Six years

AKA, this might get cheesy and sappy. Forgive me.
Six years ago today, Brad and I were in Jamaica exchanging vows.
We have ahem slightly crazy families, mine more so than his. So we decided that we would get married as far away as possible. Jamaica seemed like a good location.

Brad and I are not traditional people. We [obviously] saw each other the day of the wedding. My dress was off white. Brad did not wear a suit. (But he did wear a $60 tie that I bought him, despite his objections.) I wore a tiara instead of a veil. 

Look how young we look!

Our ceremony was set for early afternoon. We had a late breakfast and then I went to the salon to get my hair done. Brad stayed in the room. He got ready and they were supposed to bring a van around for him and take him down an hour or so before me. 

This is Jamaica, they are in no hurry down there. The catch phrase for this trip was "No problem mon!" Brad gave up and walked because I threw him out of the room. (It wasn't a far walk.) The van did eventually come, I told them he was gone. 

Originally, I wanted to do my own hair. The wedding coordinator there was opposed to this. She made a deal with me that if I used their salon do to my hair, she would help me into my dress. 

She was also late. 

No problem indeed.

I kept running out of our room and staring down strangers walking by wondering if they would point and laugh at the girl in a giant petticoat slip or if they would help out. Eventually, the woman showed up. We threw the dress over my head and hauled butt to the other side of the resort. 

It's not like they could have started without me. But still. 

The ceremony was pretty. Mostly because it took place in a lush setting. I enjoyed it. And I managed not to cry. Or at least that's how I remember it. Brad did not make any jokes like claiming to take me only if I promise to do laundry or something like that. I remember that it was the pastors birthday. (So, happy birthday, where ever you are!)

It was a great day. Afterward we celebrated by getting matching sunburns. (I had previously been hiding in the shade to avoid looking like a lobster in my big day.) I wore the tiara all day. I pretended it was because it had become one with my hair via a shit-ton of bobby pins, but really, I wanted to feel special. 

Later that night we saw another wedding party, they were surrounded by friends and family. The bride was dancing in her dress. Brad and I were walking by to go to a show. And while their giant party made me a bit forlorn, I was still happy with our decision. 

I was recently reminded of the delicate nature of marriage. The way I look at it, it's me and Brad against the world. We've been together now for ten years, and I couldn't have a better partner in crime. 

Posing at Dunn's River Falls