Ten Things Thursday

Colorado Wedding Version.

So I meant to get this post in before today. But that just didn't happen. Obviously. So here's the randomness that is my life, but about last weekend. Enjoy.

1. So last weekend, I told y'all that I was going to the cluster of all clusterf*ck of weddings. My step-brother was marrying his baby mama. Hillbilly backwoods Colorado style. It was a joy.

Actually it wasn't that bad. If you don't count that when I got there I found out that my dad and stepmom were hosting the rehearsal dinner, which meant that we were making all the food for about 30 people. And we were making all the side dishes for the wedding too. Oh, and we needed to completely clean, set up, and decorate the wedding reception place.

So in honor of my brother and his fiance and all the work I had to do for them for free I took a tequila shot. It was heinous. And my throat felt like raw flesh ground down by 60 grit sandpaper, no matter how much beer I drank to sooth it.

You do not taste good.

 2. The next morning I woke up as the sun was rising, because I was designated to sleep in the sun room (thanks parents, for not having enough bedrooms, with curtains, in your 4 bedroom house to fit everyone in the family), and felt like sunshine was escaping from every pore in my body. And I sparkled. Just kidding, I wanted to murder that tequila shot I downed the previous evening. Because it was doing not nice things to my skull.

Anyways.

We had plans to go to the farmers market that morning (which would have been Friday), to get all the goodies that our little hearts desired. Now this market isn't your usual 2 booths of half rotten tomatoes, and then 32 booths of homemade wooden benches fashioned out of old coffins with pictures of John Wayne plastered all over them (true story). This market is the mother of all markets. It actually is in a tie to be the best farmers market in all of Colorado. And it's set in a town of about 8,000 people.

Many moons ago, when I lived in Colo for a summer, I actually sold some of my art at this farmers market. Didn't make much, but it was still cool to sell my little doodle scratches.

Anyway, you walk up and it's just booths and booths of homemade crepes, tons of fruits and veggies, fresh baked bread, homemade pasta (which I partook in that action! 1/2 pound of garlic chive and lemon pepper flavored gluten-free pasta! Yum!), and arts and crafts that could be sold at any high priced snoody Aspen store.......

AND......

Homemade WINE!!!!!!!!

Thank you baby Jesus for blessing me with this lovely early morning wine tasting.

I mean, who doesn't like a good wine buzz early in the morning?

And then I got to see a baby Alpaca. Walked on leashes. Like dogs.

Because this farmer's market doubles as a petting zoo too. Apparently.

There were soft, like a little kitten, only a small midget could ride this thing bareback, and it was only a few months old. And the owners were selling them. I wondered slightly that if I purchased a baby alpaca and trucked it back to Kansas in my brand new Jeep, if Ryan wouldn't freak about having a new playmate for Wyatt to live in our backyard. Then I wondered what you did with an Alpaca. Like do they just graze your lawn down so you don't have to mow? Well we don't need that because the flame thrower also known as the sun has turned our grass to dried up toothpicks. Maybe alpacas are like camels and you can just ride them for eternity without them needing water. They kinda look like camels. Which we could totally need someday because we might run out of gasoline and since we live in Satan's outhouse, we also would have to hold back water, but we'd still need to travel to and fro, and an animal to take us to and fro with little water is perfect. And this little alpaca is way more cuter than a stinky spitting camel. But I didn't purchase the cute little dude, because I knew Ryan would be all, "What the F*ck, Laura?" So I will blame him when we run out of gas and can't get around because we don't have an alpaca.

It should be noted, that while I saved money on the alpaca, I spent $90 on pasta, wine, and a sandblasted beer glass for my husband. Most of it went to the wine.

3.  After the market we headed to the ceremony/reception camp......yes, it's a camp, backwoods remember.....to get the place clean and set up. But that's really boring and all I did was bitch and sweat the whole afternoon with little to no beer. So I'm moving on to the day of the ceremony.

The day started out simply stellar because I did something that no person should ever do. Ever.
I ran up and down a mountain.
Twice.
For exercise.
And because I've lost it. Mentally speaking.

I miscalculated when I told you last week that it was about 4 miles around my parents drive. It was more like 1.3. So I started off on the downward side, because that's the only way to go, and jogged that sucker as long as I could before having to go around the loop and prepare my lungs for the exploding that was surely going to happen.
It was about .8 miles down.

Then about .5 miles up.

UpUpUpUpandmotherf*ckingUp.

My first mile I made pretty good time. But going on my second loop/mile, I knew I had made a terrible mistake of doing this little jog twice. Well, maybe not a mistake, I just worried that I was going to hack up a lung, which would attract the bears, and then I'd get mauled to death in the middle of nowhere. But I trudged through and made it. With both my lungs. I was slightly shaky and a little disoriented when I finally made it up to the house. But I also felt pretty darn good for running that. Dolphin claps for me.

4. After my glorious jog, we all hung around the house for awhile, slowly getting ready for the big event. That part was nice, just to lawdy daw around and not be in such a rush that you felt the need to take speed so you can get everything done, and then finally get to your destination only to remember that since you were so cracked out you left your curlers in. Never has happened to me.

We headed to the camp about 2 hours before the wedding to make last minute adjustments to......well, random shit. I didn't adjust anything. I had a beer.

10 minutes before the ceremony was supposed to start, about 40 people were just milling about around the gym where the reception would be. So we started herding them like cattle down the road to the ceremony spot. Which was completely beautiful. Makes me want to get married all over again, but outside, by a pond, in the mountains, like Heaven.

Thank Christ my niece was also not included in the wedding festivities (way to make me feel included bro), so I didn't have to sit in the very front alone while having that eery feeling of people staring the back of your head down.

Then we had a couple of wedding crashers show up.

So rude.

And finally, 30 minutes late, the wedding started. (BTW, for those of you that don't know, Colorado has their own 'time'. They move when they want, despite that there might be about 100 people waiting on them. It's annoying and makes me all sorts of stabby.)

Clearly the pastor is happy.

She's just so darn cute!!

All the girls!

My dad, stepmom with her son and new bride!

Apparently I'm the only one that knows how to look at a camera.

My stepsis and stepbro.

5. The ceremony lasted a blessed 15 minutes, and we all moved up to the reception. Where the 6....count em' SIX.......kegs of beer were being tapped. I think I just died and went to beer Heaven.

OH, by the way, this was my outfit:

My boobs look so big in that dress. I shall wear it all the time.

The dancing started just about the time that my social anxiety kicked in like a mo' fo'.

That is my dad. Awesome.Dancer.

So I headed outside to call everyone in my phonebook hoping one little friend would pick up and I could pretend that I wasn't alone with 122 strangers, which would any minute cause me to crawl under the table with a pitcher of malt beverages.  No one answered. Bastards.  Oh, no wait, I think I talked to  Ryan. He was at my Mom's house at my cousin's wedding shower. And after we got done, he text me this picture.
Titled: YOUR dog

Good job Puppy! Get muddy when your Daddy is the only one around to give you a bath!!! I will give you treats later for that.

While outside hiding, the evening started to get much more interesting for me.

6. Meet Jim:

Jim is a retired backwoods hillbilly cowboy that is older than the mountains with skin that looks like a dried cow patty. He has a affection for red wine that turns his 2.5 teeth into a lovely burgundy shade, which he tried to lick off with his lizard-like tongue every time he opened his mouth to speak. In his free time he likes to stick his hands up a horses hoo-ha and try to pull breach colts out, which I got every glorious detail of every 'delivery' he's done in 392 years. He apparently is a genius also, because he's talking to a girl a third of his age and follows her around like a night stalker, only it's daytime, which freaks her the fuck out and causes her to want to even more crawl under the table. Or chug a bottle of vodka. Either way. And won't stop, even though said girl has mentioned, like a kazillion times, that she's not only happily married to an ex-Navy seal who used to be a linebacker and is now a prison guard (Ryan, you need to put that on your resume by the way), but may have a severely contagious disease that will make men's pee-pees fall off, shrivel up, and turn to dust. Oh wait, no wonder that didn't bother him, his was probably dust anyway. Shitballs.

7.  After two hours, I successfully ditched the geezer by having the bridesmaids hide me under their dresses until he left. It was a close one folks.

8.  Then this happened again:

My poor father. Whoever told him that ridiculous lie that he was a good dancer should be shot.

9. I spent the rest of the reception running around and taking pictures. And drinking, of course.

My Sis Becca, Niece Riley, and Moi.

Riley and her dad Derek.

This would be the bride and groom's (and my new nephew!) adorable little boy, Trenton!

Add: Can't smile worth shit to my resume. Jesus, it looks like someones torturing me.

10.  And then I gave my camera to Riley, because she's started to have an interest in photography, and I secretly get all jumpy and excited like I've been on a crack bender for 3 months because of it. I love it when people love what I love.

And that's when I became a diva.

And on that note....

Cheers Lovies!!!
Have a stupendous Thursday!