Postscript

Since the wedding, which has been defining my life for months now and after this post will cease to do so, I have done the following:

*Received A LOT of pictures. Thank you, to those who've forwarded them on to us, we love them. We will eventually sort through them and make an album.
*Watched more hours of television than ever thanks to several 2-hour season and series finales, and The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, a seriously long western. Now, it's just all dingers, all the time.
*Changed my name on many, many documents and cards; how did my name get on so many things?
*Continued to drink too much wine then, in a pact with my hubby, decided to give up drinking for a week, just to see if we can. Sad.
*Worked like crazy to catch up with all of the boxes, mail, voicemails and piles that accrued while I was away for over 2 weeks. Yikes. I'm still kind of doing that, but it all feels pretty-well organized at this point.
*Went to traffic court to fight a somewhat justified speeding ticket. Lost. Decided to appeal. Look forward to losing that, too, but at least I won't go down without a fight.
*Resumed regular, weekly gym outings, which I call "outings" to mitigate the torture of lifting, running, stretching and sweating that occurs when I walk into the gym.
and
*Attended my China tour orientation - this is the next thing that I am excitedly looking forward to. I am going with a group of teachers on a work trip in August for 17 days. Yay China!

I missed some birthdays in all of the hubbub. Happiest birthdays to Kati (if you actually still read this, please write or call), Lauren "the-best-flowergirl-in-the-East" Carey, my lovely mother, LJ2, and Aunt Sue. And Happy 1-year Anniversary to Nic and Brian - time flies!

GOING HOME

This is the last of 12 entries starting below with "ESCAPE" and then passed back and forth between Bryan and me.

Thursday, May 11

Bryan woke up before his alarm at 6:40 AM and jumped in the shower. Is someone excited to see Framingham again?

I groggily rolled out of bed and started gathering our belongings. While in the shower, Bryan realized that we only had $10 left and that we still had to tip the maid and pay for the cab ride to the airport. He left me to stuff the bags while he went in search of an ATM. I shoved, squished and finagled all the newly acquired alcohol, along with our clothes, into the 5 bags we'd brought. By the time Bryan returned, I had showered and was zipping the final bag closed.

We hailed a cab and settled in for the 10 minute ride to the airport, made a little more torturous by the country music blaring from the radio of our Middle Eastern cab driver. With my identity in my pocket this time, we breezed through security and had time to eat some breakfast before our very crowded flight was boarded. The guy in the seat in front of Bryan only knocked into his knees 22 times, and we had the pleasure of watching one of the most overwrought and cheesy movies, "Last Holiday" with Queen Latifah (don't worry, we only vomited in our mouths once).

We landed smoothly, got a ride from the Logan Express, where I did not forget anything, then from my brother, who made a pit-stop at McDonald's for us since we'd skipped dinner, and arrived home to our large pile of mail and happy fishies.

Thank you to everyone who bought us something from our Honeymoon Registry - we toasted each of you as we ate, visited, cheered and played in San Diego.

UP, UP, and AWAY

Tuesday, May 9

The alarm went off way too early.

By 4:20 we were up, dressed & on our way back to Temecula in our hot, little Ford Focus; we had to meet the balloon company at 5:30. There was little traffic and the directions were good, so we pulled into a parking spot at 5:31. The place was a B&B/vineyard with a house on a hill and a beautiful view of the valley immediately in front of it (where the grapes were being watered at this ungodly hour). There were 5 of us present, 2 couples and one older woman in addition to us, with 2 more expected - they got lost and showed up 10 minutes late. When they did pull up, we may as well have been on the set of "A Golden Girl Special: the girls do a balloon ride before Sophia kicks it." Two more elderly women joined us in the van to raise the total age of balloon riders to close to 375. We stopped for a pee break and then went off in search of the perfect easterly wind on which to lift our balloon.

By the time we found that wind, it was 6:45. The van was driven into a field so the inflation process could begin. This involved a lot of standing around for the riders and a lot of work for the crew. First, a plastic tarp was placed on the ground so the basket could put on the ground, on its side (easier to attach the balloon). Then, a huge nylon tarp was spread out and the balloon was unfurled. Large fans were put on either side of the basket to push air into the balloon. Once it was nearly inflated, the crew decided to load the "ladies." This involved getting them horizontal so they could crawl into the basket; then, when the basket was pulled upright by the balloon, they would already be in it. Ever seen 3 80+ women crawl into something? I recommend it.

The rest of us climbed into the basket using foot cutouts. This involved jumping down onto the floor of the basket, which the collective knees of the GG wouldn't have borne too well. The pilot then heated the air (elicited some extra twittering from the GGs) and we were gently lifted into the air. I have to mention, that one of the GGs was a substitute for another whose knees & hip were so bad she couldn't even get into the van. The subsitute's name was Ann and she was there because her friend's daughter had bought them a ride; she was not thrilled to be in a hot air balloon.

It was an amazing ride - you just drift over rooftops and trees and roads. It's pretty quiet and the gas kept us warm though it was a damp, overcast morning. The only tense part, for me, came when the pilot lifted us about 200 feet in the air - the ground looked very far away and the clouds/fog started closing in around us, obscuring everything, and we ceased to move. I got pretty nervous, which fed Ann's already frazzled nerves as she had also realized that we weren't moving. She looked at Bryan and with supreme seriousness said, "I smell gas." I guess Ann hadn't noticed that gas was what powered a balloon. B couldn't contain his chuckle and Ann ducked down into the basket, sure we were doomed. The other guy in the balloon, Stan, checked with the pilot and found out that he was looking for a southern wind to carry us across the vineyards. He found something because we started moving again and we floated closer to the ground. I liked being closer to the ground. The pilot was able to show off a bit as we passed over fields, just brushing the tops of grasses and mustardseed, then when it seemed that we would crash into the side of a hill, lifting us just over. Very cool.

We finally found a good field in which to land, and we did so with barely a bump; we touched down and stopped. We had to wait for the ground crew to find us and then had to wait, in the balloon, as they collapsed the balloon (our weight kept the basket anchored). When we could get out, 4 of us did so easily. The Golden Girls needed some help and it was Bryan to the rescue, 'cause he's so tall ("and strong and handsome.") He practically lifted 2 of them out of the basket causing them to gush about his brawniness. When we all had our feet on the ground, there was champagne all around and a van ride back to our starting point. Turns out the B&B/vineyard belonged to our pilot, David, and his wife had prepared breakfast for us. David turned on the charm teling us about his grapes and the property and how long he'd been flying balloons and bi-planes. He bought the land from an older woman with whom he'd become friends because he would land his balloons in her driveway.

After singing Happy Birthday to the Golden Girls, thanking David for the ride and the bottle of wine he gave us in honor of our nuptials, we got back in our beatmobile and headed to toward the coast. Time check: 9:30 AM. We navigated our way to Oceanside (just north of Carlsbad, where we were meeting Joe & Jan for lunch at 1:30), took an hour nap on the beach, walked a long pier eating a morning snack of McDonald's french fries, watched people fishing off said pier (they catch perch), then headed to lunch. Now: 12:15 PM.

We made it to Carlsbad in 15 minutes, found Joe's condo from memory (he had shown us the way the Tues before but that was after 4 beers - not bad), and realized we were too early. So, we stopped at the Carlsbad Outlets, ate a fish taco at Rubio's (holy delicious), bought some pistachios, then went for our "real" lunch at an Italian restaurant. We also got the speed tour through the San Luis Rey Mission and finished the afternoon with a pint at an Irish tavern. We arrived back at the car rental office five minutes before they closed and relinquished our sweet ride.

A nap before dinner, which we ate at Dakota's, the restaurant at the Gaslamp Plaza Suites. The food was uninspired but filling and gave us just enough strength to visit the Hustler store around the corner. The (wo)man at the 1st floor counter was intimidating, but we pressed on through all 3 floors of Larry Flintified merchandise, and made it out without buying one adult video. We returned to the room to sleep off our 19 hour day.

Visit Bryan's blog to find out how we spent our last day in SD on Wednesday, May 10th...

WINE!

Sunday the second, May 7

As Bryan would write this entry: wine, wine, wine, wine, puke, pass out.

My version:
Waking to an alarm for the first time in 10 days, we got ready for our Temecula wine-tasting tour, making sure to grab a quick breakfast so as not to get hammered after the first tasting. The van was due at 9:15 AM and were there to meet it. We did learn as we got out on the street that many of the downtown roads were closed due to a road race and we were starting to wonder if the van would ever show. Just as I was about to call, an elderly black gentleman stuck his head out of a large, white van window and said, "Don't look so worried, Jill." This was Ray, our driver and host for the day. We also picked up 5 other people at the Old Town tram station; they were our age and looked pretty tired. After introducing ourselves (us: Bryan & Jill, them: Stacey, Loren, Caroline, Jorge & Kim), we all fell into a stupor for the hour drive. As we approached Temecula, Ray said, "welcome to wine country," and he had to say that because all that we could see was urban sprawl and chain-infested strip malls.

We arrived at our first stop, Callaway Winery, where we got a short tour of the wine-making process before heading to the bar for our first "tasting." We got a souvenir class and 4 tastes. I had 2 whites and 2 reds; Bryan had 3 reds and a dessert wine. We weren't blown away by anything. When we were finished, we met Ray outside and learned that lunch wasn't until 3 PM (it was noon). Luckily, Bryan had snagged an extra muffin at breakfast so we shared that. I'd guess that it helped to absorb .09 litres of wine.

Feeling a little buzzed and a whole lot chattier, we made our way to the next winery, Wilson Creek, home of the famous (at least to people in Southern Cal.) almond champagne. We had a lot of time at this winery and no tour, so we bellied up to the bar, this time for 5 tastes in our new souvenir glass, with our other tour participants and commenced tasting. We were impressed by the Syrah and Zin, mildly impressed by the almond champagne and I was quite blown away by the chocolate Zinfande port. We decided to send some wine to Bryan's parents, to buy a bottle of Zin for my cousin, and to drink a bottle ourselves, outside in the gazebo with our new friends. We had a grand time trading stories and glasses of wine until Mr. Grape (Ray) came to collect us for our next stop.

Still too early for lunch, we detoured to an outdoor spot on a hill overlooking most of the valley where Ray pulled out a bottle of Kendall Jackson chardonnay and poured a round. Because what we needed now was more wine.

We went to the last winery, Ponte Family Estate Winery, for our final tasting and lunch. Ponte Winery allowed 6 tastings plus the glass, of which I managed to get in 3 before being seated for lunch - Bryan got in 4. Ray assured us that we could get the rest after lunch, which pacified our raging wine lust. However, we ordered 3 bottles with lunch, all of which were pretty tasty from what I remember. After lunch, Bryan actually went for his 5th taste, a port that partially ended up dribbling down the front of his shirt whether from an unsteady drinking hand or the jostling of another drinker, we'll never know. I skipped additional wine to save room for the essential amount of blood needed in my veins to run the major organs, and we all piled into the van for the return trip. This ride involved a lot of laughing, yelling and some email trading.

We weren't sorry to see our new buds go (they were flying back to Virginia on the red eye and had to work the next day), but we were really glad that they had turned out to be so fun. Ray dropped us off at our door and we unsteadily made our way to our room. There was initial dozing, followed by a good suggestion to have food delivered to our room, the eating of a slice of pizza each, some puking (I'll never tell which of us couldn't hold his wine), watching of Sunday night tv and finally blissful sleep of the deeply hung over.

Having been to Napa and now Temecula, the two don't really compare in grandiosity or breadth, Napa easily winning those claims, but Temecula was much more affordable and the wine was certainly tasty enough for those of us from the Carlo Rossi set.

See Bryan for our Monday, May 8th adventures at the zoo.

OFF TO THE CITY

Friday, May 5 aka Cinco de Mayo

For our final morning at the Bahia, we chose to get room service. The order:
1 American breakfast (scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns & toast) w/grapefruit juice
1 American breakfast (same as above but w/bacon and oj)
1 Belgian waffle
1 Order French toast
Decaf coffee
Tea
What was eaten:
Bryan - 1 sausagey American breakfast, everything but 2 pieces of toast
1 Belgian waffle
Entire glass of grapefruit juice and 1/2 a cup of tea
Jill - 2 pieces of bacon, 2 of the 4 pieces of French toast, some of the hash browns, 1 piece of toast, most of the oj and 1/2 a cup of coffee. I know, I know, there are starving children everywhere. Score one for Bryan.

Gluttony aside, we moved into the sloth period, laying around reading and watching old Cosby reruns (2 different episodes on 2 different channels). We had to check out by noon and we didn't intend to leave the room until 11:58.

After packing (why does one always end up with more crap than she came with?), we accomplished our goal, arriving in the lobby at noon. I got a chance to thank the nice concierge who had given us directions to the library on the 1st day. He said that I was one of the happiest people he'd seen to which I replied that I had a lot to be happy about.

We got a cab to the Gaslamp Plaza Suites where we were going to spend the next leg of our trip. We were able to check in early, but our hints about being on our honeymoon were less impressive to the desk clerk here who simply handed us the key to our intended room and wished us a pleasant day. Our room was pretty nice and as it was on the 9th floor we had a great view of the city and part of the bay. All of the rooms are named after authors and we were in the Flaubert room down the hall from the cummings, Dostoevski and Hardy rooms.

Our first order of business upon getting settled in our new digs was to take a nap. Somewhere on this honeymoon, we morphed into an 80-year-old couple who can't seem to go 3 hours without a little "time-out" rest. Around 3 PM, we made our way out of the hotel, mailed some post cards at a shady post office, after walking through the shadiest open mall in Southern Cal. We had heard that SD had a lot of homeless people, but there were also a fair share of people talking to themselves, wearing strange, or better yet no, shirts, and just generally existing in their own realities. I tried not to get touched or grabbed as we walked away from the mall toward the Gaslamp trolley stop.

We bought 2 round-trip tickets so we could get to Old Town. No one ever checked or asked for our tix (either way) so we figured that only tourists like us buy them - everyone else has a commuter card.

Old Town was just that - a replica of SD before it grew into a thriving metropolis. We walked through the town, stopping at the Wells Fargo office, the old courthouse, the dentist's office (creepy), theh candle shop, tin maker's, general store, candy shoppe and gem shop. We realized that SD really isn't that old. Most of the history starts in the 1850s and the people involved in a lot of the stories that we read lived into the 1930s. Coming from New England, this all felt like a fresh story. We visited the Thomas Whaley House, which is considered THE most haunted house in America. It was both the first 2-story house built in the area and the first brick one. We didn't see any ghosts or feel any presences, but it was interesting to see that the house had a theater on the 2nd floor, in addition to bedrooms, and a large courtroom. Since it was the biggest house around, it was used by the community. Being hungrier than we were historically-inclined, we quickly made our way through the rest of the house and then got our butts across the street to the Old Town Mexican Cafe (another Wally recommendation).

OTMC was delicious - smooth margaritas and yummy salsa, but since the bar area was so crowded due to Cinco de Mayo, after we ate we headed back to the Gaslamp district. We also needed a nap. Seriously.

We watched some baseball, leaving when the Mets/Braves game was in the 14th inning and the Padres/Cubs game was in the 7th. We made our way across the street to the Gaslamp Tavern, where we scored prime seats at the outside bar. We were drinking our beers and watching the Padres when the night took an unexpected, and devastatingly awkward, turn. A guy sitting next to me decided to strike up a conversation. His name was Paul and he was a little drunk, which we didn't realize until we really got talking to him. Normally, we like drunk people, and when Paul bought us a shot, we were ready to be his friend. Then, he moved a little closer to me, like, if he got any closer, he would've been in my lap, closer. And he started asking us a ton of questions abot why we'd decided to get married, how we knew it was right, how much money we made. All of this was due to the fact that he claimed to be crazy about his girlfriend, who apparently lived in Key West, and we was trying to figure out their future. Seemed nice, but at this point, he pulled out his cell phone and started showing us pictures of her, some a little less appropriate than others (which he winkingly told Bryan he'd show him later). Then he put out his hand and said that his name was Paul and we knew it was time to get rid of him. We mentioned that we were going to head to the next bar, an Irish pub of some sort. Paul declared that he would come WITH US and that we could hang with him all night. Luckily, he also decided that he had to go to the bathroom first. When the bathroom door closed on him, my normally non-plussed husband looked at me, panic in his eyes, and said, "Let's go. Right now. Otherwise, we're never going to lose this guy." I was convinced. We tore out of the bar looking for another in which we could hide. Since we'd mentioned wanting to go to an Irish pub, we knew we couldn't go to one, so we turned down a street and came across a very friendly looking bar, one in which we could see that the Padres game was still on. Hilariously, this bar was a Hooters. So, that's how I went to my first Hooters.

It turned out well. Bryan and I compared waitress butt as we drank a beer and watched the extra innings of the 0-0 game. The Padres won in the 11th adn Hooters erupted. We decided to make our way to another establishment. I had realized when we sat down at the Hooters bar that I had left my credit card at the Gaslamp Tavern to hold our tab, so we had to swing by there again. We did and without incident; Paul was gone. At this point, it was past 10 and the bars were filled to capacity with long lines at the doors and covers for the privilege of buying a $6 beer. We had lost our cushy seat and now wandered the streets looking for an adequate substitute. We ended up at Xavier's, a faux-mod bar with a Hollywood movie theme (film reels on the wall and Hollywood stars in the floor tiles presumably with staff names, all superstars, I'm sure), bought some overpriced drinks and watched the people walk by. Across from Xavier's was a TGIFriday's with some kind of club above it and an Ole Cafe with a 2nd floor. About 1/2 way through our drinks we noticed that the TGIF club had live women dancing in the windows, beautiful women with long, lithe bodies and form-hugging white outfits. We sat mesmerized. Then Cafe Ole pulled a screen over its 2nd floor windows and had the form of a woman dancing suggestively. All of this made me want to dance myself; Bryan said that it just made him tired (at the thought of so much dancing - it had been several hours since our last nap). We left Xavier's and moved next door to a little Mexican cafe, Alambre's, where we ordered the House Huge margarita, which was truly bigger than my head. I had to use a token to pee, Bryan watched a woman get thrown out and after determinedly drinking 3/4 of that limey deliciousness, we took our buzz back to the hotel for some shut eye.

Back to Bryan for our Saturday, May 6th adventures in Balboa and Petco Parks...

HOW NOT TO REMEMBER A WEDNESDAY

Wednesday, May 3

Woke up, once again to a cloudy morning, and decided to walk to "The Mission" on Mission Blvd for breakfast. I should mention here that when we were researching this trip, I found a great web site called Local Wally's Guide to San Diego. I read everything that he suggested and note a few notes so that we had some recommendations with us; his site helped us plan our honeymoon registry. Well, Wally had recommended "The Mission" but we thought that it was a really long walk, but on the prior day, the Georgian bus driver pointed it out and said that we had to eat breakfast there and we noticed that it wasn't all that far (actually, Bryan noticed, I was just excited that both Wally and G. b. d. agreed and we were going to see if they were right).

I digress. Anyway, we made it to the restaurant, ordered mimosas and ate one of the most delicious breakfasts ever. We returned to the resort, read and napped in preparation for our "date" with my cousin Joe at 2 PM.

A note about Joe: when I was a kid, I heard about this cousin who lived in California, but I had never met or seen him. He was the only son of my grandmother's eldest sister, the only cousin older than my mom, and had lived in CA since the mid-50s. All I really knew of him was that we was a wealthy business man who never married or had children and who couldn't be bothered to visit his family on the East Coast. But, according to my grandmother, his mother, my great aunt, was kind of strange about family ties and didn't want him to get involved with the "relatives". When this aunt died in in the late '90s, my mom sent him an invitation to our annual cousin party and he accepted. Thus, Joe entered our lives. He brought with him cases of wine, a repertoire of Italian songs (and a keyboard on which to sing them) and lots of stories about his father, my great uncle Sal, and the other colorful family members no one really talked about. Everyone in my family was enchanted and my grandmother began visiting Joe in Carlsbad and he would stop in to my mom's anytime his business took him to Boston. My younger brother stayed with him when he visited San Diego a few year ago, and Bryan & I were heartily encouraged to contact him while in the area. So, we did and our plan was to drink a few cocktails with him, get a tour of the coast on the way to Carlsbad, have dinner at his condo with his partner Jan and then return to our resort. The best laid plans...

Joe arrived, looking every inch the Italian host - shiny Oldsmobile Aurora, hair combed back, arms open. Our first stop was the Soledad Monument, which gave an amazing view of SD and the bay. Then we wet our whistle at Rockbottom Brewery in La Jolla (Bryan recognized the place 'cause there is one in Cambridge). One of Joe's business partners, Andy, met up with us and had a cuppa. Andy was a bit of a cartoon character come to life - a salesman extraordinaire filled with stories about his and Joe's notorious business adventures and stuffed with opinions about religion (good catholic mexican american), baseball (spoke highly of the Satans which caused a second's lull in the conversation before Bryan shrugged it off) and white people (doesn't particularly care for them and by white people meant WASPS - don't worry Kate, we love you). It was a thoroughly entertaining 3-beer stop though B & I agreed that we couldn't imagine spending more than an hour with Andy.

We got the guided tour through Torrey Pines, Cardiff-by-the-Sea, Del Mar, Encinitas and, finally, Carlsbad, where the Flower Fields were in full bloom. We stopped in front of this tourist attraction for a photo op and then indulged my desire for fresh strawberried by stopping at a roadside stand. We also slaked our thirst once more (or kept the buzz going, whichever), this time with 22 oz. beers at Karl Strauss.

Then on to Joe's condo where the charming Jan, a chilled champagne, hors d'oeuvres and delectable Italian food awaited us [the menu: homemade Italian wedding soup, antipasto, cavatelle with ricotta, homemade sauce & meatballs and porkchops, followed by a brownie with vanilla gelato]. In addition to the bottle of champagne (polished off mostly by B & me as Joe refilled our glasses each time we took a sip), we drank 1 and 3/4 bottles of excellent Zinfandel and had shots of Lemoncella (well, Joe & I did). I'm pretty sure that that little glass of lemon-flavored deliciousness eradicated any bit of sobriety to which I might have clung.

Jan drove our intoxicated asses back to the resort. I held Joe's hand the entire way and smilingly faded in and out of consciousness. The last thing I remember was saying goodbye to my cousins at the Resort lobby before waking up in my bathing suit, with my contacts still in my eyes, at 3:24 AM. Hmmmm.

I found out Thursday morning that I had agreed to a dip in the hot tub, allowed my husband to dress me in my suit, then passed out, contacts in, on top of the covers. i also discovered that we left Carlsbad with 2 bottles of damned good Zin, a lot of tarallis (a type of Italian pretzel with anis seed), and new crystal champagne flutes in honor of our nuptials. I also learned that i didn't do or say anything too retarded under the influence of the 10+ drinks i'd consumed. Joe was the consummate host and we enjoyed the condo filled with German steins, clocks, and shag carpets. We even agreed to visit again after our balloon ride the next Tuesday. I hoped to actually remain sober enough to write down all of the family stories Joe has to share.

See Bryan's blog for our May 4th sunbathing saga...

ESCAPE

Sunday, April 30

Got to Logan via LJ and the Logan Express bus. When we got up to the ticket counter, I realized that I didn't have my purse, which I had had on the bus. No license, no credit card, no money, no composure. With a look of what could only have been sheer panic, I explained that my purse was gone to the ticket agent. She told me to run downstairs to the Information booth to see if I could stop the Logan Express bus before it left the airport. I did this, the info booth guy did stop the bus, scanned it and talked to the driver. No purse. The American Airlines people assure me that I will be able to get on the plane and to run to the gate. So, leaving my complete identity somewhere in Boston, we head to the gate.

At the security checkpoint, I am allowed to pass after showing a prescription bottle I happen to have in my carry-on, the absolute only thing with my name on it. We had a smooth flight to Dallas/Ft Worth, rode the new skylink tram to our connecting terminal, ate some tasty sandwiches, and arrived at our gate just in time to board our flight. Bryan had to admit that his first experience in TX was flawless.

After another smooth flight to SD, we flag a cab and, in a total rookie move, realize that we don't have the address to our resort. Our cabbie drives in the "direction" of the resort as we call 411 to get the address. We inform the driver who radioed headquarters and in some indecipherable African language got directions adn navigated his way to the Bahia Resort.

We informed the very nice hotel clerk, Scott, that we were on our honeymoon and got an upgrade from garden view to ocean suite - sweet. Then, because I needed to get all of the telephone numbers to cancel my credit cards, we asked for directions to the closest library. We got some funny looks from Scott and the concierge, but a player had to find some free internet in a foreign city and the public library is the surest place. We all learned that there was a library just under 2 miles away and as soon as we'd stored our stuff and changed into cooler clothes, we set off. We made it to the 'brary with 1/2 hour to spare, looked up all of the #s and then truly began our honeymoon.

We walked along the boardwalk and were amazed by the throngs (that's thRongs, not thongs). I managed to walk into a short palmtree-like thing and pierce the inside of my ear (having one hell of a day) - it bled and hurt for just a bit before the constant sight and sound of the Pacific assuaged all pain.

We ate at a great little pizza place on Pacific Beach, Luigi's, where we discovered a Southern California treat, Red Trolley Beer - mmmm. After dinner we took a dip in the hot tub, where we met a woman originally from Leominster, Mass. now living in AZ, I stubbed my toe harder than a Big Papi drive to right, and we finally retired at 9:30 PST.

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THE HONEYMOON BEGINS

Monday, May 1

Still on East Coast time, we woke before the sun at 7:00 AM. I called every credit card to cancel, and fell in love with Chase who not only changed my name to Mrs. O, but who agreed to overnight my replacement card to the resort - Yay. Then, around 9:30 AM (PST), I called Logan Express and learned that my purse had been found. Happy day. My mom went and picked it up and overnighted my license to the hotel, thereby saving my heretofore unidentified ass. With this new piece of mind, we read all morning, ate a delicious breakfast buffet, lay on the beach, swam in the pool, napped, watched the first batter of the Sox/Satans game (booing inside all the while), turned it off so as not to ruin this perfect day, just in case, walked to the ocean again, ate tacos while watching the surfers, went back to the hotel to read a little more before setting off to our Sunset Harbor Cruise.

May 1st continued at Bryan's blog as well as our exploration of La Jolla on May 2nd...

Mrs. O is in the building

Well, it's done. Vows were said, the aisle was walked, the first dance was wonderfully executed, and a good time was apparently had by all. It was a beautiful, brisk day and absolutely nothing went wrong. The pictures came out great, the ocean was the perfect color blue and Bryan actually showed his pearly whites.

We left on April 30th for our honeymoon to San Diego. While there, we kept a journal of our exploits and adventures, each one of us taking turns recording the happenings. Now, for your reading pleasure we will do the same here on our blogs. For your viewing pleasure, I have also added a link under Pictures of our honeymoon pictures which I uploaded to Snapfish.

Away we go...