Category Archives: Zia

I confess.

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I wasn’t checking my email just now, or writing a text.  I was taking your picture.  You caught me, and there’s been plenty of times you haven’t.

I do it because you’re prettier than you think.  I do it because I like all your different smiles, not just the one you save for the camera.  And I do it because the older I get the faster time seems to go by and whenever I think to myself “where DID the year go?!” …….. it’s easy for me to remember the answer.

I spent it with you.

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aurora angelica watching tv

buckman breakfast burrito

ct breakfast

ct me holding hands

miss angelica breakfast

zia and lele wine bar SF

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THIS is vacation.

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Invitation only, grand farewells
Crash the best one, of the best ones
Clear liquor and cloudy eyed, too early to say goodnight

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I watch you spin around in your highest heels
You are the best one, of the best ones
We
all
look
like
we
feel

(lyrics from Stolen by Dashboard Confessional)

Zia married Lele.

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She asked me if I could believe it.  I met Zia the same week she met Lele, (although I didn’t meet him until much later) and two years later, to the day, she was marrying him.

They have a large family wedding coming up in Boston, but for various reasons, it was much easier to be legally wed in their home state of California.  Lele was under the impression that they would simply be going to the courthouse some times this week, but Zia …….. well, she sort of owed him a surprise.  Lele’s proposal to her involved her leaving her house thinking they were going for sushi, and ending up in the middle of a Guatemalan lake, looking for a shaman.  Really I’ll let her tell it.

So Zia planned a surprise wedding.  The tuxedo tshirt was bought, the hot air balloon hired, and Lele’s friend Crazy Ray* agreed to come as the witness.  I went through the shocking simple process (in this state anyway) of becoming certified to marry people to each other.

*(With a name like Crazy Ray, I assumed he sold mattresses, or maybe used cars, for a living.  Turns out he’s some sort of UFC fighter, with a neck so large we couldn’t get a bow tie around it.)

I got up Sat morning, pre-ass-crack-of-dawn, (no, really, three thirty am) and drove a hour and a half into a local wine growing area to meet the rest of the wedding party.  You might be wondering, if I donned a clerical collar, the apparel of God’s annointed servants, wouldn’t I be struck down by lightning?  Well, on the drive up, a meteor passed mere yards from my car.  Clearly it was a warning shot, across the deck.  I think He was trying to say he understood this time, but ONLY BARELY.

Photo by Zia

Lele had just been formally invited to his own wedding, via an invitation handed to him by Zia, in the car.  He’d been attempting to guess what had her wake him up so early for, and as close as he got was Renaissance Fair.

Photo by Zia

He was really touched.  He had felt a courthouse wedding would feel “anti-climatic” for he and Zia.

Photo by me, on Zia's camera

Since he was now in on it, I could reveal my clerical collar.  Slowly.  To a beat.  I am a full service minister, folks.

Photo by Zia

Photo by Zia

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Zia gave me the perfect finishing touch, a tiny tophat.  I love the tiny tophat.  I don’t know how I ever existed without a tiny tophat before.  If you asked if I’m wearing it right now the answer would be …….. well, no, but I wish I was.

Photo by Zia

The sunrise ride was truly lovely, and I didn’t flub any of my lines.  The cake, lovingly crafted by Sam, was delicious.  I’ll let the pictures tell the story, because I think they paint a better picture than my words of how adorable they are, and how magical it was to be a part of this with them.

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Photo by Lele

Photo by Zia

Photo by Zia

Photo by Ray

Photo by Ray

Photo by Zia, Cake by Sam

Photo by me

Photo by me

Photo by me

Photo by me

Photo by me

Photo by me

Photo by Lele

Photo by Zia

Photo by Zia

Photo by Zia

Photo by Zia (obviously)

Photo by me

It was so magical in fact, that they invited me on their honeymoon.

And I went.

I’m a FULL.  SERVICE.  MINISTER.  folks.