Just a Better Way to Live


So it's all official. Murray and I are back and we're figuring out the married life groove, and now we're all ready to say really insensitive things to single people like, "You should get married. It's just a better way to live." What are some insensitive things you've heard over the years? Murray and I need a few ideas.

Thanks again to Nemesis and Daltongirl for blogging about my special day. I'll take my turn at the reception, but first I wanted to post a few pictures that I thought people might like as well as our slide show that Murray kindly uploaded to YouTube for all of us. Anyway, I have to get this wedding stuff over as soon as possible lest people complain that I've turned into an I'm-obsessed-with-my-own-wedding blog. But really, with a day so perfect as our wedding day, I must admit that I am obsessed with my own wedding right now.

Without further ado, the video and some pictures!



(You'll forgive that the music cuts out at the end. We wanted to cut out our "real names" that appeared in the last slide.


All of the wedding party who loved us enough to stick around for photos after the ceremony.



I just wanted to share this picture because it looks like my grandpa is blind, which made me laugh.



Me and Murray and the best man (brother Steve) and maid of honor (Switchback)


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Showing that we know how to have fun always.



Evidence that we got married in a 70s church movie.


A better way to live.

The last of the guest posts . . . sniff

I'm not sure that anything I write here will be able to top what Daltongirl just did, but I'll do my best.

First off, I need to say that she gave me way too much credit. She also did not mention the part where I had sort of a hairball fit in the kitchen corner around 4:30pm, with the hissing and spitting. I was freaking out because I wasn't sure where to begin, and not all of the ingredients were there, and people were looking at me but I HAD NO ANSWERS!!!! But then people started arriving with the missing items and Ootsie Boodle got there (which is when the choirs of angels started singing) and it all started making more sense.

Everyone worked hard enough for 4 people. Ambrosia and Daltongirl and Jenny were wonderful, as was Cicada's family, and then all these other people turned up and started doing whatever was needed. Which was amazing. I heart Cicada's family and friends.

One of my favorite moments was when Ambrosia, Daltongirl, Jenny, and I got the giggles over some stupid thing, but then I choked on a grape, which turned the giggles into guffaws, and then Jenny got up all alarmed and had to do the doubled-over scissor-legged gripping-countertops stagger that is the I'm Going to Wet My Pants dance as she went out the back door looking for a bathroom or janitor's bucket. Then the entire Springville Museum was treated to unholy sound usually reserved for a horse whose leg has just broken and will be shortly put down. But no, it was just us laughing. Or, possibly, just me who sounded like that.

Then the moment arrived to get the food out there and start the show. Everything came together beautifully. I overheard people who just could not even believe their luck as they approached the buffet table all laden with goodness. The dessert table was a work of art in itself, as one of Cicada's cousins kept it stocked with beautifully arranged platters of truffles and baklava and Ferraro Rocher and Almond Roca and Belgian-chocolate-dipped cookies and I don't even know what else because now I'm wiping drool off the keyboard just remembering it. As Daltongirl restocked one of the many bread baskets, a girl we'd sat with at the wedding breakfast noticed her and asked, all stunned, "You cater, too?" Daltongirl smiled nicely and said that Costco was the real caterer and we were just helping. But I loved how the girl was just so blown away by Daltongirl's many talents, because that's how I feel about her pretty much all the time.

The Springville Art Museum really was a great place to hold it. Its a lovely building, the museum staff was really helpful and friendly, there was plenty of room for everyone, the kitchen was huge. People got to walk around and admire the artwork and (I hope) refrained from smearing food on any of it. Cicada and Murray had a great jazzy CD playing over the speakers, and the wedding favors were Canadian chocolate bars with a special Murray & Cicada wrapper slipped on over them. They had darling little girls carrying baskets around and offering them to the guests. Which, hi, having little girls walk up and hand you chocolate is pretty much the only way to improve upon an already-amazing party.

Cicada and Murray cut the wedding cake and fed the pieces to each other nicely. My favorite bit, though, was when a small piece of Cicada's cake fell down the front of her dress. Later Daltongirl asked if she'd managed to get that out. Cicada said she hadn't bothered, and would just leave it for when Murray got hungry later.

We handed out tiny glass vials of bubbles and lined the front door of the museum, blowing bubbles to send off the bride and groom.

Near the end of the night, the photographer came in to the kitchen to get a few pictures and said that it's so much nicer to photograph a beautifully styled wedding. Cicada and Murray's was one of the nicest ones she'd done in a very long time. Darn straight it was. No clever camera angles to hide the basketball hoop here, thank you very much.

When it was time to clean up, there was still sooo much food left over, and the Cicada family pressed us all to take whatever we could carry. So I made off with two shopping bags of gourmet food items. Thinking back on how amazing it all was, I'm really kicking myself for not taking more.

And now back to your regularly scheduled blogger!

ps from Nemesis

And then I'm really done. Unless Cicada, in her newlywed haze, forgets to take me off as a contributor.

I forgot to mention Switchback and Dr. Rice. They were marvelous, wonderful people who did a ton of work, and I went to bed thinking happy cuddly thoughts about how much I like them. Also it was kind of fun to spend the evening introducing ourselves by our blog names, which made me feel as though I were at some kind of Superhero Convention. "You may know me as Switchback!" "Oh my gosh, you're Switchback!! And which one of you is Daltongirl?"

Need to send more props Daltonboy's way, too. Daltonboy, as you remember, took many many pictures all during the day, and is the reason we were able to include lovely pics with these posts. Daltongirl was a little worried that he might get in the photographer's way, and she didn't want them to be The Kind of People Who Make the Photographer's Job Hard. (Even though Cicada said he was absolutely fine and she was so glad he was there.) Daltongirl felt better during the reception when she overheard someone comment on how smart Murray and Cicada were to hire two wedding photographers.

So. It was a fabulous day, we would never have worked so hard for anyone but Cicada.

Editor's Intervention

Well, Murray and I are back! The honeymoon was great; I can't wait to blog about it. First, I'll see if Nemesis wants to post her side of the story about the reception before I write about the reception from my perspective.

Great job to Daltongirl and Nemesis, by the way, for keeping you all updated, and doing all my work for me while I was gone. The first thing Murray and I did upon landing on American soil was check the blog to see what these wonderful ladies had posted. However, it has come to my attention that a certain error must be addressed in Daltongirl's wonderful and mostly-accurate account of the reception. I received the following email from The Boy last night. Many apologies to him and to El Senor who less dramatically complained about being somewhat misrepresented. In my version of the reception, both of these brothers and every individual who helped out will be appropriately lauded.



I am being grievously misrepresented on your blog. There must be steps taken to rectify this libel which has befallen me.

For clarification: I was in no way, shape, or form responsible for the care of one Bean at any time during the day of nuptiality (I am aware of the insuitability of this particular suffixation, but it sounds ever so much superior to the drap and overrused "nuptials"), nor was I enrolled in the creation of fun and unique aprons to be worn by conscripted wait staff. Instead I was tasked with guiding Richie (tragically born without a sense of direction) around in the pursuit of fruit. And large pans. A task given us by our beloved Ootsie, and dashingly performed in our wedding tuxes.

This restitution may take place in the form of posting this email on your blog. Which is more than I ever willingly granted you to post on your blog when we were living together, as if my permission mattered anyhow.

-The Boy, Esq.

(I may add that all of the emails The Boy sent me on my mission were written in his same unique writing style, and I really wish he'd start a blog or something of his own.)

The Reception: a work of art worthy of a museum

You know those people who meet at BYU, but they're from two different parts of the country, so they get married in Utah and traverse the nation holding open houses and receptions in order to share their joy with as many friends and loved ones as possible?

Well, Cicada and Murray do not fall into that category. First of all, they didn't meet at BYU. They met after Murray stalked Cicada online. They are, in fact, from different countries, but that didn't stop them from holding only one reception; however, in honor of that alternative practice, we decided to wait a week to post the reception, so it would feel like they had two.

Anyway. After the temple ceremony and much photo taking, Nemesis and I hurried to Jenny's where we ate the entire contents of her refrigerator in order to shore ourselves up for the work ahead of us. Turns out we didn't really need to do that, but we didn't know this at the time. Then we headed out to the reception center, even the Springville Art Museum, also known as The Venue of Choice for Supercool People's Wedding Receptions.

Nemesis, as the Food Service and Preparation Chairperson, kept saying, "I really don't think we need to be there right at 4:00. I mean, it's not like we can put food out or anything. I don't think there will be much for us to do." I will shortly prove to you that all our preconceived ideas about this shindig were completely false. Except for the part about it being cool.

So we arrived, found the kitchen, and noticed that it was completely full of food. Nemesis, true to her name, took charge with a vengeance. Earlier, Ootsie Boodle had warned Nem that certain persons might be inclined to take over, and that she needed to be patient with that. Nem, with a straight face, said, "That's okay. I have a pretty mean left hook if anyone tries anything." I think the word must have gotten out, because no one bothered her.

Cicada had planned everything out marvelously, with the help of her excellent mother. There were pages of recipes (so we could throw salads and stuff together), pages of notes on what condiments went in what bowls, which platters would hold the fruits, vegetables, salmon, roast beef, etc., and everything organized in a most easy-to-carry-out way, what with the organizers themselves being involved elsewhere and not available for consultation for much of the time. It was truly amazing.

We started by donning our very own Cicada and Murray aprons, made for us by Dr. Rice, which was a delightful surprise. Dr. Rice came in, looking lovely but slightly harried, and said to Ootsie Boodle, "Well, we finished the aprons. And by 'we' I mean 'me.'"

Ootsie sympathetically patted Dr. Rice on the arm and said, "I know." Later I found out that The Boy and El Senor were supposed to be helping with that project. I guess they were busy playing with the Bean, whom they awakened early from his nap, to ensure that his parents would be driven crazy when he was overcome with tiredness halfway through the reception. A worthy cause, to be sure, but where did that leave Dr. Rice? Doing a huge job on her own with very little time, that's where.

Also, I can tell you that if my brother woke up my baby from his nap before my sister's wedding reception, there would have been words. None spoken in my hearing, however, which speaks very well of the Captains, I must say.

We didn't get a photo, but picture a white chef-type apron with this photo on the front. So cute.
People started showing up to help, and Nemesis was able to put everyone right to work, because she is amazing like that. I had a very fun time saying, "Ask Nemesis," and mostly minding my own business, except for when I had to tease Switchback to see what stuff she was made of. She came through brilliantly.

Here's what the kitchen looked like once most of the food was already out on the buffet tables. Switchback is either making off with a good deal of the dessert, or preparing to take it out to the serving tables. Hard to know which.

I think this was taken just after Nemesis came upon me eating up the baklava that she had set aside for Cicada and Murray to take home with them, since no one was feeding them during the reception. If I remember correctly, her words were, "What are you doing, you jerk? Those are Cicada's!" And then I felt slightly sheepish. I mean, how could I have known? There was food everywhere, and we had quickly developed the practice of eating whatever we wanted, since there was enough for about 12,000 guests, and as far as I know there were only about 350 in attendance. Also, there was no time to get a plate and sit down to eat, so we grazed. Anyway, after this disaster, we decided it might be a good idea to set aside the treats in a box, so that they weren't just sitting out there, unmarked, waiting to be eaten. Plus, who doesn't eat baklava when it's just sitting there? No one, that's who.

I won't burden you with all the details. Suffice it to say that there were French cheeses, artisan breads, I think I mentioned salmon, and every good thing. Here's the buffet table in most of its glory. Hard to get a good shot once people started thronging to it, but oh, it was lovely!

But let's talk about the highlights of the preparation. First, I must say that Cicada's family is made up of the most mellow people I have ever met in my life. Do not take this to mean that they don't get things done. They worked like crazy. But nothing stressed them out. For example, there was no salad dressing for the spinach, candied pecan, gorgonzola, craisin, and fresh pear salad. (Mmmmmmm!) Upon discovering this, I felt my blood pressure start to rise. It was mentioned to Ootsie Boodle. "Okay," she said calmly. "We'll just send someone out to get some." Like it was really that simple. This happened several times. At one point Jenny said, "Where were these people when I got married?" Because seriously, nothing fazed them. Not that anything went terribly wrong, but still. It was amazing and inspiring to watch.

Another example of restraint and patience. So we were searching everywhere for some stuff, and finally Ootsie asked El Senor if he knew where it was. He said, "Oh. It's out in my car. Did you want that brought in?" If it had been my kid, he would have seen much eye rolling and possibly have received a sarcastic reply. Ootsie just said, "Yes," and went on with her life. Nemesis and I may have exchanged glances, because that was too good an opportunity to miss for raking someone over the coals. Really.

The absolute best moment was when Ootsie Boodle realized that Certain Important Items had been left at The Condo, even the new home of the Terreno di Amores. And Cicada and Murray were conveniently at the condo, so she could just call them and ask them to bring said items when they came over to the museum. Only they didn't answer the phone. I came late to the conversation when Nemesis came over to me and whispered, "Afternoon Delight! Cicada and Murray aren't answering their phone!" Ootsie was standing there dialing and saying (calmly) "Oh, I'm sure they're just resting." I think her voice was slightly higher than usual, though. And then she (ever so calmly) started trying to recruit the brothers to just run over to the condo and grab the stuff. Understandably, every one of them refused. Ootsie Boodle graciously did not press them. Then she seized on this wonderful manwho, after hearing the details said, "Sure. I'm up for an awkward moment," and gallantly got in his car and ran the dreaded errand. Way to take one for the team, Viktor! Sadly, he had nothing to report upon his return, because Cicada and Murray showed up moments later. They must have just missed each other.

I'll leave you with a photo of the cake. Just one more example of how classy Cicada and Murray are.


And now Nemesis will provide you with the happy ending to our little story.