I have to say, I am glad that my wedding reception is over.
And hopefully, sooner than later, strangers would stop asking to see my ring. Or to see my wedding pictures. Or to ask how it is being married. Because, I'm not like most brides after they got married, blushing with happiness glowing through every pore of their skin.
I don't secretly wish that people would ask how it was, so I can tell every details of it and share my pictures, and show them my ring.
I am very territorial about my personal life.
But that was nothing, though... the most dreadful thing is (and somehow, I always get this more from people from back home) that they hope and pray that I would have babies soon. I saw a lot of people wished that on my dad's Facebook. That got me pissed.
To be clear, I do not hate kids. But, there's something unsettling about strangers deciding how soon I will have kids.
My wedding was nice. It could have been great, if I plan it just the way I want it to be. But it was a collaborative, joined, event between two big families in two different cultures (believe me when I said two different cultures, even though both families are Indonesian). So, I just have to humbly thank God that there was no blood bath.
And, again, don't get me wrong, marrying my, now, husband, was great.
The greatest part of the whole day was, of course, when I did my wedding vow and shared that moment with my family and closest dearest friends.
Until I unexpectedly cried.
I hate that crying part. I HATE crying in public. I have some pictures with my ugly crying face that might never see the light of day.
But saying my vow is the whole point of the day for me.
It is big. That promise binds the rest of my future and life. It will affect all of my decisions from now on. Because I promised to love, share and honor someone throughout everything, basically. Stick by him through thick and thin.
Even if he becomes fat (thick) and bald (thin) and grow the eleventh toe. Gross, but yep, if he cannot bend to put any kind of ointment on that growing toe, I will have to do it for him.
...
Let's hope that it won't ever happen.
But, if it does... then I'll be there with the ointment jar.
Uhm,... anyway... the rest of the day was fine.
The governor came. He and my dad apparently were buddies in high school. I was annoyed that my dad invited him and made such a big deal about it (security, RSVP, pictures... sigh). I have pictures of him much more than I care to see. A lot of them. Nothing against the governor, but I never want my wedding day to be a show-off arena for my dad. Oh,.. and he invited the ambassador of Argentine too, whom actually he doesn't know very well and only met for a couple of times.
Yeah, another big shot with whom I have to endure special photo session.
After the wedding people asked my husband (and me) if my dad is also a big shot because he knows 'people'. And I have set the record straight with brutal truth to whoever asked me: Nope, he's just a ordinary person with some acquaintances who apparently got nothing else to do on that day.
But, hey, if I continue all of my complaints, this post should be a book with chapters and footnotes.
So I will stop right here.
I am now married ,with a five diamond ring that is slightly loose. Because your fingers apparently are bigger over there then here. Keep that in mind, people.
And I am GLAD the wedding is done and over with. So I can continue with my life quietly, peacefully and privately.
Wilson, if you read this, my perfect day also include very less meaningless conversation, and less... very less... or maybe no people/social interaction.
Quiet cool summer day, soft bossa music, a hammock, long nap under the shades of the tree in my backyard.
Maybe I will do that this weekend.
Sigh... it's so nice to be back home.
