And then. The rain. I believe it is sunny something like 361 days out of the year in Denver. The Beugg wedding somehow caught three of the rainy days. Everything was supposed to be outside, so the rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner, and the wedding were moved to Plan B. What can you say? Ruth was a trooper.
Aren't these so Anthropology? I was a HUGE fan of these assorted mini cupcakes. As in, I had six. Well? How can a girl choose? Red velvet, chocolate, vanilla....
I realized Sunday morning at brunch that I had missed my flight, which apparently was scheduled for Sunday morning at 12:35 a.m. -- not Monday morning at 12:35 a.m. Ah, flying. I always feel like I am rolling the dice. When it was all said and done, Anne Marie and I sat at the Denver airport for about six hours Sunday night. We thought we would be able to skip our red-eye flights and jump on an earlier flight, but no such luck. Instead we sat at an airport bar (remember Carrie's wedding? $8 airport beers never let you down) listening to our bartender tell us completely inappropriate jokes. I'm not sure what it was about us that led him to believe we were girls who would appreciate dirty jokes. Surely, it was not the Bloody Mary and large latte I was drinking simultaneously.
How time floats. There-now that sounds better. I'm not sure that even makes sense, but it sounds delicious.
Now, imagine me after a red-eye shuffling through Grand Central Terminal at 7:00 a.m. Rush hour in NYC. Now that's something to chew on.