The Royal Wedding

11 am on a Saturday. Who’s tired? If your eyelids are drooping, it’s either because you were out late last night (and you’re probably much younger than 30), or because you woke up at the butt-crack of dawn to watch people who are vastly more elegant than you and me get married. (I mean come on, I just used “butt-crack” on my public blog.)

I’m exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. I set my alarm for 5 am to watch all of the pre-wedding coverage, but God didn’t want that to happen (read: I shut my alarm off because I was like “HELL NO IT’S SATURDAY), and I finally rolled out of bed at 6:34 am. Aka PERFECT TIMING. I turned on the TV and Hoda and the entire Today Show crew were almost sh*tting themselves because the procession, beginning with Prince Harry and William were due to arrive in 8 minutes. Exactly. This thing was more exactly choreographed than the Macy’s Parade. And that’s saying a lot. As soon as the princes emerged from their cavalcade of cars (at 6:42 am exactly), I had tears in my eyes. Or maybe it was just leftover remnants of sleep. Could have been both.

I got up and put on my tiara. You think I’m kidding, don’t you? Well if you think I’m kidding, you don’t know me very well. I love a good tiara. I’m 99% certain I was meant to be a princess. DAMN YOU MEGHAN MARKLE FOR TAKING THE LAST ELIGIBLE PRINCE. Anyway, so there I am watching the princes and other royal family arrive, on the couch, tiara perched on my head. Then, of course, emoji-bf awakes from his slumber and finds me in the living room, tiara and all. Did you ever think that the most embarrassing thing that could happen to you is your boyfriend finding your Pinterest board of engagement rings when you’re not even living with him? I see your Pinterest board, and I raise you this situation. Where your boyfriend finds you on the couch before the sun rises, in a tiara, crying, watching people walk down the street to a wedding. A wedding you have zero ties to. Alas, this is not the first time he has seen me do ridiculous things. He just rolled his eyes and went to brush his teeth.

Let’s talk about the bride’s dress and procession. I don’t need to show you photos because the internet has millions of them already. I absolutely love weddings. But more than I love weddings, I LOVE judging bridal gowns. I can sit and watch a marathon of Say Yes to the Dress for hours and I can say NO to every single one. But Meghan was gorgeous. (Yes, we are on a first-name basis. I was at her wedding, after all!) I love a simple gown, and the boat neck was beautiful. The massive lace veil, together with the stunning tiara borrowed from Queen Mary was enough as far as accessories. I loved the understated complete package, with minimal makeup. The commentators kept talking about how she loves her freckles and wanted them to show. Who knows if that’s true, but it looked natural, which is best, because the look on Harry’s face… UGH. I mean, COME ON. SO CUTE!!! How many memes are going to come from that sparkle in his eyes!? “Get yourself a man who looks at you like this.” I can see it already. I am sure it already exists on the internet. The absolute best part of the wedding was when she walked to the altar, and Harry said “You look amazing.” Then different commentators think he either said “I love you” or “my Heart.” KILL ME NOW. SO ROMANTIC. I’M OBSESSED. CAPS NECESSARY. And the little kiddies behind her holding her train?? UGH. My heart was bursting.

Now to the part I know y’all have been waiting on… my commentary on the actual service. Blah blah blah boring white royal wedding blah blah blah BLACK PASTOR KILLS THE GAME. Yeah, if you guys didn’t see it, go watch it. Bishop Michael Bruce Curry brought the house down. Almost literally. The white people in that room did not know what to do. Now guys, this was the not the first time I had heard a black preacher tell people THE WORD. I know what you’re thinking, didn’t this girl say she was Jewish? Well yeah, but I’ve been around. I’ve been to African Church on Christmas. More than once. And let me tell you something about the services led by black preachers… people don’t just sit there and take it, they stand up and feel the word like it is being delivered straight from god. I was watching Bishop Curry up there talking with his hands, quoting Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and I was waiting for Meghan’s mom to stand up and say “Glory Hallelujah! Praise Jesus!” See below, Meghan’s mom biting her lip trying to keep herself in her seat.

Unfortunately, this did not happen. But it was close to happening. The actual words the bishop spoke were great, about love and fire, and laying your swords down by the riverside… he even slipped in a couple references to slavery and it was EVERYTHING. However, the best part of his address wasn’t the actual address, it was the news cameras panning around the room at the (still-largely-white) guests and watching their faces. They were confused. Panicked. Highly entertained. It reminded me of myself that very first time in black church. And then, just when I didn’t think it could get better, we pan to an all-black gospel choir singing Stand By Me. GTFO. AHHHH SO AMAZING. Stick a fork in me, because I was DONE. Tears, so many tears.

Then came the famous kiss outside the church, which was chaste at best, but who even cares, because the gospel choir was at it again! With Etta James’s version of Amen/This Little Light of Mine. Good lord. That was totally worth waking up at 6 am.

The happy, adorable couple then left in their horse-drawn carriage, on a parade processional a couple miles long, followed by 26 mounted soldiers, in the pomp and pageantry I can only imagine I will also have on my wedding day, because duh, doesn’t everyone? Not to be upstaged by the fabulous gospel choir, Princess Charlotte waved them off, and stole the show entirely. Now I need a nap. Oh, and Oprah, you’re officially invited to my wedding, too.