Fizzy Follies: Adventures in Matrimony

Hello my darlings!

So, you know how you go out and do normal things and then come home? Like, there you go to the grocery store and come home and it’s just a calm, casual thing?

I don’t get those.

If you’ve read this blog or follow me anywhere online you’ve seen that things in Summerville are…strange at best.

When I go to the grocery store I end up coming home to tell my no longer shocked by these things husband things like, “So, there was this truck with a donkey in the front seat…” and hubs just says, “I wonder if it was the same donkey from last week. Did you buy wine?”

This magnetized pull I have to the kooky stems into every part of my life.

Including our wedding day.

Nearly ten years ago, my fella and I said, “I DO!” in front of *insert some kind of romantic platitude*.

But, in typical Fizzy fashion, things did have their snags.

I was a very zen bride. I hadn’t grown up plotting my wedding or fantasizing about dresses or any of that. All I knew is that I wanted to have Jelly Bellies on every table and somewhere to shimmy with my people after stuffing our faces with buffet food.

The day before our wedding, it was 80 degrees and sunshiney. It was lovely.

The day of our wedding, it was freezing cold and raining.

And I’m not kidding about it being freezing. It was like a 50 degree temperature drop in 8 hours.

Only a problem if you were having an outdoor wedding, really.

Which we totally were having.

It was so fucking cold, you guys.

We had this giant white circus tent sized thing that we were housed in next to a field, and it was full of 150 of our closest popsicles. They used to be our friends, but then they froze to death and that is very unfortunate.

Okay, so everyone lived. BUT. True story, one woman did end up in the hospital later with hypothermia.

Honestly, cold aside, we had an awesome little wedding. It was happy and twirly and a great day.

Sure, I stumbled into a mole-hole when I was walking myself down the aisle. I recovered well, I think, but it seems quite appropriate that my saunter into married life began with 150 giggling in my general direction.

Then there was the part where the minister asked if anyone objected to our union and my head involuntarily whipped around to face my soon to be in-laws and I may have whispered, “I dare you...”

And yeah, when I threw my bouquet, I hadn’t noticed there was a giant pin sticking out of it and totally impaled the poor gal who caught it.

And well, there was the moment I finally had a chance to sit down and talk to my mom and someone tapped my shoulder so I did that no turning around, finger shhhhh thing.

Turned out it was my brand new father-in-law asking for a dance.

I was so off kilter from embarrassment that I unleashed a torrent of verbal incontinence upon him and he stopped dancing before the song was over.

But my absolute favorite wedding day gem came when it was time to cut the cake.

Hubs and I had promised early on that we wouldn’t do the smashy cake in the face thing. Not that isn’t a hoot, but he’s a wee bit more low-key than I am so we agreed to do a nice, normal mutual cake nibble.

We cut our cake, we smooched, and all was adorable.

Until he reached over to feed me a bite.

And the cake went right the fuck down the front of my dress.

I did this sharp intake of air which happened at the exact wrong time because it caused the cake to fall all the way through the top of my corset-y dress and it landed right by my belly button. Squealing and flailing occurred.


Yes, that is me just as the cake hit the point of no return.

It. Was. So. COLD.

And sticky.

And there was no possible way for me to get to it.

And so, in front of those 150 popsicle people, my brand new husband reached his entire arm down the front of my dress and scraped cake off my stomach.


Actual picture of him with his arm down my dress. Notice my cousin/DJ behind us pretending there is something really interesting on the ground…

So, it was a typically spastic day, but it was a good one. I have lots of great memories and I love being able to laugh about them with a fella who was willing to go shoulder deep in front of his entire family to save my dress from cake.

That’s love, baby.

Seriously. Look how cute we were.



I hope you all are having super lovely weeks!

Until next time,

Peace, Love, and I DO!



  1. LOVE it! Your posts always crack me up. I so wanted something funny to happen or go wrong on my wedding day. I guess you just can’t plan these things, or make this stuff up! 🙂

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