I'm sorry, Internet. Here I've been blathering over superficial matters like the salvation of my soul when I promised to enlighten you about the fabulous trip that was Luke's and my honeymoon.
And I would, if that new husband of mine hadn't beaten me to it.
His write-up is a pretty good one, so just go and read that. However, I will say I learned more about my shortcomings in those four days than during the course of my twenty-six years of life. Like:
I am no good at driving. Frema's a very lucky girl in that, for the most part, Luke does all the driving. In this case, there were nine hours of quality car time to endure--five and a half from northern Indiana to Michigan, where we spent the night in a hotel where the idea of a continental breakfast consisted of a Frosted Flakes dispenser and a box of Hostess Donuts, and three and a half hours to Canada. The day before, halfway to said hotel, I offered to take over and unwittingly proceeded to steer us forty-five minutes in the completely opposite direction. So, not only did I tack on an extra hour and a half to the trip, it was raining on and off ALL DAY, meaning a journey that should've taken fewer than six hours ended up equaling almost the entire length of the trip. Next morning I was eager to prove to Luke I could get behind the wheel without repeating imbecile behavior like confusing I-69 with I-96. This leads directly into my next item.
I am no good at customs. Because I was driving, our safe passage through Candian customs solely depended on my ability to utilize common sense. Apparently, though, such positions of power render me unable to take advantage of my brain bank, because when asked about our citizenship, I answered Illinois, even though it's been four years since I owned a Windy City driver's license and, you know, IT'S NOT A COUNTRY, and when questioned about the possession of firearms and/or other defensive weapons, and I actually paused to stare at Luke in wonder, like, I don't know, honey, DID we pack our nine-millimeter automatic?
Luke was not pleased.
"For future reference, we are from the United States," he said, once we (surprisingly) crossed the border. "Also, if someone asks you about weapons, just say no."
I am no good at gambling. That first night in Canada, we had a nice dinner and decided to treat ourselves to an evening of fun and potential profit at Casino Niagara. It was my first time participating in gaming activity, and I didn't expect to feel so intimidated by the hoards of men and women who probably TiVo shows like The History of Poker and rip the pants off their grandmas in no-mercy marathons of Texas Hold'em. I'd been so excited at the thought of sitting in front of the dealer, maliciously stroking my piles of winning chips, slapping the palm of my hand on that luscious green table cover until I remembered professional dealers aren't as willing to answer your questions during a hand, even the most thought-probing ones, like "How much is the ace is worth again?" and "When is it MY turn?" This meant Luke represented the Frema-Useless Clutter household by default, and he actually won thirty bucks at Black Jack, but I was so, "Do it again!" "Again!" "Yeah, baby, AGAIN!" that we walked away with nothing. I then proceeded to whittle away another six dollars at the slots because I liked pulling the silver lever.
In my defense, I am VERY good at finishing off a quarter pound of cookies'n cream fudge, falling asleep in the car, and pouting over the the rain we experienced at some point EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. of our honeymoon. Luke is already counting his blessings.
* I had pictures to share with you, but Blogger is being a stupidhead, so I'll have to try again tomorrow. In the meantime, will wedding proofs do? Find 'em by visiting this Web site, clicking "Online Proofing," and finding our last names. Enjoy.
Actually, while I am more than glad to be back home in the States, I still miss a few things about Canada, like the abbreviation for the Ontario Provincial Police and having Queen Elizabeth on most of the money despite the fact she isn't their monarch.
O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
Posted by: Luke | June 02, 2006 at 12:58 AM
Thanks for sharing those pictures. You picked a great photographer.
Posted by: Fraulein N | June 02, 2006 at 01:11 AM
LOL on the Customs... I totally pictured your face when asking about the 9MM. You're too friggin' funny!
And really... your wedding pix? I just keep looking and thinking the umbrellas have added to the photos. I'm not just tellin' you that to make you feel better.
You don't have any weird, harsh shadows that you normally get on sunny days.
The umbrellas have added a touch of romance and style. And having been there the day was really cold and wet but NONE of that chilly misery comes across in the photography.
Just so you know.
Posted by: Number Twelve | June 02, 2006 at 01:55 AM
Promise me you'll hang #106 in your house somewhere. If not, maybe I will.
Posted by: Number Twelve | June 02, 2006 at 01:59 AM
Aren't Honeymoons fun??
(Okay, I have days of stories about me being an idiot at customs. Good thing you and I won't be traveling to Canada together anytime soon. They would lock us both up!)
Posted by: Isabel | June 02, 2006 at 04:38 AM
OH! Pictures! Am loving the pictures!
And also the customs stories. Patrick made the mistake once of letting me drive on an extended car trip. Its not really that I'm such a bad driver...he's just kind of a control freak. That's my story and I'm sticking to it...
But when we drive up to Martha's Vineyard over Labor Day, he's going to have to let me drive some. Its just too far to do it all yourself. Insert evil laugh here...
Posted by: PaintingChef | June 02, 2006 at 12:47 PM
When I visited London in 1996, I had an interesting run-in with British Customs. Apparently, there was a member of the IRA by the name of William Shannon and that name was on a terrorist watch list. Freaky.
Anyway, I hate to whitter about the queen's role in Canada, but she is actually the monarch of Canada. She is the de jure Head of State as Canada is a member of the Commonwealth. The Governor General, appointed by H.M., is the de facto Head of State.
While their roles are mostly ceremonial (Prime Minister Stephen Harper is the Head of Government), they are still technically at the top.
Again, sorry to nitpick. Glad you enjoyed your trip.
Posted by: Will Shannon | June 02, 2006 at 02:32 PM
Well done on pictures (photographers really come up with some crazy poses, don't they?)
I especially love #121 of the 2 of you and you look so pretty especially in #75.
Thanks for sharing!
Posted by: Jenabeeb | June 02, 2006 at 05:26 PM
I forgot about being able to see the pictures online! Thanks for the reminder-they all look fabulous!
Posted by: butterflygirl | June 03, 2006 at 12:10 AM
You cracked me up with the customs thing. I also love the picture of you under the falls over on Luke's blog.
Putting pictures online is very cool. You guys have some really great ones!!
(Bout damn time I commented, eh? And hey, where ya been?)
Posted by: Lost a Sock | June 03, 2006 at 02:34 AM
Going through customs can be an intimidating moment. Besides if you were packing heat for reasons of violence and destruction, then are you going to fess up up to the customs guard, "yes, we have a case load of uzis and 5 AK-47s in a secret compartment in the back seat."
Posted by: mjd | June 04, 2006 at 09:30 AM
You are too funny! I totally understand the thrill of being in a casino when it's something other than Poker. I like roulette and it's hard to walk away from that table.
It was GREAT to see you two this weekend. ;) Dan and I love when you come to visit!! ;)
Posted by: Sambo V. | June 04, 2006 at 04:36 PM