The hubs flew in on Friday evening and we did our usual Cheesecake Factory dinner (I was good and ordered the Skinny-lious Grilled Salmon).
I told the hubs I wanted to celebrate by going to the dog beach on Sunday. We could be qualified as crazy dog people, as the hubs pointed out that we drove 4 hours (round-trip) to just to take the dogs to a beach.
After a couple hours of running around, throwing balls and trying to dodge herds of sprinting canines, we packed up the pups and made a quick errand to Ft. Myers (more to come on that in the future). The “quick errand” took two hours, and by the time we stopped to fill up for gas and head back across Alligator Alley it was already 6:30p.
Noticing the time, and the fact that it would take two hours to get back home, and with no desire to eat a full meal at nine o’clock at night, we opted for a little more of a non-traditional anniversary meal.
We finally got home, bathed the dogs, and cleaned up a bit, then it was time to do something a little more traditional.
The top layer was a bit frost-bit. But the hummingbird cake was AH-MAZING!
We used A Spoon Fulla Sugar, and I highly recommend them. I am a die-hard BonBonerie fan, but I do believe that Spoon Fulla Sugar could claim the prize in my eye (or tummy).
To recap: our very first wedding anniversary involved no exchanging of cards, no flowers, no gifts, no romantic dinners and no champagne. Though a majority of the reason we didn’t plan a fancy dinner was due to my competition diet, but even if I wasn’t on a diet, I don’t believe I would change a thing.
I am not really the white wedding dress type. If you remember I had an issue with the dress I wore on my wedding day. I ordered another dress last minute, but ultimately I wore the original for my mom.
At first I was angry I never had the “This is my dress” experience, but I now wonder if I would have ever had that anyway. I feel much more comfortable in jeans, and multiple times throughout the wedding planning process, I begged Mark to convince me to elope so I could get married in shorts and cowboy boots rather than a beaded, full-length, fit-and-flare.
Without going into a long diatribe about weddings, I will be short in saying, I’m so glad the wedding is over and we are celebrating our first year of marriage.
Of course, a year into our marriage, we have to be a bit reflective. On the drive back to Miami, Mark and I talked about where we had imagined our lives to take us. I told him I was supposed to be in D.C., dating or married to the young-Republican type who works long hours kissing politicians asses so he can one day campaign on his own. Everyday he wears a suit and tie and polished shoes. I too was to be working in politics, or my towards law degree.
Instead I married a twice-immigrated yacht captain, who spends all day in shorts and T-shirts. And while he does clean up nicely, I’m lucky if he puts on flip-flops, let alone slacks. And I quit my job, worked on a boat, moved to Miami and am pursuing a degree where most of the people I am in class with are a bit more liberal and hippie than I am use too.
To say that God has a sense of humor is an understatement. I say Mark is not the man of my dreams, because I could never dream up someone and something this perfect. Despite feeling a bit uneasy about the future at the time, I truly believe we are in God’s good graces, and I am looking forward to year number two!
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