Nice way to spend a Saturday night

Last weekend, my cousin Cristina got married. It was an awesome wedding--very sweet, happy, and full of family.

The wedding took place in Dana Point, and was officiated by a very funny priest, who described the ceremony as "awesome." He really stressed the importance of love and communication.

This became evident a little ways into the ceremony when he asked Cristina and Brad to join their right hands together. The couple, facing each other, reached out and locked their hands in a straight line--his right, her left. 

"Your RIGHT hands," the priest reiterated. They dropped hands, and tried again, grabbing the hands straight across again, but closest to the congregation--this time, his left and her right hands.

The priest reminded them "Right hands!" one last time, and as everybody laughed, the realized their mistake, and crossed their hand overs, finally holding their right hands together. It was a sweet and funny moment, which the priest concluded by reminding the couple, "See, I told you communication is an important skill!"

The cantor was also very good--she had a powerful voice. But not all of us understand her words correctly--as she was belting out "Hosana," my niece Gabi whispered, "I thought she was saying 'Lasagna.'" Mark whispered back, "I thought she was saying 'Osama'," and I realized maybe these two need a little more time in church.

The reception was about 15 minutes south, in San Clemente. We stood on the patio, drinking wine, watching the sun set over the beach 50 yards away. It was gorgeous.

I took a nice shot of my dad and future sister-in-law, Shanda. This pic cracked me up because it looks like a giant fire ball is about to consume my dad.

 

There was an indoor hall attached to the courtyard, and my nephew Grant was guarding the door. I asked him why.

"They're giving stuff away!" he shouted, all excited. 

"What kind of stuff?" I asked, and he answered, "Food!" 

Just then, a server appeared with a try of appetizers, and I laughed. Of course Grant was waiting for food, that kid's always hungry!

Later on, he enlisted his cousin Lauren to help him stake out the servers. Grant was posted at one doorway, Lauren at the other, so no servers could pass them by. But even that wasn't close enough--I walked by a little later, and they had staked out the kitchen door! 

I was about to tell them the servers would be around again with more food, when suddenly, the kitchen door opened. A waiter appeared, handing Lauren and Grant some food and napkins, then immediately shut the door again. Apparently, their plan worked! The kids ran off, laughing happily, shoving baby beef Wellington and crab cakes into their mouths.

Dinner was served in a big, round casino, which confused the kids--they were looking around for slot machines. There weren't any, but we hit the jackpot anyway--amazing food in a beautiful room.

I was just happy to sit at the adult's table this time. As my snotty niece Hannah pointed out, it wasn't that my behavior improved so much as the fact there were no kid's tables this time, but I didn't care. I got to sit with my parents, my cousin Michael, and his family. There were no candy favors on the table this time, but the kids immediately went to work trying to beat open some whole almonds with their silverware. Michael and my dad chided them, pointing out that these almonds were tough, and required the blunt end of the butter knives. Pretty soon, my whole table was pounding almonds with very nice silverware, and I wondered how I got the bad behavior rap in the family!

Cristina and her groom Brad came by to say hi. Brad's very tall--6' 7"--which the kids loved. They goaded their uncle, who's a good foot shorter, into taking a picture with the groom, and proved that no matter what, my brother will always be Little Brad.

Mark had a blast. He tried to push me on to the dance floor when the DJ called for all the single ladies, but I refused. (I just giggled, thinking of the hilarious scene in "Sex and the City," when the bridal bouquet was tossed and landed on the floor next to all the SATC ladies, who just shrugged and went off for Cosmos.)

And though I was reluctant, Mark was not. He joined the much-bigger single men on the floor for the garter toss, even though he had no chance of catching that thing (and would have been mortified if he had caught it.)

Mark also wanted to take lots of pictures. When the cake cutting started, he grabbed my phone and ran right on up to Cristina and Brad, wedging himself into a good position. He got so close up, I had to call him back, because I was afraid he was going to end up in all the official wedding photos!

It was a really fun night. We ate, we laughed, we had a great time with our family. Mark had a blast with his cousins, and I had a blast with all mine. It was a lovely reminder of how great family really is, and how much fun weddings can be.

Cheers to the newlyweds!

This weekend my family had the pleasure of watching one of our own walk down the aisle.

This time, it was Brian, one of our "blond brothers." He and his brother Brad (aka Big Brad) grew up across the street from my family, and we kids spent every waking moment together, trying unsuccessfully to maim or kill one another. (Not on purpose; we were just a rowdy bunch, and it really is a miracle we all survived childhood intact.) I call them my blond brothers because the only way you could tell us all apart in the mob was by hair color. If you had brown hair, you were a Dinsdale; if you had blond, you were a Roppé.

There was a giddiness in the air before the ceremony. Brian looked so proud (and tall!) in his tuxedo. He was very excited, as was his family. We were all in a bit of disbelief; no one could believe this day had finally arrived. Brian's mom asked me no less than four times if I could believe this was actually happening; we'd all had our doubts about Brian ever getting married.

My family (minus Smed the groomsman) outside the chapel (yes, that's a full moon behind them)

But when the wedding started, all doubt was erased from our minds. Brian cried throughout most of the ceremony, while Colleen beamed at him with love and unabashed joy. When the chaplain asked if she took Brian to be her husband, she boomed confidently, "I DO!" The church erupted in laughter, then she looked at Brian and repeated, "I do." It was a wonderful moment.

Mr. and Mrs. Brian Roppé!

Then it was on to the reception. Our family was split between two tables, but my brother Scott quickly rearranged one into a kid's table. The second generation of Dinsdale and Roppé kids (another mob of brown and blonde kids!) took up the kid's table, and I smiled at the sight of them all.

The kids were in heaven. Upon arriving at the reception, they'd been plied with all sorts of toys--coloring books, colored pencils, puzzles, games (Note to all future brides and grooms--this was a genius idea!). But the big hit was the box of glow sticks. At one point, Mark was wearing a glowing rainbow of bracelets, and told me he was going back for more. I suggested he remove the bracelets he had on first, to improve his chances of getting more. Apparently it worked, because by the end of the night, the kids had all worked together to make a giant hula-hoop-sized ring of glowsticks.

The kids were thoroughly entertained. We adults were happy, too. The open bar and warm appetizers helped, and the company was good. We spent a lot of time just laughing, with and at each other.

We watched all of the wedding rituals--first dance, cutting of the cake. Brian and Colleen invited all the other married couples to the floor to dance, then kicked them off according to how many years they'd been wed. Slowly, a winning couple appeared.

Yahoo for my parents!

"Please congratulate Ralph and Virginia Dinsdale!" the man with the microphone announced. "They've been married for 48 years!"

"Yep, and 27 of them happily!" I joked to the people around me. We all clapped and cheered them on. It was awesome to see my parents on the dance floor having so much fun.

But my favorite part was the roast--err, best man's speech. Big Brad took his job very seriously, and with a straight face, congratulated Brian and Colleen. And then, with equal seriousness, he told the crowd that Brian was a stand-up guy, offering up as proof "the BB gun incident."

All he had to say was "BB gun" and our half of the room fell to the floor with laughter. Brad regaled us with the infamous story of how he and my brother Tim turned their little brothers into moving targets, pelting them with BBs. This story is a legend in our families, and we laughed uncotrollably at Big Brad's hilarious version of it.

And that moment reminded us we Dinsdales and Roppés have a very sick sense of humor. My sister-in-law Mary pointed to the other side of the room and whispered, "Look at them--they're HORRIFIED at this story!" It was true--the bride's side of the room sat in silence, mouths agape, gasping at the awful story. Meanwhile, our side of the room was in tears, also gasping, but only because they were laughing too hard.

It was living proof that you can dress us up and take us out, but eventually, we still revert back to those immature kids growing up together.

(For the record, the bride's side of the family also gave speeches. Her maid of honor and father toasted with wonderfully sweet, emotional words, which the other side of the room loved. It was very nice!)

It was on to dinner, dancing, and cake, and then suddenly, the lights came on. The party was over much too soon, for us anyway. We collected up the children and glowsticks, hugged the bride and groom one last time, and made our way home, still laughing.

Congrats, Brian and Colleen! Thank you for including us all in your celebration!