Hello! Today is my birthday. I proudly wrote last year of having removed my birthday info from Facebook. But apparently this year I got a taste of that sweet nectar of “long-forgotten friends’ barrage of well-wishes” after we went wide with our wedding. So for this birthday, I went loud & proud with it, and allowed the disembodied voice of Mark Zuckerberg (as it were) to announce to the world that on this day in history, I screamed down my poor mother’s birth canal — a leisurely 2 weeks after I was scheduled to — in vertex position!
I have confirmed with my mother this morning, when she sweetly called me at the very hour and minute that I showed my face in the delivery room, that she didn’t use an epidural and she strongly suggests I not use one either. Yes, I am now at an age where I want to know my mother’s advice on delivery room analgesic options. You may infer from that tidbit my true age! I will, in tandem, promulgate ever more insistently my protean “Hollywood age.” (Note: My somewhat scientific study of blind items and back-alley celebrity gossip tells me that “Hollywood age” is usually “actual age” minus: about 0 years in your teens; 3 years in your 20s, 5 years in your 30s … and then the graph goes wild in your 40s and beyond. I think some people start to fudge by a figure of nearly a decade at that point!)
Thank you all for checking out my latest entry on my wedding! I loved my wedding. As we all know, the key to comedy is surprise, so I’m sorry I’ve failed on that front: I couldn’t be more predictable and quotidian on my feelings about my new husband and my still-fresh connubial bliss. I’m loving marriage. My husband is the best; he gave me a much-better last name (with all deference and respect that’s due to Pu). But the act of going through a wedding and forming a marriage has allowed the wonderful power of our friends’ and families’ strength, wisdom and support to beam back at us a thousandfold. We feel it, we love it and we are forever grateful for it.
I’m happy to report that newlywed life is exactly like a Cialis commercial. Which is to say: It’s filled with treacly, cliched and probably downright disgusting moments. The American Medical Association has declared that observing Deepak & me in the first 2 weeks of our marriage is officially the world’s most powerful emetic. In these moments — which I’m sorry if you’ve had to witness / you’re welcome for providing them if you accidentally ingested poison — my new spouse and I lock eyes while metaphorical birds circle our heads in exquisite, Busby Berkeley-like formation. Simultaneously, an EKG-like telepathic jolt leaps between our two hearts, carrying that eternal, literal/metaphorical/metaphysical query: “My love, my partner, my entire galaxy … are you down to clown?”
Ernie way — in an effort to counteract the mawkishness swell: Here is a selection of outtakes from our wedding photos (mostly candids and user-submitted by our guests — thanks, everyone!). These are the pictures that most made me laugh. They probably won’t be going in the official album, but I got a lot of enjoyment and narrative from them!
More to come!