Weddingbee Blog

Have you guys all been a bridesmaid in a friend or family member’s wedding? I’m just asking because I haven’t. And honestly, I sort of feel like that unpopular girl in high school who listed ’spending time with pets’ as one of her favorite activities in our senior bios (true story) about the situation, which is a bit pathetic on my part.

I know, I know, you’re probably thinking to yourself, ‘Trail Mix, you dummy, being a bridesmaid ain’t all that it’s cracked up to be.’ I know that. I know there are still a lot of brides who make ridiculous requests of their ’maids, like choosing a hot pink, floor-length satin dress with a black lace corset top (another true story. And the dress really was as heinous as it sounds.)

But…I still want to be a bridesmaid…like, really really badly.
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Ahhhhh, yes, now where was I? Oh, that’s right, I just finished telling you about our kick-a$$ bonfire the night before the wedding. Suffice to say, it took this bride a little longer than usual to feel like her normal, sunshine-y self the next morning.

But I did finally manage to drag myself out of bed because I had made plans with some friends to go for a short run in the morning. This was an awesome way to start our wedding day, even though some of us struggled more than others. It also started to rain while we were out and the optimistic, naive part of my brain was still convinced it would clear up by the afternoon. HA.

After the run and a delish, communal breakfast of french toast and fritattas with everyone, thanks to our awesome bed and breakfast (Shaker Meadows), the time had come for my “bridal transformation.” (Snicker.)

Now, here’s the deal with me and makeup:
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So, in case you’re not up to date with all my whining about the weather on our wedding day, here’s the back story: The weather forecast went from 80 degrees, sunny, and a zero percent chance of rain at eight days out to showers and a 70% chance of rain the day before. Oh, crap.

Because of this, we realized that the chances of us hosting our after-party bonfire were pretty much slim-to-none. So, “F%*k it,” we said, “We’ll have the damn bonfire the night before and if by some miracle the rain holds out, we’ll do it all over again the next night.”

For the record, it did rain (hard) the following night so I’m mighty thankful we got to do our campfire the night before the wedding (although the thought of having four boxes of leftover Hershey’s chocolate bars did make me briefly consider canning the whole event. But only for a second).

So at the rehearsal dinner, we spread the word that there would be a bonfire at our bed and breakfast afterwards and everyone should come hang out, drink beers, make s’mores and get a little dirty.

Honestly, this was one of my favorite parts of the entire wedding weekend.
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Ugggggh, you guys. I just left a message for a friend who shared some exciting news (she’s moving in with her boyfriend) via email while I was on my honeymoon. You know, the honeymoon that I took back in June. And it’s now the middle of August and I just called her.

I know for some of you this may not be a huge deal (hey, at least I did finally call, right?) but for me, it’s a Biggie, Biggie, Biggie. (Can’t you see? Sometimes your words just hypnotize me. An I just love yo’ flashy ways, I guess that’s why they broke and yo’ so paid… Sorry, sometimes early ’90s rap just speaks to me. Anyone? Anyone?)

Anyways, my girlfriends are my life support, my allies, my therapists, my sounding boards and I pride myself on being a very, very good friend.

With my high school friends at our wedding… We couldn’t quite get it together to smile for the photographer but I love this picture even more the way it is…

For the past five years that Mr Trail Mix and I have been together, spending time with my friends has been a major priority.
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OK, friends, I need your help with this one. First of all, here’s quick rundown of the situation. Mr Trail Mix and I are attending a wedding in September on Cape Cod and the reception is going to be in a tent. Since I was on such a dress-buying binge before my own wedding this past June, I made myself promise not to buy a new dress for the rest of the year (I will totally admit, I have quite the dress collection.).

Shoes, however, are another whooooole ballgame. Yesterday, I went to consign some clothing, which is a great way to streamline your closet and make a few bucks! Peeps in the Northeast, check out Second Time Around, which has branches all over New England, New York and DC, it’s my favorite!

Anyways, while I was dropping of my clothes, I noticed a certain pair of shoes. They happened to be wedges, which would be perfect for an outdoor wedding. Oh yeah, and they were Jimmy Choo. (I’m a label-whore, I totally admit it!)

So there they were, this beautiful pair of wedge Jimmys that happened to be in my size and that happened to be on sale…

You know where this story is going. Of course, I bought the dang shoes…
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We practiced processing and recessing, signed our ketubah, said a few prayers and finally, the rehearsal was over, which meant only one thing: It was time for the rehearsal dinner!

I didn’t talk much about the rehearsal dinner during the planning process for a few reasons. Mostly because it was FMIL Trail Mix who handled everything, and other than choosing an invitation card as part of our invite suite, I didn’t have to do a damn thing. Which, for my over-saturated, much-addled bride-brain, was pretty much the best thing ever.

I don’t know if you remember our engagement party (you can refresh your memory here) but it was so awesome that I knew the rehearsal dinner was in good, good hands. In short, when the Trail Mix in-laws throw a party, they throw a party! Much thanks to the both of them for an incredible pre-wedding shindig!

Because about three-quarters of our guests were from out-of-town, many flying in from Miami (Mr TM’s family is from there), my Trail Mix in-laws were adamant about inviting all OOT guests to the dinner as thank-you gesture for coming so far to celebrate our wedding.

I’ll admit, when I first heard our rehearsal dinner was going to be pushing 120 guests, I was a bit concerned.

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Just a few musings on the day of our two-month wedding anniversary (which, technically, was yesterday but I got confused because I thought yesterday was Wednesday, when it was actually Thursday. Things like paying attention to the day of the week get a little hazy when you’re on summer vacation, forgive me… )

Anyways, first of all, whatthebejeejaholyheckin’ whaaaaaaat? It’s really been two whole months since our wedding? I think back to when I was two months out and feeling like the wedding was still forever away and now these past two months since have flown right by in the blink of an eye (and it ain’t no lie, … Heehee, I’m a poet and I know it).

Craziness, right? But I have to say. I totally thought I would be really sad once the wedding was over and assumed I would have a mild case of post-wedding depression, because I’m an emotional basket case and cry at those Mastercard “Priceless” commercials, so obviously one would think I’d be a complete mess when something as major as my wedding was over.
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Oh yeah, you guys, you know what this means? I’m jumping on the recap train all the way down to Chinatown. It might take me a while to get through everything but I want to show you every nitty gritty detail of our wedding weekend (if you can stand it. If not, just skim and ooh and ahh at the pics, it’s cool, I get it.).

Also, just for reference, the tag line “All My Love, All My Life” is Mr Trail Mix’s family saying. It was started by his grandparents way back in the day and everyone in the family (aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.) sign all their emails and birthday cards with it, it’s engraved on our wedding bands and we incorporated the phrase into our homemade vows. I love it to pieces and it’s a perfect way to set the stage for our rainy, crazy, lovely weekend.

OK, ready now? Here. We. GO!
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Okey dokey, this is my last honeymoon post!

Although we gladly would have stayed another week relaxing on the beautiful beaches of Los Roques, adventure was calling our name and so we embarked on the second half of our Venezuelan trip.

It took us three different planes to get to Canaima, the tiny indigenous village in the southern part of the country. The village is only accessible by plane; there are no roads because it is too remote and it would be too dangerous to try and drive from the nearest big city, even if there were roads.

So we took a plane that looked like this:

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I last left off our honeymoon recaps with a general description of our time in Los Roques Parque Nacional in Venezuela. To sum up the last two posts? Total awesomeness.

And since I’ve realized that writing detailed recaps are not really my strong suit in the blogging department, Imma let the pictures do most of the talking and show off some of the cooler things we saw/did during our 5 days in Los Roques.

First off, it was fish central. Bone fish, barracudas, squirrel fish and parrot fish, to name a few, abound. (Also, lest you think I am a dorky, fish-freak who knows all these names and species, let me assure you I am not. It’s Mr Trail Mix who is supplying me with all these names. He’s the fish-freak!)

Here’s a shot I got of a trumpet fish we found while traversing the shallow waters of one of the islands…

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I was having brunch a few days ago with Mr Trail Mix and several of our friends, a few of whom are engaged. The subject of wedding bands came up and one of his friend’s fiances asked to see mine. I eagerly raised my hand (come on, you know you all love to show off the bling, I’m not the only one!), only to sheepishly lower it when I realized that I had forgotten to put on my rings that morning. And then to make matters worse, when the subject turned to men’s wedding bands, we all realized that Mr Trail Mix’s hand was naked too! (In his defense, it’s at the jewelers getting resized. But still…)

So there we were, a couple of newlyweds not even married a month, and neither of us were wearing our wedding rings. We did get a few raised eyebrows and surprised looks when I explained that I don’t wear my set that often, to be honest. When I’m sleeping, cooking, cleaning or running, I take them off. When I take a shower or go swimming, I take them off. Sometimes, I just wear one band (I have two bands plus the engagement ring, all different) because it’s easier, especially in this New York City humidity, where my fingers resemble plump, Italian sausages. I always wear them when I leave our apartment, except when I forget to put them back on. Which happens, sadly, more often than I would like to admit.

Back at brunch, one of Mr TM’s friend’s commented that she never takes hers off, ever.
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We survived our tiny, scary plane ride and arrived in Los Roques Parque Nacional, ready for five days of sun, fun and relaxation and we were not disappointed in any way. In fact, it was pretty damn near perfect.

Our routine went basically like this… wake up, watch the first World Cup game with a bunch of crazy Europeans and eat a delicious, home-cooked breakfast of eggs, bread, arepas, churros, etc. (Breakfast was definitely one of the highlights of my day, it was SO good! And they served Pepsi at breakfast, which may not be the healthiest option to start off one’s day but hey, I was on my honeymoon and Pepsi at 7:30 AM held a slightly trashy appeal. )

After stuffing our faces and gathering up all our beach gear, we would head for the docks in town. Once there, we boarded our posada’s speed boat (posada is the Spanish term for “inn”) and were driven to one of the many, many little islands that form the archipelago of Los Roques.

Since all meals were included in our stay, our posada packed us a yum-a-licious picnic lunch of fruit, sandwiches, salad, cookies, beer, soda, water, etc. to take with us in a cooler and once we got to whichever beach we were visiting on that day, one of the workers on the boat would set up an umbrella and two chairs and ask when we would like to be picked up and brought back to the mainland. It was that simple and yes, it was as amazing as it sounds. Ahhhhhh, heaven…

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Allow me to interrupt my honeymoon recaps momentarily to wax poetical on why I love weddings so much. Because I do, I really, really do. And I’m guessing most of you out there love ’em too, or else you wouldn’t be reading this blog and investing so much time and energy into your wedding.

We just got back from a wedding this past weekend, the first one since our own, and it was more fun than a barrel full of chocolate-covered monkeys (truth). While I may have imbibed more than my fair share of adult beverages, embarrassed myself on the dance floor and eaten three cupcakes from the cupcake tower (shhhhhhh, there were still plenty left over and they were mmmm-mmmm good) that’s still not why I love weddings.

I did some thinking on the 4-hour drive back home, still smiling from the fun of the night before. Weddings are a celebration, pure and simple. It’s two people coming together, two families coming together, two lives coming together to become inextricably intertwined. There is no bittersweet in a wedding, only joy, laughter and love. And seriously kids, what is better than that? (The only two things I can think of that even come close are puppies and ice cream. But no, actually, weddings are better than both those things combined.)
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First off, our honeymoon was frickin’ awesome. I still am in awe of the fact that virtually nothing went wrong the entire trip. Given that it was 10-days in a still-developing country (Venezuela) that included six domestic flights on airplanes that, at times, were definitely smaller than an American SUV, I think that’s damn near miraculous.

Here’s the rundown…

We arrived in Caracas around 5:00 pm Venezuelan time and went straight for our hotel. Located about five minutes from the airport, the Hotel Eurobuilding had a beautiful outdoor pool and a delicious restaurant attached. We swam, we relived the wedding, we ate and we slept. It was the perfect start to the trip, allowing us to catch up on some sleep and re-charge. And we were graced with this incredible sunset. Bonus!

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And it’s actually not with my new hubby (although, lord knows I love him too). But before you gasp and wonder what the heck is going on, I’ll explain…

This is the kind of love that gets you up at 5:30 every morning without complaint (OK, maybe a few complaints but only a few), the kind of love that makes you coo and squeal over every new move, a love that even makes picking up poo with a plastic bag somehow adorable.

Yes, I am in love with a dog. And not just any dog, my dog (our dog, sorry, hubs). I’ve never had a dog before, not even when I was growing up. Now we do, and she’s perfect.

So you can tell how happy and proud I am to tell you all that Mr Trail Mix and I adopted an 8-week-old Boston Terrier mix from a rescue shelter called Hugs for Hounds last Friday! She weighs in at 3 pounds, her name is Perri and we’re so in love, it’s not even funny.

I mean, good grief, how could you not love a face like this?
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