A chant, a couple of rings, a view and some vows

We did it! We actually went through with the wedding and are no longer living in sin. Above is the most fabulous cake made by the wonderful Melissa C. It's a "red velvet" chocolate cake covered in a sugary outer layer of fondant and decorated with chocolate flowers and vines. The Honey and I chowed down on it during our mini-honeymoon.

Below is a pre-wedding photo and I think we both look sufficiently terrified. Observe my very forced smile and the look of sheer dread on The Honey's face. I was a stress-case on the morning of The Big Day and you can see the maniacal glint in my eyes. And yes, he did in fact wear jeans. He looked quite dashing and hipster-esque, I must say.

The weather forecast claimed that the skies would be cloudy with a good chance of rain. But the sun shone as we walked into the venue and I was told later that a little girl saw me and exclaimed "Look! A princess!" It seemed like an auspicious sign. Everyone arrived on time, and the room overlooking the city was as glorious as I'd remembered it. It was a very small gathering of my parents, two brothers and his parents. We milled about, taking pictures and admiring the room and view.

The Buddhist reverend took a few moments to set up something like an altar with a bell, a book (of koans?), and a gilded fan. He wore a black robe and over it he sported an embroidered smock. On his feet he had on the traditional Japanese two-pronged socks and wooden sandals. He was tall and kindly looking, with a surprising amount of hair. Somehow, I was expecting him to be bald.

"Shall we begin?" he said. Nervous, we took our places: the bride and groom in front of the reverend and the small wedding party lined up behind us, all standing. The 10-minute ceremony itself is a blur to me now. I do, however, distinctly remember the reverend suddenly turning his back on us and beginning to chant. It was a sonorous, authentically buddhist-sounding chant punctuated by the tinkling bell that he struck every so often.

I think he translated the chant to us - there was a reference to obeisance. Perhaps an aknowledgment to loyalty and faithfulness. I was just so relieved that he finally turned around, I wasn't following the program as closely as I should have been. And then the rings were exchanged, we kissed awkwardly and the reverend presented us as husband and wife. I was in a daze and vaguely remember a flurry of picture-taking, going to the restaurant, raising a flute of champagne.

As we drove out to the Olympic Peninsula for our mini-honeymoon, I felt myself de-compressing. Back in my ratty jeans and old t-shirt, I may not have looked like a princess, but I felt like a million bucks. I was happy to be with my new husband and now I'm looking forward to enjoying my days instead of worrying about wedding details.

I know that we are extraordinarily lucky. I try my best not to take this life for granted and what can I say that hasn't been said by every deliriously exhausted and contented newlywed? The Buddhist reverend advised us that life is suffering. "But," he said, "you must persevere and you must not be afraid to be happy." With that, he waved his gilded fan and we were on our way to begin our new life together.