So the time has come and passed, and I am finally married. That's still weird to think... or say. "I'm married." "I'm her husband."
Exciting stuff. The wedding itself was one hell of a celebration. Ceremony was beautiful. Kelly was even more beautiful (like a damn princess out of a movie). Having all my closest friends around was awesome. Some guys joke around that weddings feel like the end of a free life, but my wedding had this great vibe or mood to it. It felt like the start of something new and fantastic. And I loved the fact that everyone had a great time at the reception.
Because when crazy Chris gets married, it's time to rock the house with fucking delicious food by the tons and with dancing never before seen by the eyes of man, woman, or child. Not to say I'm any good at dancing, but there were certainly plenty of people who were. For anyone who was as dancing-challenged (danci-capped, as I call it) as me, well, they still came out on the dance floor and had a good time.
The wedding cake was another point of splendor. Tasted great. Looked great. Tasted great. And it also tasted great. The groom's cake with the UGA motif was bad ass, and I loved the way a random "gooooooo dawgs" chant started up.
All in all, good times and lots of laughter.
The honeymoon also did well to keep the marriage roaring ahead at full steam. I will say, the hotel had great views of the ocean and set a very romantic, tropical atmosphere. And since it was all-inclusive, we could have as much booze or snacks out of our mini-fridge as we wanted. Order room service at any time of the day or night? All free. Go to any of their seven restaurants? Free. Take a tour of some Mayan ruins? Not enslaved, but it was emancipated to a level of freedom.
Fun Fact: Iguanas are all over the place if you are (1) near rocks and (2) close to the beach. They seem to run away when approached though.
While me and Kell had a great time, we did come to an agreement that our next vacation would be either inside the US or to an English-speaking country. Now the hotel staff did speak English. Hell, a lot of them spoke it fluently. But some of them spoke it very fast with a heavy accent. I'd sometimes get calls on my room phone from guest services... and to this day I have no clue what they were saying. "Yadda yadda yadda yadda sir yadda yadda room yadda yadda yadda, ok?"
To which I would respond, "Uhhh, sounds good."
Can't blame them though. They're trying to speak a language other than their native tongue. Lord knows that I took about 8 years of French and still sound like a brain-damaged drunk trying to speak it. So hats off to the hotel staff. They did their best and often succeeded.
Fun Fact: Mayans are the Mexicans of Mexico. They leave their poor, rural villages and head to the wealthier cities where they work in construction. After earning enough money, they head back home to spend it with their families.
And was booze ever plentiful. If you're just sitting around without a drink, someone will come and find you and offer you alcohol. Remember... it's all free. I'm no big drinker, but I drank something alcoholic every day I was down there. It's just hard to pass up when there's a bar area every 40 feet.
Also, me and Kell made sure to catch the BCS championship game. We saw most of the first half down in a lounge area and there were a good number of other people watching too. This one guy (and I presume his newly wed wife) had sombreros with "Ohio" written all over them.
When Ohio scored its second (and last) touchdown, he threw down his hat in the middle of the crowded lounge and proceeded to do a Mexican hat dance around the thing. Now THAT is fucking team devotion, especially since 90% of the other people seemed to be rooting for Florida.
Ah well. At least an SEC team won the championship and won convincingly. Even though having that team be Florida is a damned shame that sends a collective shiver down the spines of the Bulldawg Nation members across the globe.
