The story of the Blond Duck's wedding

Growing up, I was never the kind of girl who dreamed of getting married.


In fact, I didn't really get weddings. I'd only been to one or two, and I didn't like them much. People cried, no one would let me dance spastically around the floor and the food was terrible. Plus, I didn't know anyone and I wasn't the center of attention.




Really, I only dreamed of one thing.


Of course, I'd always thought of my husband would be like. But I never pondered about his hair color or name. I never dreamed of what tux he would look good in and what his face would look like when the church doors opened. My curiosity centered around when and where I would meet him. That was about it. I saw marriage as being legally bound to my best friend. Being a practical romantic, I never dreamed of being swept off my feet or knowing at first sight. I had a list of requirements and knew exactly what I wanted. I just hadn't found it yet.

This picture was used on our invitations. They were far from traditional.

Then one grey day at a Jason's Deli by Baylor University, I found it. I was instantly curious, extremely fascinated.


The feeling was mutual.




I'm pretty sure, anyway. I mean, not much the poor sap can do now, right?


Moving on.


Being a non-wedding kind of girl, wedding planning was more of a chore than a joy. If my mother and sister hadn't done most of the work, I'd still be sitting on the carpet dumbfounded with an engagement ring on one hand and the other stuck in my nose.




I gave my poor Mom and sister hell.


First, I demanded apple pie instead of cake. I didn't want cake. I didn't like cake. No cake. Forget traditions--I was not having a cake.




I had a cake. And tiered apple pies.


Next, I refused to deal with bridesmaids dresses. I told them to pick out a sundress. My mom told me to pick three colors.



My sister's the one in green.


For six long months, I snarled and snapped every time someone mentioned the word wedding. I ranted about trends that had nothing to do with love, howled when I received a million silver platters instead of practical sheets and towels as gifts and staunchly refused anything but a traditional bridal shower. I wasn't having a lingerie party, a bachelorette party, an engagement party or a look at me party. For something that was all about me, I tried to make it as un-about me as possible.



But despite all that, my wedding was magical. And perfect.





We got married in Austin at the County Line on the Lake. That's right--it's a barbecue restaurant.




It was also a traditional spot for Pike family special family traditions. The Line, as we called it, was reserved for straight A report cards, special birthdays and major accomplishments. And the lake, or Colorado River, was also ingrained in our family. I'd been riding in my dad's boat on that lake since I was old enough to walk, and water skiing since 8. The lake was in my blood and part of my soul.



Before the ceremony, Ben thought heavily about the commitment he was going to make...




While I thought heavily about the apple pies.



We were married by a justice of the peace at high noon on May 27, 2006. As we walked down the aisle, my father teased me about water moccasins...





Little did he know one would show up later, much to the delight of Ben's city-slicker friends. Trust me, it's there. Look for it.





By 12:30 p.m., the wedding was over and the reception had begun.




It was time for ribs!



And dancing on the patio...





Starting new fashion trends....




And annoying neighbors by throwing bouquets to their 15-year-old daughters even though they specifically asked you not to. Of course, I was just as horrified as he was.



I have no idea.



A little after three, we decided the reception had come to an end. Our guests reinforced this by throwing white bio-degradable rice at us.




Giddy and breathless, we drove away to my parent's a few miles down the road for a post-reception celebration. We spent the afternoon swimming, dining with friends and visiting with family.


The next day, after spending the night in a hotel, we headed to my parent's for a special neighborhood reception that included a tricked out golf cart, lots of rice and a whole lot of fun...




But that, dear Invisible Friends, is another story.



Oh, and why did I get married at 21, two weeks after my college graduation and a week after buying my first house and moving to a city three hours away?

Because I wanted to.

For more wedding tales, visit Eli's Lids. She's linked up dozens of fun wedding post from romantic bloggers.


Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! Tommorow we have a new Twirl and Thursday.... Ben's famous hand-made-sauce-dripping-Mini Meat balls! And Friday, we have the Babies' birthday and the Rubber Chicken's search for his long lost date. Stay tuned!