen said, “by the way, I was supposed to take you downstairs right away.” Thanks, Stephen. I left the groomsmen. It was now time for me to see my bride. This would be the first time I would see her in her dress. We took the elevator down and my stomach started to tighten. I wouldn’t say I felt like death, because death probably feels much worse. But in a way my life flashed before my eyes. Every girl I once crushed on, every kiss that never happened, every fleeting vagina were no more--they didn’t matter. The nerves started to bleed into anticipation. What would she look like? What would the woman I spent the last eight years courting look like in The Dress?

Stephen and I walked outside, and he told me stop. Kelsey stood around the corner, out of sight. The two moms stood on the stairs waiting to see the first look. It’s strange because the world felt calm for a minute. My heart pounded, my stomach lightened, and I thought…

… of the time Kelsey broke her thumb her senior season in softball and how cute she looked in her cast. I thought of the time I got my wisdom teeth taken out and Kelsey brought me over pureed spaghetti. I thought of the time I first kissed her by asking her, “Um Kelsey, could I kiss you?” I thought about her first night in college, when her computer got a virus and her lamp crashed to the floor, and she called me to help fight dorm monsters. I thought about the first engagement. I thought about the time we drove by high school kids who had got in a car accident and she yelled out the window at them, “Learn how to drive.” I thought about the times we went to California. I thought…

Then Stephen interrupted. He told me to take two steps forward. I complied. I then saw Kelsey. I thought…

…Wow.

The strange, nervous what-ifs washed away. It’s as if they were never there. If ever I was sure about anything, it was that the woman standing before me was to be mine, now and forever.