Houston, We Have So Many Problems: A Very Texas Wedding

Two months ago, my best friend, Jenn, said, “Everyone is going to [our friend] Cami’s wedding in Houston in April, but I don’t know if I can do it. I hate flying, and I don’t want to leave the dog, and [my husband] Pete won’t dance with me.”

Jenn and I like to pretend this is from our wedding. To each other.
Jenn and Jules (pic from our Secret Wedding)

I took a quick inventory of my life: I hadn’t flown anywhere in four years. My future career was uncertain. I was restless as hell. I liked to dance.

“I’ll go with you,” I blurted. After all, I knew the bride and everyone going.

Jenn’s face lit up, and within the hour, she’d booked our flight. This past Friday morning, I rose at 4:45 and picked up Jenn.

“You don’t trust me to get to your parents’ house on time [since your mom is bringing us to the airport]?” she asked.

“Absolutely not. Don’t argue with me,” I replied, recalling the previous weekend, when Jenn was supposed to come over for lunch, and slept until 1pm.

To Jenn’s credit, she was all ready to go when I arrived, and in a stroke of genius, had booked us aisle seats across from each other. We strained our necks, but got the ab workout of a lifetime, each trying to out-joke the other during the 3 1/2-hour flight.

“You were those people?” our friend Mary later asked.

Yes. Yes, we were.

“We’re just a couple of classy broads,” Jenn said, stowing her ancient cell phone before take-off.

“You put the ass in class,” I replied affectionately.

“I just don’t understand people who have no sense of humor,” I said some time later. “My only problem is I think everything is funny.”

“Your only problem?” Jenn fired back.

Jenn wound up rebooking our hotel so we could stay where Cami (the bride) had scheduled a shuttle to the wedding venue, never mind that Jenn still had to pay for the first hotel because it was nonrefundable.

“We don’t know anything about a shuttle to the wedding,” the front desk told us when we arrived.

Jenn called Cami and found out that the shuttle “never materialized.”


We decided to worry about our ride later. We still had 3 hours to spare, and we were on a mission: hair dye (for Jenn) and vodka (for me both of us).

Gettin' 'er done at Walgreens.
Gettin’ ‘er done at Walgreens.

“There’s a Walgreens and a liquor store within walking distance – 2 blocks,” the front desk assured us.

We found the Walgreens, but walked at least a mile, stopping people to ask where the liquor store was. Our boots were not made for “walking distance” in Texas, but the weather was beautiful.

“I just saw a cop in a cowboy hat, but I’m still starting to think we belong in Houston,” I told Jenn. “We’ve already gotten hit on by three different men.”

“And you don’t think it has anything to do with the fact that we’re asking for liquor at 2 o’clock in the afternoon on a work day?” she replied.

"Now hold it right there, young whippersnapper, you're in vi-o-lation of Code 147: The Texas Ten Gallon. Where on god's green earth is your hat?"
“Now hold it right there, young whippersnapper, you’re in vi-o-lation of Code 147: The Texas Ten Gallon. Where on god’s green earth is your hat?”

By the time we got back to the hotel, we had little time to pre-game. Our friends, who were staying in a different hotel and had rented a car, generously offered to pick us up. Now we had even less time to get ready.

Hang on! Almost ready!
Hang on! Almost ready!

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It was Cami and her soon-to-be-husband. She was holding an iPod.

“I just need you to dock this before the wedding, and play the ‘Processional’ playlist,” she told Jenn.

“O-okay…” Jenn replied, wet hair dripping on ivory shoulders.

“Then you play the ‘Ceremony’ playlist, then the ‘Recessional’ playlist.”

Jenn’s eyes widened, but she just nodded, paying close attention.

“And then the ‘Reception’ playlist,” Cami said, clicking through each one on the little silver rectangle in her hand. “I tried to make it as idiot-proof as possible.”

As soon as they left, we raced to finish getting ready. When our friends picked us up, they were nervous about being late, but in good spirits.

“[Our other friend] Dave just found out he’s the Maid of Honor!” they giggled.

“I just found out I’m the f*cking DJ!” Jenn retorted.

We arrived at the wedding venue early, as luck would have it. It was a Greek restaurant, obviously.

Because when I think Houston, I think...baklava.
Because when I think Houston, I think…baklava.

The wedding coordinator frantically informed us that she was technologically challenged, and pointed to a CD player with no CDs.

“That’s not going to work with this,” Jenn replied, holding the iPod.

“Well we just got a new TV, maybe we can put music on that?” the wedding coordinator said breathlessly, her voice a fascinating mix of Southern and Greek accents.

When I attempted to turn on the TV, it was immediately apparent that the cable wasn’t hooked up. “Maybe if you point the remote here,” the wedding coordinator said, gesturing towards the closet where the CD player sat. I knew I’d never, ever come up with an appropriate response, so I said nothing and glanced back to see if the bar was open yet.

Here’s what happened when we asked the wedding coordinator to take our picture at the end of the night:

We found out one of Cami’s friends was coming by with the iPod speaker and tried to relax, even though the wedding was in mere minutes.

Or it should have been.


The wedding party was two hours late. No reason. Texas time, I guess. My inner Project Manager hyperventilated into a brown paper bag, while my alter ego, Drunk Girl, just… well, you know.

In case you were wondering – the iPod speaker still hadn’t arrived.

“Can you tell everyone to hum the wedding march?” the blushing bride asked Jenn, just before the ceremony started.

"Yee-haw! I am worth the wait, cowboy!"
“Yee-haw! I am worth the wait, cowboy!”

I should probably stop there.

After all that, did we have fun? You be the judge:

“My mom just had to pay a $1,300 overage on the bar bill,” said Cami at the end of the night.

And they lived drunkenly happily ever after.
And they lived drunkenly happily ever after.

P.S. – The speaker finally arrived:


Do you have any wedding snafu stories?

59 thoughts on “Houston, We Have So Many Problems: A Very Texas Wedding”

  1. Oh my! Here’s a snafu for ya. My own wedding has resulted in three, count em, three kids! I can’t crap, get drunk, sit alone and ponder suicide, etc without a little one poking me in the eye and asking what I’m doing and why. Wait, what does snafu mean?

      1. I’ve never been so grateful for a traffic tie-up as I was on the way home from the airport so I could hear first hand about your Texas wedding experience. Better than any 8-minute ab work out! I giggled my way through the rest of the evening just thinking about your stories (and having a few glasses of wine).

      1. I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by the 7 seconds of Houston that I saw (not counting the highway drive from the airport… then again, nothing beats the fragrant splendor people experience when they fly into Newark airport. Everything’s roses after that).

    1. Well now if you couldn’t stop after 1, I can’t help ya. Just train them to fetch you drinks while you’re in the bathroom. Oh. I guess I can help ya.

  2. Nope, but I could make some up!
    I have heard a lot of really bad sermons. One was all about how long people live now and he didn’t think the Church realized that when you say “I do,” you could be married for 75 years!

  3. Hysterical! I loved all the pics – I think the one of you two-fisting the vodka bottles is frame worthy. I sent you an email about my wedding snafu story because it’s too long to share in the comment section. Be afraid… be very afraid….

    1. SCORE! Thanks!! I can’t WAIT to read it. And thank you for appreciating the fine depiction of my alcoholism. They really should hang it in rehab centers everywhere.

  4. Oh my! So you weren’t kidding when you said it was an epic adventure. And that you needed to sleep a thousand years.
    Love the bride’s dress, she looks gorgeous and smashing (and love the “I’m sexy and I know it above her head”)

    Well as luck would have it, our 13th wedding anniversary was just yesterday, I had a post all about our wedding snafus ready to go and forgot to post it. Here’s a few:

    Jim forgot to buy dress socks. He had a great fitting tux, no socks. So he had to go to the wedding wearing his shoes sockless. In all our photos he lifted up his pant leg as a joke.

    During the ceremony, we had to light a unity candle — only we couldn’t get it to light. We stood there, backs to the crowded church, desperately trying to light the damned thing. I kept thinking, “will this look stupid if it isn’t lit? Is this a bad omen?” We both panicked and several minutes went by, you could hear a pin drop. We finally gave up and went on with it. (Later we tried to light the candle and it lit, no problem) We videotaped the whole thing and still get a good laugh at it.

    1. Oh man, you have GOT to send me some of those sockless pics, DP. And you should still put up the post! Happy belated anniversary!

      Um, I think I heard somewhere that unlit candles, much like rain, are good luck… Yeah. Yeah! I totally heard that!

      ‘Scuse me – gotta go back to bed.

  5. Snafu’s you say? Why yes, indeedy do!!

    There are many (MANY) from my wedding, but let’s cut to the chase, shall we? During the course of the evening, my husband’s childhood “friends” decided that an open bar would not suffice, and kept going to the actual bar in the hotel lobby and ordering shots. Then, they would deliver these to my freshly minted husband. By the end of the night, he was sloshed. He could barely stand, could not form words and our last dance? Oh yes, HIGHLY memorable. But the capper is that at the very end of the night, the night desk clerk couldn’t seem to figure out what room we were supposed to be in (you know, us, the huge wedding that just occured in the lobby, looking for the HONEYMOON SUITE. Der!), so as I’m arguing with this noob and coming very close to demanding he call the regular desk person that I had dealt with many times previously (at midnight), my hubs gains some semblance of consciousness. Just enough, it seems, that he figured that HE should handle this, and then proceeded to yell incoherently at the guy and almost got into a fight. My MOH and I had to wrestle him onto a couch in the lobby and settle him down, lest we spend my wedding night in jail. Fun times!!

    1. OH man, this story should be published far and wide as a cautionary tale… although it makes me wonder what’s worse: hub getting beyond sloshed at the wedding, or the night before at the bachelor party… Bad news bears either way. I LOVE that they couldn’t point you in the direction of the honeymoon suite! HA!

      My husband was pretty tipsy (rare for him) and almost spilled a RED drink down the front of my wedding dress. Our marriage was almost over before it started. I insisted we switch to mojitos after that. <—Future brides, take note!

  6. Two friends of mine got married and the priest was doing a terrible job and then stopped about halfway through the ceremony, rubbed his eyes & sighed. Then apologized and said he’s having trouble getting through this because he’d just received some very upsetting news about his health and he wasn’t sure what the future held for him. Then he elaborated. Paused. And continued with the ceremony.

    It was a focused sprint to the bar at the reception after that.

    1. Ha! Wait. I probably shouldn’t laugh at his misfortune, but… that’s amazing.

      The wife of our pastor came up to us halfway through the reception and slurred, “THIS IS THE BEST F*CKING WEDDING I’VE EVER BEEN TO!!!” The look on the pastor’s face… worth the cost of the wedding.

  7. Oh, dear heavens! Wedding snafus. One of my best friends was slated to be a bridesmaid and fell off the face of the earth. That was 18 years ago, and I haven’t heard from her since, which shows that she is wise beyond her years.
    . My husband’s best man backed out about 2 weeks before the wedding,

    My nephew’s tux was too small, and he had three inches of shirt cuff sticking out of his jacket, which is saying something because he was only six.

    My grandfather’s tux arrived. Soaking wet.

    The baker took the little sketch I gave her and replicated it exactly on the groom’s cake. I’m sending it to Cake Wrecks.

    And my husband took me “For Richard or for poorer.” I’m still looking for Richard.

  8. Bless your heart, Jules, for not bashing Houston, my home. (Ouch, that hurt to type that, but at least this time I don’t have to hold a bag over my nose to stop hyperventilating.) I was married in Houston, and my husband had a black eye at the ceremony after being whacked by a tree branch a couple days before. Our wedding photos include one of a friend standing behind us holding a shotgun on Mike with my dad on his other side. (And I hope that was Tito’s vodka you drank.)

    1. “Bless your heart” – now I KNOW you’re from Texas! I was not expecting the explanation there to be “whacked by a tree branch,” but I’m pretty sure i’m relieved to hear it.

      I’m so ashamed it wasn’t Tito’s. We almost bought Texas vodka (don’t remember the brand), but then thought that might be a bad idea. …Were we right?

      1. I expect you can ride your favorite little cowpony to your local liquor distributor and partake of Tito’s. Yeehaw! Don’ forget to wear your spurs, little lady.

  9. I’ve been in four weddings, not including my own. I was the flower girl in all of them. The first two I ran off the stage crying because I wanted my mom and didn’t want to stand up there. And my uncle’s first wife and her bridesmaids all made fun of me…. (I was literally like 5 and they made fun of me for how I slept because I had a weird dream.)
    The third wedding, my aunt’s niece got car sick on the way to the church. Other than that there wasn’t really anything major that happened. Unless you count my aunt walking down the aisle to Backstreet Boys purposefully. (Not sure if that’s considered a disaster or not.)
    The fourth wedding was my best friend since pre-school’s wedding. One of the bridesmaids through a fit and said she wouldn’t come unless she was maid of honor. I said whatever and let her have her moment. She ended up not doing anything at all to help the bride, so I did it all. I gave a toast, helped her pee, helped her in her dress, etc. And at the last minute before we walked out I was moved from the middle of the line to the end because I was the shortest. (Not that big of a deal but it hurt because I should have been maid of honor but I ended up at the back of the line. More of a pride thing than anything…) Oh. And I wore a bubble dress that literally ended at the bottom of my butt cheeks. While I was about 2 months pregnant. And in like 4 inch heels.

    1. *I was obviously not the flower girl in my best friends wedding. Forgot about her wedding until I was about to post this. So I was a flower girl in THREE weddings (:

    2. Okay. 5 years old and being mocked for how you sleep and you still have time in between therapy sessions to leave great comments?! 😉

      I’m having so much trouble moving past the Backstreet Boys part. That is just awesomely bad.

      More power to you for WANTING to be the Maid of Honor – I managed to avoid that distinction even with my own sister, LOL

      I bet you ROCKED that bubble dress!

      1. Ohmigosh. I just almost laughed out loud in my extremely quiet office at this!! But yes, you would be surprised at how much time I have left after therapy!
        It was back when the Backstreet Boys was cool. I mean, at least it wasn’t something crazy like N*sync or, heaven forbid, Britney.
        And yeah I STILL rock that bubble dress! I break it out for special, ass bearing occasions (:

  10. Yeah, that about sums it up. I’m glad that you guys were there and had fun (and a little stress… because what’s a wedding without a little stress for all involved?!). Many of the folks there said it was the best wedding they’d ever attended. I think the open bar had something to do with that. Love you and Jenn for doing everything you did. BIG Texas hugs and kisses!

    1. It’s the Mrs. herself!!! I can’t believe any of us were still standing the next day. Sometimes I want to marry my liver. She’s so good to me.

      That was definitely a TX-sized hug; I felt it from here!!

      Thank you so much for letting us descend on your wedding, LOL, it was as fabulous as you, and wonderful to meet the Mr. at long last!

    1. HA! If this post wasn’t already novel-length, I would have gotten into the fact that Jenn IS a singer, and could have rocked out a cappella-style, and WAS ABOUT TO, when the speaker arrived!

  11. Sounds like a fun day. My snafus hit later in my two weddings. First was about 13 years later, and the second was about 5 years later…oh, not what you meant? Sorry.

  12. All I read was “I didn’t eat BBQ. This is tantamount to punching GotC in the face and I don’t even care.”


    1. Uggggg I thought of you CONSTANTLY as I looked wistfully out various cab windows at all of the Tex-Mex restaurants we had NO opportunity to frequent. Definitely my only real disappointment from the trip! We were literally there less than 24 hours.

  13. My first marriage was a wedding SNAFU from the words: “Do you want to be my date? I forgot my fake ID…” The rest is history, as was the marriage after 6 years.

  14. Also, someone peed in the fountain at our wedding. In front of my Mom and sister. But they aren’t sure who it was because they saw him from the balcony. The mystery is ongoing but I’m confident I can solve it.

  15. I don’t think anything can top those wedding snafu’s. The absolute best part is that Cami completely seemed to roll with it. Now that is one low maintenance bride!

  16. The wedding planner ran to the limo window and said…”did you ask for writing in green icing on the cake?” I laughed…fast forward several hours… The look on my face as I approach the cake covered in rose petals as we are cutting it and I realize…yes… There really is green writing on my wedding cake… Camouflaged…but not quite. Turns out the baker made me an extra to take home because the top layer was allergen free for me… The spare was clearly marked in green icing… Atop my beautiful white basket weave cake…still makes me laugh

  17.  I distinctly remember one wedding, where bride and groom hired a live jazz band to play at the reception.  The band decided to practice in one of the adjacent rooms and you could hear them practicing during the ceremony; then, when the bride came on stage to sing a song for the groom, it turned out that the band didn’t know how to play the song (a very obscure song called “Yesterday” by The Beatles). And to top that, the caterers dropped the wedding cake on the floor.

  18. Sounds like much fun was had by all despite all the problems. Based on the picture that the wedding coordinator took, I don’t think you have to look any further for the culprit for the huge bar bill – the photographer was obviously hammered!

  19. Looks like you had a whirlwind good time, Jules! Nothing better than an open bar and crazy friends. And baklava.

    Wedding snafus? Hmmmm…I married the wrong guy at my first wedding. I guess that counts as a snafu, right?

  20. The BEST parts of weddings are the snafus! I have two. One, at my stepsister’s wedding. My sister was doing something like presenting the unity candle or some shizz like that and in her prep she managed to spill lamp oil all over the alter, and the Body of Christ. She was completely oblivious as to why my other stepsister and I thought this was a Big Deal. We managed to find another Body, but I spent the whole ceremony waiting for the alter to go up in flames from the oil. Sadly, it didn’t.

    The other was at my own wedding, where #5 was the best man. He spent the first part of the ceremony burying everyone’s feet in the sand, and then he looked up and suddenly hauled ass down the beach. Ran. Away. One of ours guests had to go chase him because we were in the middle of saying our vows. It’s still my absolute favorite part of our wedding!

  21. This stuff right here is the bread and butter of your blog. You are such a storyteller! A natural. I loved this one . . . what a mess! A fun mess! (Loved the line about your inner project manager. That’s so me, too.

    1. Nina! I saw this comment right before I went to bed and it put such a smile on my face – THANK YOU! I always worry when I start getting to the 800+ word mark that I’m just being utterly self-indulgent. But dang, everything IS bigger in Texas – even my blog posts! 😉

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