If I remember correctly, it was pretty much a perfect day. It was cloudy all morning, then, ten minutes before the ceremony, the sun broke through the clouds as if a gentle hand from heaven was reaching down to smite the heathen unbelievers having their non-religious, civil ceremony, but then decided, eh, everything looked so nice with the roses and everything, it'll pass on the smiting today and leave the sun.

The only drama (and it was small) was the reaction from the crowd when I had Tom put the ring on my right hand. It just fits better there. I didn't think anything of it, but people kept coming up to me afterwards and asked what it means, what's the significance? Did you know it's on the wrong hand, Suzanne? I found out later that most of Europe puts it on the right hand, and I wish I'd known that during the wedding so I had a cooler answer than "Um, it just fits on that finger better?"

All in all. Good times were had, good food eaten, lot's of hugs were given to lot's of friends and relatives I haven't seen in years. What more could a girl ask for?