“I, Allegra, take thee, Max Spiegelman [’16], to be my unlawfully wedded spouse, my constant companion, from this day until tomorrow,” I said. “I offer you my silly vow: to be your faithful partner, in times of homework, stress, and sleepiness, in post-test euphoria and extracurricular excitement, as well as states of altered consciousness. In the presence of this room of random people, I promise to chill with you unconditionally, to respect you and support you in your goals, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as it is Friday, Oct. 26, 2012.”

“Do you, Partner A, take Partner B to be your falafel-y wedded spouse?” Sage Ryza ’15 and Nina Gerona ’15, the organizers of the one-day marriage event and writers of this group vow, said in unison.

“I do,” half of the participants—about 35 students—responded. Then the Partner Bs echoed with their own affirmation.

“You may now hug your spouse,” said Ryza and Gerona.

Ryza and Gerona had put the wedding ceremony together in just a couple of days, after Ryza came up with the idea while studying for her art history exam. The plan was to officiate a fake wedding for interested students and let them experience marital bliss (or what have you) for exactly one day.

“In marriage you have to really get to know another person and deal with whatever they are instead of picking and choosing the parts of them that you like, and I wanted to simulate that,” Ryza said. “And I just thought it would be pretty fucking ridiculous if we had a bunch of people get married.”

Gerona said it was important the event be a wedding rather than a speed-dating event. She explained that while both types of events would be conducive to meeting new people, marriage implies a greater commitment to the other person, even in the face of disagreement or incompatibility, and even if the bond only lasts a day.

One-day marriage attendees were greeted with the dulcet tones of Lou Bega’s “Mambo No. 5,” and other wedding reception classics. Bachelors and bachelorettes were instructed to write down three facts about themselves that they would want a spouse to know but that would not come up naturally within the first five minutes of introduction. They then deposited their WesIDs into one of six boxes, the labels of which were in keeping with Connecticut’s marriage equality laws: female seeking male, female seeking female, female seeking male or female, male seeking female, male seeking male, or male seeking female or male. The hosts drew two IDs at a time from corresponding boxes and announced the pairings. Two by two, anxious halves became whole as they embarked, hand in hand, on their journey down the long white carpet bisecting the Hewitt 9 lounge. The jury is still out on whether most couples opted for hands cupped or fingers laced.

“We didn’t want to offend anyone,” Gerona said about the box system. “But we had to separate people into categories, which always is a horrible thing because there are a lot of different sexual preferences and genders, but we couldn’t have, like, 20 boxes for every different thing.”

A slight problem arose when it turned out there were more females seeking males than males seeking females. Gerona and Ryza were quick to improvise, though.

“Would any of the already married couples be willing to take on another wife?”

Several newlyweds jumped at the opportunity, including Maddy Longacre ’16 and her husband Connor Justice ’16. In addition to a penchant for polygamy, Longacre and Justice discovered that they share a love for square-rimmed glasses and swing dancing.

Kim Chu ’14 also found common ground with her husband Tenzin Masselli ’15. A biology and classics double major, Chu did not think she would have much in common with history major and crew rower Masselli.

“It turned out we both like the same nerdy things,” Chu said.

Both she and Masselli had mentioned a passion for anime and manga on their fact sheets. Their marriage ended amicably after lunch the next day because Masselli had crew practice.

“It was cool seeing people hit it off right away and go do something together,” Gerona said.

While most participants did not spend every waking moment of their matrimonial 24 hours with their better halves, many did venture out on Usdates (Usdan dates), and several attended the Eclectic concert that followed the wedding ceremony together, as a honeymoon of sorts. Some couples agreed to the tenets of an open marriage, permitting and in some cases encouraging one partner to “go to Eclectic and get some” while the other stayed in to do work. No one has confirmed or denied whether rings—plastic spiders, perfect for an October wedding—were removed before said trysts took place.

It was, interestingly, just these sorts of casual hookups that initially inspired the one-day marriage idea.

“The hookup scene at college is so fucking weird,” Ryza said. “It’s like: no commitment, don’t even get to know someone, just do some sexual activities for some short amount of time and then don’t talk after and just pretend it never happened. And it just creates this horrible, awkward situation. So I was just thinking, what would be the opposite of that? Being married to someone.”

Gerona added that the one-day marriage might clarify the typically hazy rules governing college relationships.

“You hook up with someone, and then you play phone tag back and forth, and there’s who-texts-who, and there are these kind of expectations,” Gerona said. “You’re both trying to get something from each other, but with [the one-day marriage], you and the other person have already committed to each other, and it’s just an opportunity to get to know someone in a really unique way.”

Gerona added that the event offered an alternative to existing opportunities to meet new people.

“On the ACB [Anonymous Confession Board] there are always those posts like, ‘male for female,’” Gerona added. “Who knows if those actually happen, but [the one-day marriage] is a way less creepy version of that. Everyone wants to meet people, so it’s cool that people with an open mind who were just trying to make new friends had a place to do that.”

Gerona and Ryza hope to hold this sort of event at least once a semester. They mentioned that they would like to do a follow-up event or survey so they can get some feedback and exes can get some closure. In the future, they might include couples’ games immediately after the wedding ceremony to facilitate bonding.

Overall, the duo was satisfied with the event, although the one-day marriage was not without controversy; a religious group at Cornell University expressed via Facebook their disapproval of the event’s promotion of promiscuity and cheapening of the sanctity of marriage.

The one-day marriage is just one of many ideas Ryza has to push social boundaries. This year she founded the people-watching club, and she and Gerona have plans to unveil a social experiments club.

Not everyone would consider being married for 24 hours a social experiment.  Some might see it as a way to rival the nuptial records of various celebrities (Kim Kardashian: 1,728 hours; Britney Spears: 55). Maybe others want to start a registry at Weshop or turn Homecoming Weekend into yet another “Meet the Parents” sequel, chock full of rom-com in-law antics. Ryza and Gerona seem to believe that the appeal of the one-day marriage is open to interpretation, but they agree that it is a step toward achieving their ultimate goal: to “keep Wes weird.”