Hey, so I am married now. It’s going to take a little getting used to the new last name given that I’ve answered to the same name for 32 years, but I love the sound of it. Of course, the only “official” change I have made is on Facebook, there is still the matter of navigating the arduous task of actually changing it in the eyes of the law, but one thing at a time.
I suppose I should begin this blog just before the big event.
The week leading up to the wedding was busy and exciting. There was shopping, final preparations, a bridal shower thrown for me by my surprisingly generous co-workers, dinner with out of town family, and company in our house. I was blessed to have Friday off which enabled me to take the dogs for one last trip to the park for swimming and a bath before dropping them off with their respective baby-sitters. Aunt Lara had Xander while Aunt Ashley and Uncle Mike had the corgis, which was wonderful considering it allowed me a week of leisure without any worry of their welfare. Thanks again guys!
It was also wonderful to be able to deliver them on Friday afternoon, because I was not home following that time. We all headed out to a place in Mayport that I’d never been to before called Singleton’s Seafood Shack. A shack it was indeed, but perfectly suited for our needs and possessing the delightful sort of character we require in our special events. We held our brief rehearsal in the area neighboring the parking lot, overlooking the water. Inside, the service and food were fantastic, and our table of nearly twenty was set in a room of its own filled with nautical artifacts and conversation starters. Not that we needed any. Our crowd was playfully loud and the room filled with laughter and friendship, even among those who had never met before.
Following dinner, the girls and boys parted ways to commence with the final celebrations of bachelor and bachelorette-hood. The boys apparently did an efficient job of drinking, while I was adorned with the requisite embarrassing accessories befitting a person in my present condition. This involved a tiara, two sashes (one of which was a pose able male stripper we nicknamed Scooter), and an X rated plastic straw from which to drink my cocktails through. My bridesmaids made sure the band was aware of my pending nuptials, and I received a great many congratulations as well as a drunken counter-proposal. Fortunately, we all made it home in one piece, boys and girls alike, although some a little worse for wear than others.
Saturday morning required last minute food shopping as well as picking up our trays of food and cupcakes from Publix. Not to mention generous doses of water and ibuprofen from those of us having indulged the night before. My girls were super heroes in terms of decorating the club house where the reception would be held, and we were showered and prepped in time for Kara to do my hair and head out to the beach.
We were married at Kathryn Abby Hannah Park, the site of our official dating anniversary outing back in 2009. The picturesque boardwalk, wilderness, sand dunes, and waves all contributed to a beautiful back drop for our ceremony. The girls and I remained sequestered in the air conditioning of my Cousin Jane’s car while “Going to the Chapel” played on auto-repeat for nearly an hour as guests arrived and were led into their place on the beach. Once Buster gave the ok to proceed, I was escorted over the boardwalk by my Uncle Gary who gave me away. The moment was perfect as he wore his Hawaiian shirt and straw hat. I looked down at the small but intimate group of assembled friends and family and Gary turned to me and asked offhandedly if I’d heard any good jokes lately. I laughed and told him the only thing I could think, originating from one of Buster’s friends in the days before. Velcro, it’s such a rip-off.
After passing me to Buster and exchanging hugs and handshakes, I faced my husband to be, who had tears in his eyes. This meant I had won the betting pool with my girls, although he had already assured them that it was just the sun in his eyes. The fact that he is a sentimental romantic is just one of the many reasons I was standing before him to begin with.
Our good friend and life-of-the-party, Rob Poole, acted as officiate, with the powers vested to him by the church of spiritual humanism. He delivered the material flawlessly and with great style, as the oceans waves broke behind us. My dress fluttered beautifully in the breeze, and when Rob pronounced us husband and wife, Buster delivered a crowd pleasing dip and kiss that knocked the decorative flower from my hair. The photos are breathtaking and the event could not have been more perfect with a bright blue sky and my handsome man and I standing barefoot in the sand.
His friends Mark and Amanda, professional photographers, were on hand from New York and joined my aunt and cousins in taking photos. I still have not seen them all, but there are certainly some amazing ones. Still, even without pictures, I will never forget the details of May 5, 2012. Cinco De Mayo will never be the same again.
Our reception following was fun and laid back. We had the traditional first dance to “Time of My Life” as Buster is my own Patrick Swayze. I didn’t embarrass myself too much or trip over my dress, so it was fun, although I never realized how long that song was until I had to dance to it in front of a room full of people!
We received a toast from our Best Man and Maid of Honor, Buster’s uncle Matt and my cousin Jane respectively. They were brilliant and perfect and we are so lucky to have them, not to mention ALL of the friends and family who were a part of our day. We cut our little cheesecake and did not smear it in each other’s faces (under the threat of physical violence due to bright blue food coloring). The same food coloring on our guests’ cupcakes resulted in a room full of blue tongues and teeth. I declared that it was a show of solidarity.
We had a picture frame for people to sign, complete with a stock image of man and wife who looked nothing like us, particularly after our guests had drawn mustaches, tattoos, eye patches and other enhancements on the unfortunate pair. We came home to the delightful surprise of an actual wedding photo taken by Mark and Amanda blown up and inserted into the frame. What an incredibly thoughtful gift from our friends whom I had only just met that day.
After the reception, our friend and another of Buster’s groomsmen Tyler, with whom Buster does his scuba diving, drove us to the hotel at the airport. Since our flight was due to depart Sunday morning at 7:30am, we’d decided to stay within a shuttle ride’s distance, so as not to burden anyone for a ride at 5am Sunday morning. Tyler seemed delighted to act as chauffer and was thrilled to be the last to see us before we left. So it all worked out quite well, even though I went to bed hungry from spending too much time visiting guests, and not enough time eating. I was so excited from the events of the day and the prospect of Cozumel, that I read my kindle and played on facebook until the morning rolled around.
Our first day as husband and wife was spent traveling. In spite of Florida’s close proximity to Cozumel, we had to fly to Atlanta first in order to catch a connecting flight to the Yucatan Peninsula. In spite of the long hours and stress of going through security, and now customs due to the international nature of our travels, everything went smoothly and we arrive at the Cozumel Palace Resort by 1:30 their time. (2:30 our time)
Before we even made it to our room, we’d scheduled our week’s activities with the hotel’s planners, as well as receiving a moist towel, a welcome drink, and our honeymooner t-shirts. Upon arrival to our room, we were welcomed with a honeymooner cake, a bottle of champagne and a bottle of wine along with a basket of snacks, a stocked mini fridge and alcohol supply. Our upgraded room was on the fifth floor, with a hammock on the balcony, a hot tub, and a spectacular view of the resort as well as the glorious blue and green ocean.
The resort was all inclusive, meaning that we could have whatever we wanted to eat or drink, whenever and wherever we wanted it. The staff was fantastic, and everything was beautiful and safe. We even made friends with an older couple while swimming in the infinity pool on the first afternoon, and accompanied them to the town for exploration and a little local flavor. Never did we feel unsafe, and due to the island’s dependence on tourism, we didn’t even need the pesos we had procured at the airport. We soon learned that the locals prefer USD!
The week involved snorkeling, swimming with dolphins(me), scuba diving (Buster), massages (us), romantic dinners poolside, water volleyball, scooter riding, lots of eating, and even more drinking. There were nightly activities, a fire show, a Mexican fair, and music to dance to. We learned some Spanish, read a couple of books each, didn’t turn on the tv, took naps and lounged by the water. It was a week of luxury, and although it was hard to come back, I was feeling a bit homesick toward the end.
Saturday was another long day of travel, some culture shock in Atlanta, and a delightful, but one sided conversation with a 79 yr old gentleman who was returning from the 100th birthday celebration of his 4th grade Catholic School teacher, bringing us home after 9:30 for one last quiet night. I picked up the dogs Sunday morning, who to my surprise were as tired as we were from their own vacations! Xander had spent the week playing virtually non-stop with Lara’s dogs and the corgis had spent the week peacefully with Mike and Ashley’s cats, but were relieved to be home as well. Other than laundry and grocery shopping, we all spent the day lying on the couch trying to recover before returning to our normal routine today.
We have a plethora of honeymoon photos thanks largely to Buster, which can be found here: http://www.snapfish.com/snapfish/shareereg/p=968131336939258372/l=4260606026/g=10102282026/cobrandOid=1000/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBFB/pns/snapfish/share/p=968131336939258372/l=4260606026/g=10102282026/cobrandOid=1000/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBFB;jsessionid=B1E2FEEA03B82388CA5229B85317402E
We have a few wedding photos, but are hoping to have more eventually. Those we have are on our Facebook pages. Look for Bonnie Pruett, or my HUSBAND Buster. I never grow tired of noticing the ring on his finger. Sorry ladies, he is one of a kind, and is now officially mine.
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