This just came out both really posed and really disoriented and sweaty, on account of the heat and the drinks, but we were so happy! And I think this picture captures that.
It was a great wedding, with just enough dancing to tear open all your old blisters, and because I ended up getting a ride with Seriy, an old friend of both Yura and me, I didn’t even have to brave the city by myself at 2 a.m.
I was glad to note that few people blubbered. I kind of wanted to. I’m one of those people who always cries at weddings; I cried at my godfather’s, cried at my friends’ wedding in Virgina, and I only just held back the tears for this one, because Tanya’s friends, whom I was seated with, would have thought that was weird (and probably decided I was drunk or something).
I drank vodka with the boys because I had too much champagne in the last few days, and you know, it’s nice to be able to drink it in mixed company without anyone cracking any “alcoholic” jokes (because it’s as if everyone who drinks vodka drinks it to get drunk, which can’t be farther from the truth). It’s also nice to have pickles on hand, because vodka is a drink you take with food (many people don’t realize that). I’m pretty sure that a good time was had by most, there were fire-works and no weirdness, and a couple of men even break-danced in their suits.
I really hope that Yura & Tanya will live together for many decades, with harmony and love and lots of funny pictures (Yura & Tanya are king and queen of funny pictures, as evidenced by Yura’s hard drive). It’s rare that you come across genuinely happy couples, even at our age, and these two have it made. Совет да любовь.
And the one thing that was great about this occasion, aside from the fact that this commitment was being celebrated in front of everybody, was how it was not cloying or artificial. There was no BS about it being “the happiest day” of anyone’s life. The entire thing wasn’t in any way Disneyfied. The toasts were sincere – both practical and good-natured. There was lots of suggestive humour without anyone being sleazy. A relative from Brussels delivered a soliloquy in French. The bouquet fell apart whilst in the process of being thrown, and every unmarried girl, including me, ended up with a white rose.
Also, on a more materialistic weasel-type note – Tanya had a beige dress accented by pearls. That was, in one word, sweet. I must take note. For future, ah, reference.