Over Labor Day weekend, we went to a wedding. Jeff took pictures for three days straight, while I drank wine and caught up with old friends.
The bride was beautiful.
The groom was handsome.
They looked good from all angles.
The sun came out from behind the clouds right when they kissed. It was like a lighting cue from the heavens.
Their recessional was "Crazy in Love."
At the reception there was a surprise musical performance for the bride. It didn't stay a surprise for long; now it's on Perez Hilton.
There was dancing on stage with Gilberto Santa Rosa and Rubén Blades.
There were Thunder Cats cake toppers.
I was the filling of a manwich! (Bonus points: my husband took this picture.)
The DJ may or may not have played Thriller. Okay, fine, he totally did. And it was awesome. I had a tequila shot and couldn't remember the steps. But these guys remembered:
And then, finally, for a minute, my husband put down his camera and danced with me like a total fool.
(Plus my back looks really ripped in that picture.)
I guess it was a pretty good weekend.
Obligatory Jeff-promotion: If you or anyone you know needs wedding photos, contact Jeff through his website (he'll travel within reason -- certainly anywhere in the Northeast, or farther if you pay his way). And if anyone needs exercise tips for maximum deltoid-whaling, well, you've come to the wrong place. But I'll do some tricep dips with you if you get me some wine.