Catching up, parts three, four, and five: Jamaica again

I would very happily do a day by day of everything that we did in Jamaica. Which would be more than mundane to anybody reading it, but nice for me for the sake of posterity.

The only thing keeping me from that is the fact that my photos are in no kind of order whatsoever.

I tried to keep up on daily happenings while I was in Jamaica, but I couldn't, because the internet isn't really a thing that exists where I stayed. Ultimately, that was perfectly fine, because I wasn't involved in blogging, and I wasn't even involved in school, because I couldn't be. Which is a story for a later time.

Anyway, one of the things Derek and I did on one of these days, and then the subsequent days whenever we could, was go snorkeling on the reef. We swam with moon jellyfish (fucking COOL!), saw a cuttlefish (FUCKING COOL!), brain coral the size of our cars (do I have to say fucking cool again? YES! FUCKING COOL!), urchin, and more sand dollars than I've ever seen in all of the years I went snorkeling in Florida. It was fucking AMAZING. Derek and I contemplated buying underwater housing for our cameras (which would have set us back by about 8 grand, and I decided that was a wasteful expenditure for people who live in a landlocked state), because we knew we'd go snorkeling, but I bought an underwater 35mm instead. I haven't gotten it developed, because I'm lazy and I don't know where to take it. I will soon, though.

The first full day we were there, there was a culture show in the primary dining area of the resort. There were dancers, singers, and instrument players, and it was fucking incredible.

There's that restaurant again, but in daylight! Bayside was so wonderful, and really, it looked quite nice, too. I watched these fantastically huge waves crash against the buildings during the REALLY big storms, but those were way too wet for me to bring my camera out.

This little bar was open from 11:30-5:30, then 10:30 until 5:30. And everything was so delicious. I loved the colors of the place. Unfortunately, I shot a little too far under, but not so far that I mind posting them.

Yeah yeah, man. Fry them crisps.

One of my favorite shots from the entire trip. This was during the culture show I mentioned earlier, doing a traditional dance. His movements were so graceful and perfect, and his muscles were exactly what they should have been. The sweat on his body was an amazing highlight to the lines of his body, and I'm so grateful I got a shot.

There were female dancers, as well. They changed costumes, and were fantastic. I loved the show they put on. I wish I understood everything that they were showcasing for us. Unfortunately, they gave no explanation between acts for what was going on. It's hard to find information on something you have no name for.

The sidewalk to Bayside, during one of the mild thunderstorms.

Oh, hullo, crab that I kept calling Qwab!

There's that silly Qwab again!

Derek and I sat on our balcony, watching this storm roll in. Such a delightful way to end an evening.

Two nights in a row, Derek and I returned to our room to find treats awaiting us. One day, it was sunflower cookies and a bottle of champagne, and the next day it was complimentary spa sessions. We were treated like royalty our entire stay, but it made me feel like a terrible person. Which I will get into in a later post. I had a lengthy discussion with both Derek and Allen about it, so I would like to discuss it here. But not right now.

Catching up, part two: Jamaica, day two

I slept until noon the second day we were in Jamaica. It felt amazing. I woke up quite refreshed, and finally pleased with where I was.

Day two was all about relaxing and exploring our new surroundings. We stayed at Couples Tower Isle, an all-inclusive, adults only resort. It had a private beach, which was, thinking on it now, a detraction rather than a luxury. What I had REALLY hoped for was mingling with locals and finding stunning faces and interesting characters to photograph. One of the things included in our stay...well, several of the things...was excursions. We had a bunch of outside the resort options open to us, and there wasn't enough time to explore them all. Unfortunately, we didn't find out about the best options until it was far too late, and I am still kicking myself for not knowing we could have explored and helped rebuild a local school in Kingston. I found out about that the Friday before we left, and we were leaving Tuesday, so we didn't have time to make the trip.

This is the ocean restaurant that Derek and I fell in love with. It looked GORGEOUS against the backdrop of the dark sky, and I think we spent an hour trying to nail the perfect shot of it.

The first two days were pretty much pure storms. I didn't care one fucking bit. Derek and I did have a bit of a fight when we were out taking lightning shots, but I got this shot before I stormed off (don't just pardon the pun, LOVE IT). It's only the third lightning picture I've ever gotten, so I still have a long ways to go before I'm satisfied with my ability to take them. But I'm pleased with my progress!

Just having some Martinelli's, cooling off from raking the beach. Which he did. Every morning, and every night. I thought it was a fruitless endeavor, because all of the resort goers came out and fucked it up, but it DID make the beach look stunning in the early morning before that happened.

One of the many instructors for one of the many day activities at the resort. Washing himself off.

Conch man!!! This fellow was out every day, selling shells that are completely illegal for people to take home.

Hubs! Who was drunk our entire trip.

In fairness, so was I. We were so drunk that we didn't even feel drunk.

Another employee of the resort, enjoying the amenities. I recognized quite a few people by the time we left, and I came to the assumption that employees were more than welcome to hang out at the resort and do their own thing on their days off. This must have been one of his days off. I hate getting caught taking someone's picture.

The pool! Which was ALWAYS fucking cold, but it looked SO pretty. The very last room on the right side of the shot is my suite. Overlooking the pool and the ocean.

Derek took this shot first. He'd be gratified to know I think he took it better.

Now, nobody would know the difference if I left this next bit out, but these photos are not in daily sequential order. These, I believe, are actually from day three, four, and five, but who the fuck cares?

Catching up: Jamaica, day one

Derek and I went to San Antonio yesterday, and it was an all day trip, and we were fucking exhausted. So exhausted that we got into a super ugly argument five minutes from home, and we didn't speak for three hours (in fairness, we both came home, stalked into separate corners, and took naps). After we woke up and got over ourselves, I cooked us Mongolian Beef with gailan, and we blew through season one of Sherlock. We decided today would be a super lazy day, and it has been. I have been hell bent on perfecting my stuffed brioche french toast, so this morning was chocolate cherry chevre with mixed jam. I have been infusing the eggs with cooked down rum and cooked brown sugar, and holy fuck, this every Sunday indulgence is god damn AMAZING. I haven't gotten it right yet, and I know why. I need a pastry filler. But barring that, it's still fucking delicious, and I'm pretty attached to the Sunday ritual. This American Life, big breakfast, and sitting at our computers drinking our coffee, working on photos. 

Getting back on track, I went to Jamaica a month ago. 

Perhaps this will illustrate how small I truly am as an individual, but I had never before been out of the country. When my passport arrived in the mail, it hit me that going on my honeymoon was far more than enjoying nine days and eight nights of bliss with my husband, it was making my corner of the universe just a tiny bit bigger. I've always said that was the ultimate point of traveling, so it's not like this was a true revelation. And I've also traveled, but only inside of America. I've been to a lot of places and seen a lot of things. But leaving the country was wholly new, and getting my passport was one of the final nails in the coffin that I was really about to become a bigger person. I was so excited. 

I'm terrified of flying right until the plane starts to taxi. About there, I'm resigned to my fate. If I die, I die. It's completely out of my hands, so I might as well enjoy myself until I explode in the sky. My best friend, Amber, had never flown before. Ever. Because her terror of planes far surpasses mine. To the point where she gets irritated by my jokes about how I could totally die on a flight. She went with Derek and I to the airport, because she was going home the same day that we were going to Jamaica. I was a very good girl, and spent the entire four hours we were at the airport without a single joke about dying in transit to Jamaica. 

Amber and I having breakfast, sans death jokes.

Derek and I had two flights to take: Denver to Dallas, and Dallas to Negril.

If I look like I've been crying in that picture, it's because I had been. I was SO FREAKED OUT about flying internationally, despite my excitement about making my wold bigger. Our flights combined were only six hours. I cried for four of them, and slept for the other two. In fact, I worried myself into such a frenzy that I felt sick when we landed in Jamaica. Only a mild sick, though. Going through customs was so fucking COOL for me, and an absolute breeze. I expected it to take at least an hour; it took ten minutes, and that's a generous estimate. 

We had a representative from our resort waiting to escort us to a luxurious lounge area, and this is when the heat and the humidity hit me, and every step I took escalated my feelings of disgusting sick. They offered Derek and I drinks, and I asked for water, and sat down feeling crabby and revolting and anxious and tired. We were informed that we had a two hour drive from the airport to the resort, and I got a bit more green around the gills thinking of the bumpy car ride that the man was explaining to us. The only nice thing that happened on the way from the airport to the resort was the air conditioning in the car. I fell into a tumbling sleep the second I sat down in our (quite posh) transport van. 

When we arrived at the hotel, a very excited Derek and a really heat sick and dehydrated Drea were given the option to take boozy refreshments. Derek took them, I asked for water, and then threw a temper tantrum over having to fill out arrival paperwork. But only internally. I felt more sick by the second, and listening to Derek exclaim over how gorgeous our hotel was (it really fucking was), and how delicious his drink was, and how good the ocean smelled (all true things) only seemed to make it worse. Derek and I walked up to our third floor suite, he went and sat down on the balcony, and I shed my clothes and limply got into bed, hoping I would feel better soon. 

I took a nap, Derek went down to eat, and when I woke up, I was so incredibly thirsty, but also terrified to drink local water. I drank it, anyway. It's not like Colorado water, but it's definitely good enough to drink. 

My hotel room (which was a MASSIVE suite. Fuck yeah! But it's easier to say hotel room, or just room, and it also lowers how god damn pretentious and disgustingly obsessed with status symbols I sound) was comfortably warm, and comfortably humid, and it smelled like the saltiness and slightly fishy undertone of the ocean. In retrospect, I'm so disappointed I felt too sick to enjoy it in that moment. Derek was going on about how he'd walked around the hotel and he was excited to see it in the daylight. 

I turned on Last Week Tonight, and hoped I'd feel better after a full night's rest. 

Thinking back on it now, it was SO disappointing to arrive into a foreign country for the first time and to feel so absolutely miserable. I wanted to exclaim and feel excited, and be totally immersed in the fact that I was so far from home, and I was so far from where I was a member of the status quo. 

But I'd certainly have that moment. I had eight days ahead of me that were full of them. 

He is no less than a stuffed man

Holy. Fucking. FUCK.

It's been a crazy month. Probably the most hectic month I've experienced in years. I have a lot of backlogged blogging to do, so that's a thing.

We received our sneak peek of our wedding photos while we were on our honeymoon. Those details are coming.

I want to post these.

I'm going to be honest, I took screen captures of them. We don't receive the actual copies until Sunday (eee!). I've left the watermark on all of them, except the ones that are from collages. I want Elevate Photography to get every ounce of credit they deserve, because Ryan and Allie and Tyler were fucking AMAZING.

From left to right: Kati, Amber, me, Stevie, and Syb. I am so fucking excited to see the one on one pictures of all of us. You bet your ass I'll be posting those up when I get them, too. Sorry. Just kidding, I'm not.

My handsome daddy. If anybody else has a better daddy, they're wrong. I love my daddy, and I know what a struggle my wedding day was for him. But that's a story for another day.

My husband makes me happy. If that isn't obvious as fuck, that's why I'm telling you.

Who is that? Oh, nobody, just my god damn husband. My hot as fuck husband. Look at that fucking jawline. God damn.

This picture is so much cooler when I don't fuck it up when I rip it off the internet instead of waiting for my copies.

I loved my flowers. I loved everything about that day. Especially all of the drinking! Of which I did a lot of.

I wish I could say this was the first drink I'd had that day. This was immediately after the ceremony. And it was probably my sixth drink. Of the hour.

This is one of my very favorite photos. We look like superheroes. There are the palettes I spoke of in my last post, and they are wobbly. Wobbly as untethered balls. But this shot, and the others that followed, were so worth it.

Never anywhere without my resting bitch face! Even my own wedding. Where I said "shit" after delivering my vows, and also said "I guess" instead of "I do". What the fuck.

This picture, from far away, makes it look like I have black eyes and no teeth. But it's Derek's favorite photo.

A small moment to ourselves before the craziness started. A beautiful moment. God damn, it was an amazing day.

My son. What a silly, wonderful ham. It's been so hard to be away from him. I'm counting down the days until I see him again. Only nine!

"Are we married?" "We're fucking married!" Best conversation to walk down the aisle to after getting hitched.

Our rings. Ryan grabbed a fantastic picture of them.

We'll see the other pictures either Sunday, or a few days after. I think Ryan said he's out of town, so we may have to wait.

It took me too long to grab these photos, and I can't do the preface to eight hundred updates that I'd like.

Derek and I are going to San Antonio tomorrow to spend the day, provided the weather isn't bullshit.

I have to wake up in five hours. Fuck. I'm exhausted. But Derek is home after being away for a week, leaving me in Texas all alone. With nothing to do. No internet. No nothing. But more on that later.

Feel the rhythm, feel the rhyme!

Jamaica, day one.

I was fucking BLASTED this morning, so my husband let me sleep. Until 10. I haven't done that in a long time. We had breakfast delivered to our room, and it was delicious. Honest to god, I've never had bacon that god damn delightful.

After breakfast, we went swimming in the ocean, and I have missed the ocean. It was so fucking tits to float around on the waves, and tool about with Derek. We got coconut water served to us in coconuts, and it was fresh and fantastic and holy fuck, I don't know why I don't live here.

We had lunch, came upstairs, lounged around, and just enjoyed ourselves.

Derek took a nap, I took a shower and blow dried my hair (which is a fruitless endeavor, if I'm being honest. It's so fucking humid that I frizz out after two minutes of stepping out of my room), and then we went and had dinner. I wasn't even hungry, but I had braised oxtail because I fucking could, that's why.

So, I kinda got married.

I got married yesterday.

Well, technically two days ago now, since it's Sunday, according to time. But it still feels like yesterday.

It.

Was.

AMAZING.

I had an amazing night with my ladies on Wednesday (by amazing night I mean we all got fucking shit house wasted and talked until 2:30 am), Thursday was the rehearsal dinner at HuHot (that's where Derek and I had our first date. Having the rehearsal dinner there made so much sense. And it was delicious, so there's that), and then Amber and Kati and I stayed at my wedding suite (which was fucking AWESOME). We all relaxed in the hot tub in my room (topless, obviously, because we're awesome), had a few drinks, ordered a pizza (we were really drunk at this point, so Amber tried to order us pizza from Dallas, Texas), and then we watched Rush Hour. Kati and Amber fell asleep. I Stayed up all night feeling INCREDIBLY unwell and nervous and all around sick and shitty in my tummy.

And then I woke up Friday morning feeling amazing. Amber and I dashed around picking up last minute wedding stuff, went back to the hotel, and got our hair and make up done. Me, Amber, Kati, Stevie, my mom, and Syb had a blast getting all dolled up. Amber, Kati and I left the hotel and drove up to Bella Sera as fast as we could, because I was late. Oops. We changed, and the normal pictures took place. I did first look with Derek, and I can't even make clear how fucking blow-me-away handsome he looked. Holy shit.

We left Bella Sera and drove to a factory site to take our bridal party pictures. We got kicked off of the property, but two hours after we arrived. So really, we're the winners here. I was totally action bride, man. I was jumping in and out of semi-truck trailers, standing on pallets that were precariously balanced, balancing above pools of stagnant water (it smeled atrocious, and there was at least one dead dove floating just under the slick surface. Gross), but these pictures are incredible. We had a gorgeous sneak peek of them at the reception.

From the picture site, we went off and got married. And I had the most GORGEOUS fucking wedding ever. I nearly lost my shit SEVERAL times. How I held it together is unknown to me, but if I started crying, I would have uncontrollably sobbed, so I had to keep it in. I did. Only a couple of tears slipped out.

Forgive the order of pictures here. Blogger is kind of a dick about it.

This was right before we went off and did family photos, right after we got married. I believe my caption for this on facebook was, "I'm married, mother fuckers!" Because I fucking am.

This was at the end of the night. Amber was fucking lit, I wasn't as sober as I claim I was, and I was soaking up time with my hot as fuck best friend. Eighteen years we've been friends. Eighteen. This girl is one of the big loves of my life.

Anali and her fiance came!! We had a great time together. We danced and danced and danced. Tosh danced a lot, too, but we didn't get a selfie together. Which I am eternally bummed about. My friends are beautiful, though!!!

Carl!!!! This fucking guy RULES. His picture with Derek when they did groomsman photos was my favorite picture of them all, because it was hilarious and unexpected. I can't wait to get those. But Carl really stepped up the groomsman game. He was so on it. I love the fuck out of Carl. I'm sad to move to a state where he isn't around to hang out with.

Lordy, we are erotic and supple!! Kati made everything happen to be a bridesmaid at the last minute, and girl really pulled it out for me. I hadn't seen her in three years, and I had missed her terribly. Our picture together was one of my favorites, because she yelled to Ryan, "Hey, we both have physics equations tattooed on us. Can that be in our picture?" and that's what was in our picture. LOVE IT. Love her. She's so special, and I'm legitimately honored to be her friend.

My peaches. My stunning, amazing bestie. Going through a really rough time, personally, and still made me a priority. How much more can you ask for in a bestie? Not much.

I don't know where Amber was for this, or my sister. But these girls were just fine by me.

Our monogram!!!!! It looked amazing. My shitty cell phone doesn't do it justice. But it legitimately happened!!! The lighting says so!!

Right after hair and make up. I'm really bad at selfies if I'm by myself. Technically, Kati is in the shot, so it should be good by virtue of not being just me. Unfortunately, my theory doesn't hold water here.

This handsome mother fucker is my handsome, hot as fuck husband. He's gorgeous and sarcastic and shitty and wonderful and amazing, and all night, he'd lean in and say I was his property. My dad wanted to make it known that if Derek was expecting a dowry, all he had to offer was a goat. I didn't even know my dad had a goat.

He doesn't.

Selfie on the way to the venue. Holy shit. Gettin' murried.

Friday was amazing. I couldn't have had another wedding. I wouldn't have been happy. And Derek being my husband makes me so fantastically pleased.

Today, Amber and I got matching tattoos.

There's mine! I went first. It hurt, but not that bad. 

Both of them together!!

They're the coordinates for where we met. My amazing husband pulled a favor and got us in on literally zero notice, we got a killer deal, and they look fantastic.

I wake up to go to Jamaica in 4 hours. I'm fucking terrified I'm going to die on the way there, or there, or on my way back. I'm so scared. I feel like I don't deserve this much happiness.

I just don't want to die. I want to travel to Jamaica with my husband, sleep in an ocean view suite, have sex, eat food, take pictures, swim in the ocean, come home, pack up, have Thanksgiving, go to Texas, and live my ordinary life with my extraordinary family.

I'm not one for prayer, but I'm as close to praying I get to do that as it gets.

I'm terrified.

We can cook bread and chat about our internal skeletons

It's 11 at night, and I'm just now eating dinner.

Stevie and I had Little Nepal for lunch today. At 12. And I hadn't eaten since.

I read all of my old blogs today. They look deleted, but they're sitting as drafts now. I didn't want to toss out three years of blogging on a whim, and I'm certainly glad I didn't.

I wanted to paint tonight, but I spent too much time dicking around with homework.

Also, I get married in eleven days. What the fuck.

Blog day two, electric boogaloo.

I just returned from my orthopedic surgeon. I got some really bad news.

Fuck.