Road Trip: How It's Done

Last Thursday we squeezed into Kirsten's car, which was fresh from the body shop where little Jawas had been tinkering with it for the past month. Hoping it was really fixed for good now, we opted to hit the open highway headed for a wedding in South Carolina and hope for the best.


She knitted while I did all the driving (this was only so I would, as guaranteed in the American constitution, have the right to choose our music).


We stopped for Mexican food along the way. Though I am dog-smiling here, the food was an atrocity. What I will now refer to as Mex-atrocious.


She didn't seem to mind.


Later, at the hotel, she tried to entice me to play poolside Scrabble by showing a little leg.


I said no.


This is us at the wedding ceremony, which was held in an outdoor amphitheater type thing. Though we are smiling here, we were actually in the middle of a huge fight about the fact that I wouldn't play poolside Scrabble with her. But you can't tell, right? We've mastered that whole celebrity thing where you grin and fake it.




This is where the reception was held. In a really beautiful, rustic house owned by a friend of the groom's family. There were cottages and trees and horses. It was ridiculous.


This is Brooke the bride standing next to my hot girlfriend. When you want to get beautiful women like this to photograph well, all you have to do is say, "HEY LADIES!" Try it sometime. It really works.


Seriously. This is who I wake up next to every morning. I don't know how it happened either.


And this is who she wakes up to. It's not exactly a fair exchange, but we make it work.


I kind of followed Kirsten around with a camera, because she was smoking hot.


Later, when the sun when down, we went for a walk. The horses trotted alongside us.


I could have shaved for the wedding. But I didn't.



The sad reality was that, after that gorgeous wedding celebration and all the drinking and dancing, the next morning we had to make the 13-hour drive home. Thank the road gods that in the middle of rural Tennessee, between exit after exit of fast food and convenience centers, we stumbled upon this vegetarian-friendly cafe alongside a peaceful brook. It was like a dream, really. I'm still not sure it happened.



Double bonus: later, around dinner time, we lucked out again and found a decent burrito chain. This is me savoring my burrito. Behind me were people in renaissance garb. That's who Kirsten was really trying to photograph, but she captured my burrito-savoring monkey face as well.


(A little sun brings the Mexican in me out.) We honestly never get sick of each other. I don't understand it.