After our fabulously fun wedding celebration, Nic and I flew to Jamaica at 6:30am the next day. That's right folks, we got up at 2:30 in the morning to catch a shuttle at 3:30am, to be at the airport at 4:30am to catch our red-eye flight. Now, if you are under the impression that we were robbed of blissful hours of undisturbed sleep that morning/night, then like us (until we checked into the hotel), you must have been unaware of the Kid Rock concert in town that night. If taking your first international trip with your new spouse in loving cooperation after all of that isn't a true test of yet untried married love, than I'm not sure what is. On the up side, we enjoyed extra slices of our wedding cake for breakfast and survived the sing-along show of our shuttle driver to his favorite country station. All of this now provides good fodder for laughter at this inside joke for Nic and me.
Jamaica was beautiful; we snorkeled, we scuba dived (dove?), did zip lining and a rope swing into a waterfall, and rode horses on the beach. I was also bent and determined on getting Nic to try bag juice, bun and cheese, and curried goat, despite our staying at an all-inclusive resort. My senior year of college, my family and I traveled to Jamaica to build a house as mission work. We became close with some locals and these three things are staples of native Jamaican fare, but they are culinary treats that tourists never encounter. Well, they never encounter because they never ask ;)
Nic and I quickly discovered that if I mentioned my familiarity and quest for bag juice, bun and cheese, and curried goat to any Jamaican working at the resort, that I became their new favorite guest (practically family). Unfortunately, I was told that none of these food products were available to guests at the resort. Psh, like that could stop me.
The first tour Nic and I took off of the resort, I pulled aside the tour guide and inquired if I could purchase bag juice or bun and cheese anywhere on our tour. She was kind enough to have the bus driver wait for us at the end of our excursion to stop into a native store (shack by our standards) and buy bag juice and bun and cheese. The famous curried goat dish persisted in eluding us the entire trip, but I have sworn to resume my quest for Nic to try it, should we ever visit Jamaica again.
Fast forward to our first weekend in Texas and our first grocery shopping trip as a married couple. Some things you should understand. Both Nic and I enjoy good food immensely, we also enjoy cooking together. However, my second marriage is to my budget. If anything should tempt me to cheat the budget, I cut it out of my life (aka grocery list)...it is better to loose a hand, kind of a mentality.
Before marriage, I could never take advantage of the "buy in bulk it saves in the long run" idea. If I had, the bulk of my savings would have prevented me from fitting into my wedding dress. There is just no way a single person can eat 10 loaves of bread and 12 lbs of chicken breast in one week before they go bad. I don't care how good the savings are! However, now that I am married, I can begin to think like those moms at Sam's Club.
The specific food to be purchased in bulk for myself and my husband: bag cereal. You heard it, two bags of should-feed-a-family-of-four-for-a-week-per-bag cereal is now being purchased and consumed by us. In one week. The only problem? Rationing one gallon of milk to all that cereal. Shiver. Mornings can be a bit tense. I was used to one gallon all to myself for a week (and it usually only lasted 6 days). Now I have to SHARE? How was this NOT in the marriage counseling sessions?
We're working on it.
Note: our newest cereal addiction are Blueberry Muffin Tops. It's basically the cereal version of the surgery muffin toppings on Pillsburry blueberry muffin box mixes. In reference to my new cereal addiction may be the only time I will be ok with being referred to as a "muffin topper." Just don't say it in the presence of my skinny jeans.
The other adjustment to my mornings: the Zombies which invade my apartment every morning at about 6:20am when I am in the bathroom getting ready for work. Nic is an avid player of Plants Vs. Zombies. An incredibly humorous and well-done video game by Pop Cap. There's even a music video:
I now know what kinds of zombies are invading my husband's lawn by the sound of the peas from the pea shooters hitting the unique zombies. The Yettie Zombie is the only one yet to attack. Perhaps Nic will be lucky enough to have one attack his lawn this week while I am brushing my teeth. We can only hope.
And now we are to the redneck limo incident. Nic has been dutifully and relentlessly looking for a job this past week. While in the business office at the club house of the apartment complex, he was speaking to the manager and she mentioned that her husband runs a limo service and that he is hard up for a driver. A few hours later and Nic is taking a 35-40 foot stretch Ford Expedition limo for a test drive. I've been told by Nic that it handles like it doesn't have power steering.
The guy liked Nic's limo handling well enough that he invited him to drive he and his friends around for the evening on Saturday night. Oh, and he could bring his wife with him. Score! I always wanted to ride up with the limo driver - almost as good as riding with the driver of the Disney monorail trains.
So Nic and I show up Saturday night only to learn that we will be shuttling around a group of 10 very nice and well-meaning Texas rednecks for the night. Our first stop of the evening? You guessed it. Wal Mart. Apparently there wasn't enough Chardonnay in the limo. How un-classy.
Nic then drove, and I helped navigate, the limo to the steakhouse for dinner while they pre-gamed it and rocked out to 80's music. After a nice slew of cocktails interrupted intermittently by mouthfuls of dinner at the restaurant, the group hit up a bar. Nic and I remained in the limo to digest our expensive dinner, they were nice enough to include us at the meal, and read a book together. The night ended with the group, all of them in their 50s and 40s, jamming to Kid Rock (oh leave us alone!), Tequila Makes Her Clothes Come Off, and Get My Drink On. Despite their dubious taste in music (well, ok I do think the Tequila song is funny), they were wonderful drunk tippers. Maybe Nic and I can get an extra 1/2 gallon of milk this week.
Ya'll ready for week three of marriage? 'Cause this little imp says, bring it on!