Archive for the ‘Flashbacks’ Category

Once upon a time there was a little mutt puppy named Lucy.  She was beloved by her owner named Katie and all was right with the world.

Together, Katie and Lucy explored the world together.

It was a happy time, even if Katie did often insist on dressing Lucy in ridiculous outfits.

Lucy loved Katie so much that she even forgave her for The Hat Incident of 2003.

And then Katie married a boy named Chris and though Lucy needed some time to adjust, she eventually came to love Chris, too.  He let her sleep in the bed with him.

And when they went boating…

…Chris dove in and saved Lucy when she forgot how short her legs were and she jumped out of the boat.

Yes, Lucy came to love her little family of three.  But then, unexpectedly, they became a family of four.

Katie and Chris brought Molly home one snowy, winter day and Lucy was none too pleased.  No one had asked her if she wanted a furry canine companion, after all.

Now, Lucy began to notice there was less room for her on the couches during nap time.  This would not do.

And then Molly began to make friends with Lucy’s favorite Baby.  No, this would not do at all.

But when Molly began to claim her place on the bed, Lucy had had enough.

And so Lucy began to assert her dominance over the silly black Labrador mutt puppy.

But eventually, Molly grew bigger.

And bigger.

And she got stronger.

Until, finally, Lucy realized that she could no longer beat Molly up and so Lucy reluctantly accepted that they had become a family.

Even though no one had asked her.

Years went by and Lucy began to tolerate Big Molly.  And just when she thought she had accepted the unwilling expansion of the family, something odd began to happen to Katie.

And Lucy’s world, once again, changed.

Today, Lucy lives a much different life.  Gone are the days of sleeping in Katie’s bed.  Gone are the extra long belly rubs and table scraps eaten right off the plate.  Gone are the quiet hours of solitude and leisurely strolls through the park.  Now, Lucy’s days are filled with loud shrieks from The Wee One and the occasional playful harassment from Big Molly.  Now, Lucy climbs to the highest point in the house to escape the waving golf clubs and the violently wagging tail of Big Molly.  Now, Lucy crawls into a dog bed at the end of the day.

Like an animal.

Occasionally, late at night after everyone has gone to sleep, Katie will pull Lucy into her lap on the couch and the two of them will curl up watching Top Chef and The Real Housewives while Katie absentmindedly rubs Lucy’s belly and ears.  And as they sit there together in the quiet of the house, it is almost easy for Lucy to pretend that life is like it was before.

…Until she wakes up to Big Molly’s big wet tongue on the side of her face and The Wee One throwing Cheerios at her.

Reality is such a rude awakening.

I’ve been working on the first few chapters of my book as part of my book proposal and it has brought back some really fun memories from the early years of my marriage, including this story from my honeymoon!

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Unlike our wedding day, the honeymoon seemed to last forever.  We spent the entire time on the beaches of St. Maartin in the Caribbean, some days only moving when we walked out to the water for a dip.  We did venture out one evening on a sunset booze cruise around the island.  There were a lot of college kids partying it up on the main deck of the boat, so Chris and I went up to the second level where the boat captain was perched not far away.  We struck up a conversation with him about a life as a boat captain.  He said he was from Seattle, but spent his summers down in the islands giving charter cruises to honeymooners.

“What you guys really need to do,” he told us, “is have one of the locals take you to the strip beach.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Its this small beach only accessible by boat.  Not too many tourists know about it, so you have to find a local with a boat who can take you out there.”

The next day as we took a lunch break from sitting on the beach, we asked our waiter who was a local boy about eighteen years old if he knew about the strip of beach the captain had mentioned.  He knew right away what we were talking about and told us about a dock we could get to by taxi.

“You take a cab there and a boat will meet you,” he said in his heavy island accent.

So we left the restaurant and caught a cab to where the boy had described.

It was in the middle of nowhere. I mean, nowhere. There were sand dunes and seashells and that was about it.

Oh, and there was a little dock.  A tiny, little dock that looked like it might fall into the ocean if someone stepped on it.  Cautiously, Chris paid the cab driver, who laughed at the horrified looks on our faces and drove away.

LEAVING US STANDING ALONE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE.

“This is how stupid Americans end up on the news back home, you know,” I told Chris.

But before he could respond, we both looked out to the water as the sound of a small boat drifted up to us on the dock.  Inside the boat was a little boy.

Seriously.  He was, like, ten.

When he docked his boat, he didn’t even ask us where we wanted to go.

“Twenty-five dollars,” was all he said.

Chris groaned and started to complain, but I shot him one of those looks.  Those looks that say, “Don’t piss off the only person who knows we are alive at the moment.”

We carefully stepped into his boat and attempted to tell him where we wanted to go, but he had already started moving away from the dock and it was obvious that this boat had only one destination.

Fifteen minutes later, as we turned a corner into a small lagoon, I actually gasped out loud at what I saw.

There it was.  A strip of beach, just like the captain had said.

It was nestled along this small island about half a mile off the coast of one of the most popular beaches on St. Maartin.  This beach had no tourists on it.  In fact, it didn’t have much of anything on it.  There was a small little cabana with an old refrigerator, an old grill, and an even older bar tender.  There were also about ten large, covered beach lounges that were available for rent at the cabana house.  And that was it.  No restaurant.  No bathroom.  No hotels.  And no tourists.  It was just us.

And about fifteen women.

Fifteen strikingly beautiful women.

Fifteen abnormally tall, thin strikingly beautiful women.

Fifteen naked abnormally tall, thin strikingly beautiful women.

Aw, crap…

Chris’ mouth dropped to the beach sand as he realized who our beach neighbors were.

“Th…th…those women aren’t wearing any cl…cl…clothes…” he stuttered.  Like an idiot.  Like an idiot who was on his honeymoon with his brand spankin’ new wife.

“Oh, really?  I hadn’t noticed because my eyes were blinded by the sun bouncing off of their INCREDIBLY LARGE BOOBS.”

As Chris and I settled into our rented beach loungers, I did anything I could think of to avoid having to take off my bathing suit cover up in front of these Amazon beauty queens WHO WERE NOW FROLICKING IN THE WATER TOGETHER.

Perfect.  Just what every newlywedded woman wants to see on her honeymoon.  Perfect specimens of the female sex frolicking naked in the water in front of her new husband.

Finally, I stripped down to my bikini and quickly jumped into my chair to hide under my ridiculous over-sized sunhat and over-sized sunglasses.  Not that it mattered.  I could have shot off flares on that island and Chris wouldn’t have even noticed.  He would have continued to sit there in his beach chair, “reading his magazine.”  Upside down.  And in French.

Typical.

After an hour of baking in the hot sun, I decided to jump in the water for a little bit.  Chris and I swam out to a close sand bar and sat down, burying our feet in the sand and enjoying the cool ocean water lapping around us.

“So…do you wanna go skinny dipping?” I laughed.

“No!” he responded, completely serious.

“Oh, come on!  Why not?  Those women don’t care!  Look at them!”

Chris looked back in time to see one of the Amazons rise up off her beach chair and shake out her towel before laying back down on her stomach, leaving her perfectly round cheeks glowing in the sunshine.

“No,” Chris said.  “Definitely not.”

“You’re such a wimp.”

“No, I’m not.  I just don’t want to get sunburned.  Can you think of anything worse than burning your…you know… on your HONEYMOON?”

“Hmmm….” I thought for a minute.  “I guess not.  Better keep your pants on.”

“That’s what I thought.”

And I giggled at how easily Chris and I could slip between talking as husband and wife on a romantic honeymoon and talking as best friends who were concerned about sun burning their nether regions.

We stayed on the beach for the rest of the afternoon, alternating between our beach loungers and the sand bar and drinking Mai Tais.  Later as the sun was just starting to lower, our tiny adolescent boat captain came puttering into the lagoon again.  We jumped on-board and caught the most beautiful sunset on our way back to our tourist-filled resort where everyone wore some sort of clothing and all could be right in my world again.

The rest of our honeymoon went by like a dream.  The weather was beautiful the whole trip, but on our last full day the heavens opened up and poured rain all day long.  Chris and I splashed through the rain and puddles up to the small grocery store on the resort property, where we bought two six packs of Caribbean beer and a big bag of pretzels.

We spent the rest of the day in our hotel room, drinking beer, eating pretzels, and watching The Price is Right.  I remember thinking as Chris yelled the price of a tube of toothpaste at the television that this is what I hoped it would be like when we were 80.

When Chris and I were married five years ago, we got traditional wedding proofs from our fabulous Pensacola photographer Barrett McClean.  And, of course, we ordered a ton for ourselves and our families.  But we have never had the electronic versions of the photos so I have never been able to share them with anyone (unless you count the ones we scanned in, but those are pretty crappy quality).

On our fifth anniversary last week, my mom surprised Chris and I with the perfect gift.  She had tracked down our photographer and bought the rights and the digital photos from our wedding.  A lot of the photos were film and we haven’t had those digitized yet, so some of them are still missing – like my bridal portraits.  But I am too excited about them to wait and I thought I’d share a few with you today.  All this talk about our marriage and our family and our relationship, I figure you should see where we started.

The room where the bridesmaids and I waited in the church didn’t have the air conditioning turned on for some reason, so all the girls danced to air out and keep from sweating through their dresses.  It’s one of my favorite memories from that day.

My bridesmaids (left to right): Emily (my BFF), Abby (my cousin), Annie (Chris’ sister), Ginny (my sister and the Maid of Honor), and Sarah (one of my closet friends since 6th grade)

After the wedding guests had been seated, we moved over to the sanctuary and slipped into a large mirrored bathroom specifically designed to hold waiting brides.  We waited here while the groomsmen and Chris came into the church.  And this was where my mom and sister helped me adjust my veil before I headed down the aisle with my dad.

And before I knew it, I was walking down the aisle of my hometown church towards my hometown sweetheart.

See those big plants on stands up there?  We moved those closer together for portraits before the ceremony and no one moved them back afterwards, so through the entire service, the wedding party had to peer around these giant plant stands.

See what I mean?

20-minutes later, they pronounced us husband and wife and we were off!  This is my favorite picture from my wedding day.  I just love how happy and hopeful we look walking out into the world together.  Since my wedding, this is the picture I love from all weddings.  Such happy, happy people when you walk back down the aisle together.

After the ceremony we waited around the church while formal portraits were taken.  Most of those were done in film and so we don’t have those yet, but we have a few…

See that handkerchief in my hand?  That was carried by my mom, my aunt, me, and my sister on our wedding days.  We each have our monogram on it with our wedding date.

This one is almost a good one of the groomsmen, but they cut off Gary on the right. The groomsmen are (from left to right): Joe (one of Chris’ college roommates), Scott (another college roommate – the three of them lived together for a long time), Justin (the best man and Chris’ best friend since elementary school), Brett (one of our closet friends since high school), and Gary (another close friend since high school).

After pictures, the wedding party took a trolley over to the wedding reception.  Our reception was at the Pensacola Cultural Center in the lobby and banquet room of the theater where Chris and I first started dating when we were 15 years old.  We were both in a school play and we started dating during one of the rehearsals for the show.  It just seemed like the perfect place to get married.

That’s my Mom and Dad being announced at the reception.  Don’t they look so good?!?!

That’s the Best Man and the Maid of Honor coming in together.

That’s me and my Mom celebrating that the wedding planning is OVER!

We ran out of the reception and into our getaway car through a sea of sparklers.  Those pictures are gorgeous, but they are on the film so we don’t have them yet.  But I do have this one last cheesy picture taken of us as we were about to drive off.  I would say that my smile is just ridiculously corny, but that is the same smile from all of my pictures when I was a little girl – just perfect, complete happiness.

When we get the film pictures digitized, I’ll do another post with all our formal portraits.  But at least you can see what our wedding day looked like.

It’s been five years since then and I think I still have that corny, ridiculously happy smile on my face.  Even on days when I’m upset or mad or homesick or frustrated – that smile is never far beneath the surface.  I guess that’s what you get when you marry your best friend.