You wanna know the worst part about heading to an airport while tired and tipsy and in a big ass hurry? You forget shit.
Such was the case when we went on the honeymoon. On the plane, I realized "shit! I forgot my makeup! and my toothbrush! and my comb!"
My first thought was that this wasn't too big of a deal because I don't really wear very expensive makeup so I could just replace it when we landed.
And I had every intention of doing so (and I did get a new toothbrush and comb because seriously, that I really couldn't go without), but then I realized something.
While Patrick and I did go out to lunch and dinner everyday (um, we never made it out for breakfast. ever. the entire trip) and we did do some shopping, for the most part, our activities outside of the hotel room involved the ocean and/or beach.
Not only that, but because of the salt water, we were showering all the time. So half way through the honeymoon, I decided "screw it". I'm going makeupless on this strike.
It was a very strange, yet freeing sensation. I've been wearing makeup daily for as long as I can remember--at least ten years or so. I don't wear a lot of makeup, but foundation, blush, eye shadow, mascara--it's a process.
I have to say, I definitely didn't miss it as much as the days went by. At first I could swear everyone was staring at my face like "whoa", but that wore off and my comfort set in.
I tell you this because for the next few days, I am going to be sharing some photos of myself. And when you go "whoa", just know that I forgot my damn makeup and also I don't care. There. I said it.
On the second day of the honeymoon, Patrick and I went snorkeling. I had never been. In fact, I had never even swam with flippers on! My uncle is a scuba instructor living in St. Croix, so you'd think I'd be a natural. Turns out, it's a lot trickier than I anticipated.
Above is the boat that we took out to snorkel. There were probably about 30 people on board to snorkel too. The boat was enormous. And, of course, it came with an open bar.
The first stop was over this sunken ship. Patrick brought his underwater camera/video camera and got some really cool shots. I, however, missed seeing the ship because I was busy having a panic attack because the water was rough, I kept drifting out to sea because I didn't know how to use the damn flippers and there were 50 other lifevested snorkelers in the water and I felt like I was experiencing Titanic style mass drownings.
Luckily, the second stop was a lot better. The waters were calm and the peeps were a lot more spread out. It was so crazy to just put your mask in the water and realize you were surrounded with millions of little fish! Kinda creepy, but super fucking awesome. Except when the white instructor, which I called Snuba Steve, decided to fuck with me by getting me in a school of fish that nibbled at you (and to do this he grabbed one of the fish by the hand, snapped it in half and fed it to the other fish). Of course, I squealed and was temporarily traumatized.
But it was fun and absolutely gorgeous in the water. I ended up getting the hang of it and rocked at it (though I stayed clear of Snuba Steve. what a dick.). Plus, Patrick and I totally got the cheesy married couple photos down as you can see. "Oh! Here we are snorkeling down in the Caribbean. Remember that, honey?"
Cotton Sundress-vintage and gifted; Sheer Button Up-Liz Claiborne, thrifted; Fedora-K-Mart; Sandals-Payless; Aquarius Necklace-Target; Bracelets-old and DIY and gifted; Earrings-gifted
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