The rabbi showed up, so we figured what the hell, let's get married. And then we did. The end. That's not enough detail? Well, there was music, alcohol, a band, more alcohol, and the peasants rejoiced. Oh, and my bustle broke about thirty-seven seconds after our grand entrance as woman and husband. However, mine lasted ever so slightly longer than my mom's did at her wedding, so I consider that to be a victory. Still not enough details? Well, tough. The internet can wait for pictures until I am no longer on a cruise ship and paying forty-eight cents a minute for access. Besides, I'm sure my myriad of minions have posted a disgusting number of pictures on Facebook and tagged me accordingly.