Mishaps and marriage

Notice the title isn't "Mishaps IN marriage." That's an important distinction to make...Moving right along.

One of my dearest friends (Lauren) got married this weekend, and I was honored to be in her wedding. Since our first class together in 6th grade (Coach Coulter, Social Studies!), we have remained friends, though tons of good times and lots of notsomuchgood times.

Lauren and I traveled together a lot as part of the youth choir and youth group at our church during high school: Mexico, Costa Rica, Florida, Brazil, etc. We would always find ourselves together in the neatest places/most romantic locations which inevitably prompted us to ask, "Why can't you be a boy right now?" For example, getting caught in the rain on the beach. Romantic? Yes. With your best friend? Notsomuch. I am delighted to report she now has a great guy to be with in all of those romantic places.

In addition to being a bridesmaid at this wedding, I also served as one of about 3 photographers, shooting various stuff throughout the weekend. The camera I was shooting with died, numerous times, despite my best attempts to keep the batteries charged. So I shot most of the good stuff with her Nikon, which she then took on her honeymoon. This means I don't have a big chunk of the pictures I took and most of the ones I really liked. Here is one (I had every intention of putting more up, but the darn thing is so slow to load. Click here to see the Facebook album).



With the obvious "marriage tie-in" completed, I have to come clean about my mishap (there were several, I'm sure, but this was the biggie.)

As the happy couple was about to head out, we were all lined up getting ready to see them off, sparklers in hand. As mentioned, I was also a photographer that night, so my hands were doing double-duty. Apparently in my sparkler-carrying-camera-shooting fervor, I failed to notice I had caught something on fire. My flip-flop. On my foot.

I'm not sure exactly what happened (did I step on a spark? Did someone leave a hot sparkler on the ground?) I only know the outcome: Lots and lots of heat on my foot, a charred black hole in the sole of my flip flop, and me - hysterically screaming as I threw the shoe across the road. So long to the happy couple. Enjoy your sparkler-less honeymoon!