Last week Eric and I went to his cousin’s wedding at the Salt Lake Temple. It was a Friday morning and the temple was buzzing with swarms of summer brides and their wedding parties. This was the first wedding I had been to at the Salt Lake Temple, and I couldn’t believe how many brides they were pumping out! It was like a factory!
I later figured out that it was 8-8-08, and the sexy date probably contributed to influx of newlyweds.
Anyway, for those of you who aren’t down with the Mormon temple wedding ways, after the small ceremony, the guests wait outside of the temple doors, and then after the bride is all primped, her and the groom make a grand exit. Everyone cheers, gives hugs, and takes pictures.
The temple courtyard was packed while we were waiting for Eric’s cousin and new bride to exit, and I was enjoying oogling at all the brides, their flowers, and their grooms. There must have been a dozen brides tromping about, but one particular bride caught my attention.
She had the prettiest dress, that I’m sure she designed herself (not to mention a cute little groom) and the hippest wedding party you could imagine. She had a gorgeous lace parisol, fab shoes, and I just kind of fell in love with her.
I didn’t want to bug her on her big day, but I wanted a picture of her dress.
Men won’t understand why. “You’re already married, why would you want a picture of a dress? That’s weird.” But I know I don’t have to explain myself to the ladies. I wanted a picture ok. Moving on.
I waited til she was just standing by herself while her groom was taking pictures, and I went up to her prepared to tell her how beautiful I thought she looked, how fabulous her dress was, and to say congratulations in general. I had my camera phone ready and all the words planned out in my head.
I walked up and said, obviously with way too much enthusiasm, “Oh my gosh! I love your breasts!”
She looked at me, I realized what I had said, and then corrected, “Oh your breasts are great, um, but, uh I meant I love your dress!”
She was a little dazed and confused, but very nice about the whole thing. I bumbled on about how I just got married, but if I hadn’t had my dress I’d want hers and, blah blah blah, all too fast for her to understand I’m sure, and then I took a picture (yes I still took the picture) said congrats, and sheepishly walked away.
I don’t know why I feel like I have to go up to people on their wedding day and tell them they have a nice rack. I don’t know why I can’t just keep my comments to myself. I mean I have the blog as an outlet, why do I need more!? I claim partial dyslexia, and this is a classic case in point. I said, “bress,” but it of course came out like “breasts.”
Anyway, here is a picture of the beautiful bride and her sizzlin’ bust. If you know her, please apologize for me. The picture doesn’t do her dress justice (there was a beautiful bow and some great detail) but as you can imagine, it was taken hastily.