all sparkly and shit

The Teschke-Ray Christmanniversarymoon Pt. 1

The past 15 days have been EPIC.  Epic enough that my loves are calling and asking all about it and I end up telling the same billion stories over and over again, so my lazy ass decided that the best thing is to blog it, baby!  Lucky you.  COMMENCE the slideshow of adorbs pics of us mugging in front of Christmas trees and Chichen Itza!!!  JK.  I promise it won’t be that bad, and there are plenty of stories and pics of Tom and I making asses of ourselves to keep you entertained.  CHRISTMANNIVERSARYMOON GO!


After working like crazy people the weeks leading up to the holidays, Tom and I were going positively NUTS and were really pumped to escape the city for such a long time.  We climbed into the car with the always awesome Benjamin Reid and Sasha Fierce to drive back to Ohio, listening to Phish and obscure 90’s rock and the cheeseball Christmas album we’d put together a few days before, almost getting run off of the road somewhere in New Jersey en route to a Dunkin Donuts (which Sasha just LOVED), and generally jingling all the way.  I also discovered my New Year’s resolution during the drive, which is to implement a new supercool catch phrase I found thanks to some random restaurant’s sign next to a BP in the middle of nowhere, PA:


YESBURGERS!  Who can say no to a Yesburger?!  It’s so easy to use in everyday conversations.  Found a $20 bill in your pocket?  Hellzyesburgers!  “Hey Tara, want to go have some pizza?”  “Uhhh, yesburgers!  Let’s go to Forcella where the hot Italian waiters are all grade-A yesburgers!”  Total win.  Aaaaaanyway.  Once back in the CLE, it was a whole lot of driving back and forth between the East and West sides to see all of the rockin’ family Tom and I are lucky to have – all of the usual suspects, the Rays and the Teschkes, with some added bonuses such as Lucy, the nicest kitty ever (with my husband the cat lady),


Liam, the reluctant big brother to my beautiful new niece, who as he gets older is getting worse and worse breath and likes to be closer and closer to your face,


Tom’s grandma, Ann, who at 93 is funnier and sassier than I could ever hope to be (and check that oxblood mani!),


and my bestie, Auddy, who is as un-yesburgers at selfie-ing as I am.


We also did plenty of fun stuff, like making creepy masks out of wrapping paper rolls while drunk on mulled cider,


going out to dinner in our beloved Ohio City,


and shooting guns (Tom for the very first time, and he hit the target every shot, booyah!).  The matching Christmas PJ pants Mom made us all wear really up the manly factor here on my brother and my hubby, dontchathink?


And so, after much holiday-ing and family-ing, we got up verrrrrrrrry early the day after Christmas and headed to the airport!  Super excited and jittery, I made sure we had our passports for the billionth time, checked in, went through security, and toward our plane we were signature New York run/walking when Tom said “Tara.”  Now, when Tom says my actual name and not ‘babe’ or ‘hey’ or ‘sweetberrywine!‘ I know it’s serious.  Not like when your mom says your middle name through gritted teeth and you know you’re in huge trouble, but something is most definetly wrong when I hear my name.  I stopped and turned to him, and he was white.  My head automatically thinks PASSPORTS, since I’ve been having nightmares about losing them or forgetting them or something for weeks leading up to our trip, but nope, even worse.  Eyes huge, he spits out, “My wedding ring is gone.  Iputitonthismorningandnowit’snotonmyhandandidon’tknowwhereitis.”  My heart drops, and I take a minute to collect my thoughts, which mostly consist of “Only Tom.  Only the day we leave for our honeymoon!  Only a few days before our anniversary!!! GAAAHHHRAGEMONSTER!”  I manage to hold back the anger and tears enough to see he’s clearly really upset, too, and looking for some reassurance, so I reminded him how affordable it was, how it’s just a piece of metal and we can get a new one when we get back, and that it’s probably in his parents’ car or something.  He ran back to security hoping they’d found it, but no luck and by then it was time to get on the plane.  We had a few minutes of silence before we shake it off and get ready to take off from this winter wonderland,

and hold hands while we fly toward our already less-than-yesburgers honeymoon, determined to make this shit EPIC from here on in.

…and it was, oh it was, but you’ll have to wait a day or two to hear about the rest.  This shit is far too long already!  LOVE YOU BETCHES.  Talk at you in a day or so.

This entry was published on January 4, 2014 at 11:59 pm. It’s filed under Randomz and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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