When the MoH Gives a Toast
by Jane Moneypenny
Good evening, everyone. For those that don’t know me, I’m Jane, the maid-of-honor.
To be brutally honest, I have an intense fear of public speaking so excuse me if I start speaking even faster than I usually do. Or if I seem panicked and want to run. (Breathe and slow down the talking)
While I haven’t known bride as long as most people in this room or as long as the best man has known the groom, I’m honored to stand up next to her on the biggest day of her life.
On paper, Anna and I are quite different. She finds happiness in organic and healthy food; I really love steak and potatoes. She devotes her daily schedule to yoga and finding zen; I devote it to watching Sports Center and yelling at games. She’s the youngest; I’m the oldest. She hates making lists and I make lists just to have the pleasure of checking things off. (Smile at crowd).
Despite all this, we’ve become great friends in the last three years (cross my fingers behind my back) and I can speak for all of our friends in Austin that we will sincerely miss her when she leaves us behind for fancy New York. (Smile at bride).
Since I’ve never been married, I really can’t give much advice on this new phase of your life. But I will say this to Andrew and he already knows this, always put the dog first. We already know she’ll choose Roxy to spend an eternity with on a desert island, so if you want to get in good, you better treat that dog well.
So with that limited knowledge of keeping a marriage happy, I’ll move on to what I can do and that is toast you with this: May you laugh long, live long and love long. Congratulations! (Toast)
That’s the speech I would have given last weekend if called upon. I made it up on the spot while the best man was giving a hell of a hilarious one about his childhood with the groom. If I was better friends with the bride (long story how I ended up as MoH) and if she hadn’t been a ridiculous bridezilla that managed to piss of everyone in her life, I would have gotten over the stage fright fear like I did for my own best friend and made the speech.
Maybe I should have sucked it up and said it, but it would have been insincere. I’ll spare you the details of Bridezilla, but will summarize it as no rehearsal dinner, wanting us to bake 300 cookies for favors, do everything for her (programs, invites, garter, decorations, etc. etc. etc.), inviting people to her bachelorette party that weren’t invited to the wedding, expecting people to pay for things for her wedding while she sat on her ass doing nothing.
And the list of “Why I’ll Elope One Day” keeps growing.