We did it.
We celebrated our one year anniversary and ate our year old cake. Jk. We didn’t have any cake leftover because the one piece we took home from our reception I smashed in my own face during our after hours party that night. And I don’t regret it because I’m not exactly a fan of frost bitten, one year old cake, even if it is tradition.
The morning after our wedding we woke up exhausted and immediately ordered the entire room service menu. It’s a weird feeling waking up the day after your wedding. It’s like coming out of a slow, foggy dream. You sit there and wonder, did that all really happen last night?
The day before was the most heightened day of nerves and emotion I’d ever felt before, and then poof it was all over. I felt a mix of glee, relief, and a little bit of sadness. It was hard saying good bye to friends and family as they left the resort one by one, cars packed, ready to make the drive down the mountain.
I felt a strange sense of homesickness for everyone I had just spent the week with.
I’ll never forget the feeling when I returned to the penthouse we’d rented the day after everyone had left. Chris was missing sneakers, and me a bathing suit, so I had the maids unlock it for me. I opened the door and it was a completely different space than what I had known for the past five days. What was once a flurry of my favorite people walking in and out, mixing drinks in the kitchen, telling jokes on the couch, blasting music in every room, was now as quiet and cold as a place could be. It felt like returning to summer camp after all of your campmates had gone home. Camp Kammie (what we called the bunk room upstairs) was empty and sad.
I grabbed Chris’s sneakers (which I found in our closet, the same closet where my wedding dress hung hidden away in the back just two days previous) and ran out as fast as possible. I couldn’t get away quick enough.
Finally, I was ready to leave Steamboat. It was time to… HONEYMOON.
Don’t worry, I won’t drag you through our entire honeymoon. It’s suddenly dawned on me I’ve become that annoying aunt who returns home from her Branson vacation and wants to show you her full slideshow of vacation pics while she narrates in the background.
And this is where I got food poisoning. I tell you what, that pulled chicken sandwich may look good, but boy oh boy it did a number on me. Let’s just say I can’t wear those white capris pants ever again if you know what I mean!
I will tell you we got lucky and upgraded to First Class for only $40 more on our flight to Antigua and it was the most luxurious flight of my life! I had a mimosa before we even took off and I will NEVER forget it. I also won’t forget the woman who sat in front of us who bitched the entire flight because,
You’re serving mimosas in a plastic cup?! What are we, zoo animals?! And why is this crab Benedict luke warm? Is this a joke? What next? I suppose you’re going to tell me the toilet seat isn’t made out of gold EITHER?
She was the worst person to ever live. The more mimosas I drank, the more I stewed behind her ready to get up and say something. Lucky for her, I fell asleep.
And I’m about to fall asleep now so I’ll wrap it up. If you want to read more honeymoon recaps, click here or here. Also, Antigua is pronounced An-Tee-Gah, NOT An-Tee-Gwa, as so many people think. And since we’re talking about this, bruschetta is pronounced “bru-sket-ta,” not “bru-schet-ta.” I am the pronunciation police and I will come after you.
*but don’t come after me for my grammar errors because I’m sure you’ll find a lot today as I am feeling extra lazy*