Let me begin by saying that I LOVED my wedding. It was very small, humble and totally us ... in other words on an extreme budget. My parents generously gifted us with the funds to plan the wedding, but we had no idea how ridiculously overpriced things are. Like, RIDICULOUS. One photographer told me that their packages "started" at five grand. We saw dresses for $3000, cakes for $1000, etc. But we made it work, with the help of caring and skilled friends. For example, my dearest friend Melissa graciously offered her services as DJ. Here she is spinning her magic:

The boom box was on loan from my roommate at the time, who, if I remember correctly, even installed fresh batteries for the big day. You can see how the whole thing came together with the talent of our friends and family.
The one thing, the ONE thing, EVERYONE said to fork out the cash for, was the photographer. Matt and I both have appreciation for nice pictures, so we understood this and accepted the fact that most of our budget would go toward getting stunning keepsakes from our special day. The photographers studio was adorned with gorgeous sample photos of couples sharing moments under a massive oak tree, near a swan filled pond, floating on puffy clouds and walking on water, etc. I naively assumed that we would come away with something remotely similar to the puffy cloud pictures, as the photographer briefly mentioned that one of his associates would taking the pictures. Not him. An associate.
About the associate. Now I am not a professional, so maybe it's just me, but I would think that a good wedding photographer should be almost like a phantom wedding guest. You shouldn't even know that they are there. They should blend into the background and subconsciously know when to snap away as you and your new spouse share special magical moments under oak trees.
Our photographer showed up at the wedding wearing the Joseph's technicolor dreamcoat. Seriously. She could not have looked more 80s, or stood out more if she tried. That was okay, though, because she was so sweet. It turned out, as she made a point of telling us several times, that she was a single mother, working hard to provide for her little girl. Maybe that thought clouded our judgement as she mentioned 429 times throughout the night that if we really liked our pictures, could we maybe write a short letter of recommendation? Of course! we thought. Anything to help this nice woman get a new wardrobe take care of her young child.
Sweet mother of pearl, if only we had known. If only. We. Had. Known.
Before I begin the portrait presentation, may I say that this would not be at all funny if Matt's aunt was not also snapping away that day, and if we did not get some great shots from her. If we didn't have those pictures with which to remember our wedding I would probably still be huddled in a dark corner, rocking, crying and whispering "why???" over and over.
Also, I need to add that ALL of the pictures from the, ahem, professional are total crap. It's not like we got a few bad pictures, hardy har har. The WHOLE album is laden with pictures that are off center, unflattering, eyes closed, poorly flashed, etc.
So, here are some of my favorites. First the C Lo.
Nevermind that I am staring into oblivion, it is a totally unnatural pose, and the lighting is horrid. Please, look at my butt. (I will probably never ever ever say that again.) My dress had these two panels that tied together in the back. In this shot, I am holding a panel awkwardly, with my arm blocking any space between, thereby creating the J LO butt. And just so you know, I am actually staring up at a couple on their balcony, holding margaritas, and shouting, "Hey! Congratulations!" That is how ghetto quaint and cozy our wedding was.
Here we have the actual ceremony.