We're gettin' hitched!

For a weekend of fresh mountain air, craft brews and revelry, look no further than our destination wedding in beautiful Asheville, North Carolina! We hope you'll join us for dancing, hiking, feasting, and music-making as we gather our nearest and dearest to celebrate our next great adventure.

"I've got the perfect guy for you," he said. It was five and a half years ago, and Taylor (now the Man of Honor) had invited Stefanie (now the bride) to be his date to the wedding of our dear friends Morgan and Laura McCann (Because it was "better than bringing some rando off Tinder.") "He's 6'3", his nickname is Thor, and he has an ass that won't quit. He won't be your husband, but you're gonna have a great time." He was right on all counts but one. Paul (then a groomsman, now the groom) says he knew from the first moment, when Stef fixed him with a level gaze and said "so are you going to get me a drink, or what?" Stef denies ever saying such a thing.

On the last day of 2019, we had very fancy plans to ring in the new year at a very fancy club in downtown NYC where Taylor (yes, the same Taylor) was the very fancy beverage director. Paul was allegedly planning to pop the question in grand style at the climax of the evening. But that morning, still in our pajamas, we fell into another round of the ongoing and increasingly volatile "do we get married" debate. Stef argued for the umpteenth time that we didn't need the expense and theatrics of a wedding to validate our partnership while Paul waxed philosophical about the power of ritual, the pragmatism of legal partnership, and our family traditions of marriage and round and round it went. After about twenty minutes of escalating back-and-forth, Paul marched into the bedroom, returned with a small box, put it down in front of Stef and said "I'm done talking in hypotheticals." And that was that.

Paul said "I love you" after a week. We moved in together after four months, and left for a cruise ship contract together before we'd hit six months. We spent a year hundreds of miles from anyone we knew, living on top of each other (literally. There were bunk beds) in a crew cabin so tiny that Paul could barely shower without Stef, as one cast member put it, "hosing him down like an elephant." We spent seven months apart while Stef was on tour with "A Bronx Tale", subsisting on phone calls, Facetime, and the visits we could manage. Then it was back to the pressure-cooker of togetherness as we weathered lockdown in our tiny studio, living and working from home without a door to separate us (except the bathroom, or as we came to know it, "the office"). These experiences challenged us, forced us to adapt, and are the bedrock on which our marriage is being built. We are grateful for a life already so rich in adventure as well as for the tests along the way; together they give us the courage and conviction to stand before the ones we love and take this big step.