Romance, Love, and Yada, Yada, Yada

So this past weekend my friends and I traveled to the Texas Hill Country for what was sure to be a cute, lil, cowboy wedding. A few of us stayed in a local Bed & Breakfast, home to Lisa and Claude, two of the most attentive and nicest people around. We laughed at the thought of sheer terror that must have raced across their mind as 5 very chatty 20-something girls walked into their home with hanging clothes and rolling luggage for a short weekend getaway. If anything, we were mere educators to Claude...

“Claude, meet High Maintenance.”
Claude: “Nice to meet you, Ms. Maintenance.”

Anyway, the weekend was an adventure in babysitting as we all leaned on each other for moral support. When one person would start dragging from fatigue, there we would be with pretzels dipped in peanut butter, hardened bread soaked in oil, or a Dairy Queen blizzard with extra cookie dough bits for recovery – lifelines for a female weekend. Bailey and I joked as we honeymooned in the “American Beauty” room on the second floor of the B&B that we felt like teenagers in this strange house. I say strange, only because this was my first glimpse into non-hotel traveling. While going through our introductory tour I couldn’t help but ask Lisa about the house rules in regard to curfew...that’s right, I stared this grown woman in the face and asked her “if there was...like...a curfew?” Not one of my finer (or brighter) moments, but I was quick to say that I just could NOT get comfortable in this Jumanji house. It felt like everywhere I turned there was a doily here, an afghan there, like I had just stepped into a sweet old lady’s home for the weekend. Anyway, they couldn’t have been more hospitable with their freshly brewed coffee, homemade chocolate chip cookies and decanter of local wine – all of which, quickly put me to ease. While a few of us stayed in the Jumanji house, the rest of the girls stayed in the La Quinta.

The fleet of Tahoe's that got us to-and-fro blazed the trail between the two of our stays throughout the weekend. Personally, I feel that some of our finer moments happened in those cars. Lest we forget jamming out to “Check Yes or No” while coming back from our chicken fried steak dinner on Friday night, singing the Glee soundtrack in its almost entirety on the way to the ceremony or, better yet, jamming out to Mariah Carey in line for DQ Blizzards post-ceremony. Really, the behind the scene moments are always what makes these short little weekend getaways worthwhile.

Love, nuptials, and a lifetime commitment aside, we’re the gals that keep things light. Leave it to us to be the first ones in line for the pork tenderloin buffet or the date-less attendees that have no shame in swinging a few 8th graders around the bluegrass dance floor, because in all of the weddings that we’ve attended together we’ve held to the same mantra – if you attend, attend with gusto. We gave our love to the happy couple and watched them glide across the dance floor like two love-drunk puppies. In an effort to get the perfect first dance shot I managed to get about 10 sequential photos of the back of their heads. There the sweet shot would be, I’d snap the camera and...boom, terrible angle. I finally gave up and settled for an across-the-dance floor Chi O pose with Bailey, only to realize that we were backwards and instead of switching hand gestures, we tried to switch places. I realize that this mental picture isn’t quite as funny not having been there, but the beauty of it did not lie in the fact that we’re not very smart, but more so in the fact that it was likely captured by the wedding videographer. The good news is that the anger that Katie and Nate will feel towards our goofing off during their special moment will be erased by the fact that we’re semi-idiots.

The weekend ended with us wearily recapping our experiences, turning the heat up to a toasty 73 degrees before bed and bidding farewell to the Jumanji B&B. The next morning, we were all on the same page of breakfast tacos and a quick return to the big City as we blazed Northbound I-35. Nothing beats home after a fun-filled weekend, but then again, nothing beats a good wedding story.

My first dance photography attempts:

A small glimpse into who we are*:


*Thank you to the unnamed boyfriend for all of the "candid" shots. Ahem, you know who you are...