After the ceremony, the rest of our wedding day was a total blur. Were we really there? Did we experience the following four hours? I don’t actually believe it. It all seems like a complete dream. I now fully understand what every bride before me was talking about.
But before we could get to the fun part—the party!—first, there were copious family portraits, starting with the (small and cozy) Luna family:
The (extended) Housholder clan (my mom’s side):
The VVs, all 500 of them:
The kidlets, Jack and Kiva:
Of course, once family photos were over, we spent a good portion of the dinner hour(s) on Muir Beach taking our portraits, so when we arrived back at the inn, most people were already done eating and onto drinking.
Dad and his drinking buddies, Frank and Jim
Scott with his our(!) sister-in-law, Vanessa
Me with our dashing ushers, Ryan and Anthony
My editor, Matt, and his gal pal, Katy
New friends (Harriot and Bill) mingling with old (Jana, who I’ve known since I was 2, and her fiance Matt)
Catching up with two of my childhood besties, U.S. diplomat-in-Tokyo Tracy and fashion-designer-turned-teacher Mary Lambeth
We sat briefly and wolfed down some bangers and mash and who knows what other goodness (I can’t even tell you what we had for dinner that night), before resuming the mingling.
The toasts were probably my favorite part of the entire night—even though I had been somewhat worried no one was going to get up and say anything. Lemon had already done her duty with the whole ceremony thing, and neither of our dads are exactly comfortable in the spotlight.
But Scott’s brother Jim got up to kick off the toasts and wowed us all with a zinger: After lavishing us with compliments about what great people we are, blah blah blah, he put us to the test of how well we really knew each other.
I’m mighty skeptical of what’s coming next…
First, he had us each remove our shoes—this is when it was made evident that I ditched the heels for my Haviana’s—trade one with another and then answer a series of questions by holding up the shoe of the appropriate owner. He asked us things like who’s the best cook (SVV, hands down), who’s the biggest klutz (this girl) and who does all the cleaning (the both of us).
Apparently, we were too honest—or rather, a match made in heaven; yes, let’s go with that one—as we answered them all the same.
Then, my sister gave a witty (perhaps slightly tipsy) ode herself…
…followed by my always loquacious cousin John, who was the first to meet SVV five long years ago when we spent our first Christmas together with John in his Vienna bachelor’s pad.
Scott and my forever lovely mother-in-law Joan also both said some very kind words. (I remained silent, as public speaking—even in front of 85 of our closest friends at my own wedding—gives me hives.)
It was then time to cut the (cup)cake(s)—which we served with old-fashioned bottles of Strauss milk in champagne buckets of ice, alongside the (Ghirardelli) hot chocolate and coffee bars—and we were not the only ones excited about this. As I consider myself a cupcake connoisseur—this site would more accurately be named “Camels & Cupcakes” these days, or simply just “Camel Cupcakes” as my blog friend Orion calls it—I was happy to hear a whole lot of “these are the best darn cupcakes I’ve ever put in my mouth!”
We had our first dance to one of my favorite songs, “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” by Lady Antebellum (as selected by my mom!)…
…then danced with our parents. (I’m pretty sure my dad starting singing “Louie, Louie” at that point, which is why I’m cracking up in all our photos together.) After that, there actually wasn’t a whole lot of dancing, as many people took the early shuttle back to the city (we arranged one shuttle coming and two going so people didn’t have to drive the windy way after drinking), but that was A-OK with us. I preferred hanging out and finally getting to talk to people to busting a rug. Besides, our guests made good use of the photobooth, the pub area and the Snug Room, which we were hoping they’d do.
I was so incredibly sober that night after managing just one glass of champagne in a seven-hour period that I drove us through the snaking roads of Muir Woods to Sausalito for the night, where our generous friends bought us a night at Inn Above Tide as a wedding gift. Though literally, we were in and out in under nine hours and back to the Pelican Inn for a hearty English brunch (and darts—check out Jack in its suave suit Joan made him) with the family and wedding party early the next morning.
We did, however, pause long enough to admire our balcony view in Sausalito—finally, a sunny day in the Bay Area after so many weeks of fog and cold—and, of course, fist bump (again) to pulling it all off.
**All wedding photos by the incomparable Barbara Ries, who is off shooting Chelsea Clinton’s wedding this weekend!