Love Story: Part 1 - Pregame

Our wedding photos are on their way, so I figured I better start this gig before I get so backed up I don't know what to do with myself.

As my family all learned at our rehearsal dinner, I have no gift for parsimony and my version of the story is incredibly detailed. I get it from my mother, so you can blame her (love you mom!). And so it begins.

Sometime before May 2009, my dear friend Lorianne asked me if I would take on the task of catering her wedding which would be in the Washington DC temple Memorial Day weekend. Lorianne and I, along with our friends Wendy and Becca, spent quite a bit of time back in the day planning and executing parties. They weren't just any kind of parties. These were big ones.

Lorianne's idea was that it would be a great send off for her into married life to get the band back together and throw a last hurrah. I had moved back to Utah and was having a difficult time finding full-time employment. With nothing really to hold me back from accepting the "job" I decided to go out early to help out the entire week prior to the big day. While looking for flights, I noticed several connected through Chicago where my oldest brother, SIL, and their two kiddos were living at the time. Why not go out even earlier, spend some time with them, and then continue on to DC? And while I was at it, I might as well tack on some time at the end and participate in the infamous Duck Beach single Mormon extravaganza. It is, after all, pretty much a cultural rite of passage.

I had been doing some freelance graphic design to "pay the bills" and was working on a piece for a client at the airport while waiting for my flight to Chi-town. I heard the announcement that they had oversold the flight and were asking for volunteers to be bumped, but didn't pay much attention to it. I've always been more of a "destination" girl--I just want to get where I'm going. When they gate agent made a second announcement, for some reason I thought, "why not?" So I approached the desk and said I could go on the later flight. Not only did I get a voucher for $200 + the cost of my ticket, it actually ended up working better with my brother's schedule and he was able to pick me up rather than me taking a cab.

The weekend with the munchkins was so fun, I got some much needed bro time, and whenever I spend time with my SIL I admire her more & more (she's such a great mom). I flew to BWI on Tuesday and thus commenced a crazy week of food preparations and wedding event planning bliss! I have never seen my feet as swollen as I did after the reception was over Saturday night—I didn't even recognize them as my own. After the clean up, round about 1 am, I piled in a car with three other wedding guests and drove down to Outer Banks, NC serenaded by really bad, futuristic sound effects from a Star Trek marathon.

Duck started out rough, but by Monday I was wishing I had more time at the beach. My flight home was scheduled to depart on Wednesday morning from Dulles. I would need to find a ride back to DC sometime on Tuesday in order to make it--bad planning on my part. After an arduous decision making process, I changed my flight to Saturday evening, giving me until Friday at the beach.

I was immediately glad that I decided to stay. It was so relaxing and fun to spend my birthday with new friends and some long-time ones just chilling—no worries (I even talked my way out of a speeding ticket on the way back from the airport). We packed up, cleaned up and headed out on one of the most humid days I had experienced to that point. I was foolishly wearing jeans, sweating like a piglet. The ride back to Virginia, where I would be crashing at Wendy's place after a little post-Duck house get-together at the home of my new friend and chauffer, Dave Marble (I only use his last name because he's somewhat of a legend), was only mildly better in an un-air conditioned truck. Dave was also kind enough to add my birthday to the facebook invite for the party, celebrating five birthdays and a going away party for this solider who was deploying to Iraq the next week.

As we were pulling in to VA (did you know Virginia is for lovers?), I experienced my first east coast "thunderstorm". The heavens opened up and poured inches of rain on the roads, the windshield, and eventually us as we rushed to unburden the bed of the truck of its left-over Duck food and paper products. I was a salty, drenched mess. Since my luggage did not fit in the truck and was traveled in another car I was stuck with the clothes on my back. Little did I know that I was being watched. Trips to the truck and back; finding room for everything in their fridge; being talked into showering in a boys shower and wearing boys clothes while mine dried; coming back up stairs with wet hair and no make-up in baggy cargo pants and a t-shirt. The soldier says in passing, "Hey you're wearing our Halloween costume from last year." At least, I think it was the soldier. My memory is a little blurry from that night.

If you aren't bored out of your mind. Come back tomorrow for the second installment.