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ninanevermore.
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Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about the fact that my friend, the Cajun Queen, got married the Friday before last. She notified me by sending an email with photos taken at the courthouse where it happened. This casual method of notification didn't hurt my feelings one bit, because I suspect she probably notified her parents the same way. She queen likes attention, but she doesn't like fuss. If the spotlight is going to be on her, it needs to be on her simply because she is fabulous, not because of anything her fabulous self is doing.
She didn't actually even say in the email that she tied the knot, at least not in so many words. The subject line of her email was "Mrs. L." The message it's self was an invitation to view an on-line photo album entitled "Wedding Day." The first photo shows her wearing a white mini dress and bright yellow high-healed sandals, sitting on a plastic chair in a stark civil-service type room. Her long legs are crossed, and in her hand she is holding two little red ring boxes from a jewelry store. She is smiling, but not beaming. She looks a little nervous to me.
The next picture shows the man who won the heart of the Cajun Queen, a truck driver from Baltimore that she met at Voodoo Fest in New Orleans in 2004, the year before Katrina tried to wash the city off the map (and ruined their plans to celebrate their one year dating anniversary, in the process). He is not a stereotypical trucker; he loves art and music and reading, and he adores the Cajun Queen. In the photo, he is standing in front of the windows at the courthouse under the word Criminal with his arms crossed over his chest. He does not look nervous at all; his eyes are bright and it appears he is trying hard not to smile too big, but is about to fail in his effort. He had been trying to talk her into this since shortly after they met.
The next photos are of their hands adorned with rings, of them smiling at each other, and of them kissing. There are a few of a tiny wedding cake (two tiers) sitting on what I recognize as the Queen's dining-room table, and another couple who I suppose were their witnesses and the only other people invited to this smallest of wedding receptions.
I emailed her back to let tell her congratulations, and asked when this had happened. She wrote back: Thank you :) I know we talked about you presiding* but it was a rush deal and no I'm not pregnant. (haha) Yesterday was the day. We had to rush because of the move to Pennsylvania and all the relo stuff I would have been screwed out of if we weren't married. I also had to get him on the deed of the house ASAP. We are a little crazy right now. How are things there? We're going to have some sort of small reception in Houston and [you all] are so invited. Here's 2 pics that you'll love...I'm still me!!! :)
The photos she send with this email showed her gripping the sides of a beer keg while two men held her legs in the air over it and a woman fed the nozzle directly into her mouth. The pictures put me at ease, and I am pleased to say that the Queen is still her royal self. A nice boy from Baltimore may have made an honest woman out of her, but that doesn't change the fact that a Cajun woman is the one creature in this world that can't be domesticated or tamed in any way.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
* Because I am an ordained Universal Life Minister, meaning I can legally perform weddings, if I wanted to. You can, too, by logging onto http://www.ulc.net/. It will take you about five minutes. No kidding.
.
.
Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about the fact that my friend, the Cajun Queen, got married the Friday before last. She notified me by sending an email with photos taken at the courthouse where it happened. This casual method of notification didn't hurt my feelings one bit, because I suspect she probably notified her parents the same way. She queen likes attention, but she doesn't like fuss. If the spotlight is going to be on her, it needs to be on her simply because she is fabulous, not because of anything her fabulous self is doing.
She didn't actually even say in the email that she tied the knot, at least not in so many words. The subject line of her email was "Mrs. L." The message it's self was an invitation to view an on-line photo album entitled "Wedding Day." The first photo shows her wearing a white mini dress and bright yellow high-healed sandals, sitting on a plastic chair in a stark civil-service type room. Her long legs are crossed, and in her hand she is holding two little red ring boxes from a jewelry store. She is smiling, but not beaming. She looks a little nervous to me.
The next picture shows the man who won the heart of the Cajun Queen, a truck driver from Baltimore that she met at Voodoo Fest in New Orleans in 2004, the year before Katrina tried to wash the city off the map (and ruined their plans to celebrate their one year dating anniversary, in the process). He is not a stereotypical trucker; he loves art and music and reading, and he adores the Cajun Queen. In the photo, he is standing in front of the windows at the courthouse under the word Criminal with his arms crossed over his chest. He does not look nervous at all; his eyes are bright and it appears he is trying hard not to smile too big, but is about to fail in his effort. He had been trying to talk her into this since shortly after they met.
The next photos are of their hands adorned with rings, of them smiling at each other, and of them kissing. There are a few of a tiny wedding cake (two tiers) sitting on what I recognize as the Queen's dining-room table, and another couple who I suppose were their witnesses and the only other people invited to this smallest of wedding receptions.
I emailed her back to let tell her congratulations, and asked when this had happened. She wrote back: Thank you :) I know we talked about you presiding* but it was a rush deal and no I'm not pregnant. (haha) Yesterday was the day. We had to rush because of the move to Pennsylvania and all the relo stuff I would have been screwed out of if we weren't married. I also had to get him on the deed of the house ASAP. We are a little crazy right now. How are things there? We're going to have some sort of small reception in Houston and [you all] are so invited. Here's 2 pics that you'll love...I'm still me!!! :)
The photos she send with this email showed her gripping the sides of a beer keg while two men held her legs in the air over it and a woman fed the nozzle directly into her mouth. The pictures put me at ease, and I am pleased to say that the Queen is still her royal self. A nice boy from Baltimore may have made an honest woman out of her, but that doesn't change the fact that a Cajun woman is the one creature in this world that can't be domesticated or tamed in any way.
* Because I am an ordained Universal Life Minister, meaning I can legally perform weddings, if I wanted to. You can, too, by logging onto http://www.ulc.net/. It will take you about five minutes. No kidding.
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no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 06:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 01:18 am (UTC)She's moving to Pennsylvania. I wonder what folks up there will make of her?
no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 07:14 pm (UTC)LoL.... you phrased that so much better than how I usually hear it: "you can't turn a 'ho into a housewife".
Some folks are free spirits, and the best thing you can do is congratulate them while they're busy enjoying themselves. LoL
no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 01:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 11:05 pm (UTC)My trucker is definitely not a typical one either. I'm sure he'd get along with the Cajun Queen's husbands!
no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 01:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 02:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 04:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 11:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-12 03:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-12 05:10 pm (UTC)