The Beaches of Alabama

One year ago, we stood at the front of the church where we met and said 'I do'. Okay, so it was a year and 15 days ago, and I'm a bit behind on my blogging. The point is that we made it and we can officially stick our tongues out and say 'neiner neiner neiner' to anyone who took the 'under' line.

To celebrate this occasion, we headed down to Alabama to spend a few days on the beach and watch Ryan's cousin Chris marry his fiancee Brandy. Well to be exact, first we got a map and Ryan explained to me how it was possible for Alabama to have a beach, as I was convinced they had mistakenly given us the wrong location when they said 'beach wedding'. I'm not exactly sure what I thought Alabama looked like, but my vision certainly didn't include the beach.

Once convinced that we would in fact get to go to a 'real' beach, we packed up, and then unpacked 4 pounds worth of clothes and an umbrella (may that stylish rain barrier rest in peace in the trash bins of the Eastern Iowa International Airport), and made our 4 state journey to join Ryan's family on their already started vacation. It was dark when we arrived, so we had to wait until Saturday morning to see the glorious white sand. Once awake and thoroughly impressed with my very first visit to a Waffle House, we suited up and headed to the loungechairs.

I loooooooooove the beach, but I'm not a big fan of the actual water. In case you didn't know this about me, I'll catch you up real quick: 1.) Fish are gross, 2.) One tried to eat me once, and perhaps most importantly, 3.) Sharks live in there. I tend to spend all of my time on a beach on the actual beach where I am safe from megaladon except for the occasional toe that sneaks into the water in the interest of saying 'I was in INSERT NAME HERE body of water!' Something about Alabama though must have made me feel invincible as I put my whole foot into the water, then the other, then my calves, and then practically my whole self:

Don't let the beauty fool you - there is an endless list of gross and frightening animals that were lurking, just waiting to make me their mid-morning snack. Satisfied with my bravery and all of my limbs still being intact, we called it a win and headed back to our room to get ready for the wedding. Well, first we made a run for clam chowder and a shrimp po' boy.

Ryan had two very important jobs at this wedding - best man and musician. So he got into his suit, talked me out of wearing my swimsuit to the ceremony (Brandy said I could wear WHATEVER I wanted...), and got in place while I somehow wedged myself into the seat between his parents (still sorry about that one!) and admired how cute and talented my better half is.

After a brief and beautiful ceremony, we headed to stuff ourselves with yummy Italian food at the reception before saying our goodbyes to the rest of the family (who had to head home the next day) and checking into our hotel for the night. The next morning was our actual anniversary, so we exchanged cards, Ryan went out to get me a coffee, and then we treated ourselves to another meal at the Waffle House. Seriously - so good!

When our waffles were gone, we raced back to the hotel to suit up again and spend some more time on the beach. I channeled my inner She-Ra again and waded even further into the Atlantic Ocean (Gulf of Mexico? Are those two separate oceans? Which one touches Alabama? I'm still a little foggy on the geography) than I had the day before. I was frolicking and picking up shells and had nearly forgotten the looming danger of man-eating fish when I went to look at a specific shell and I SAW A SHARK!!!!!!!

It was at least 10 feet long and had three rows of teeth! I battled tirelessly and finally poked one of it's eyes out as my fight-or-flight response kicked in and I made my own turnicutt out of my swimsuit straps before finally swimming to shore. Or was it 6 inches long and swimming along minding it's own business while I ran as fast as I could, splashing and screaming the 5 feet back to the sand? Either way, it was traumatic and awful and I refused to get back in after that. Instead, we took a walk along the beach and I took somewhere between 2 and 3 thousand pictures of the water. Here are the two I whittled down as my favorites:

Seriously...Alabama...who knew?!? It being our anniversary, we felt obligated to mark the occasion with at least one cheesy photo:

And as we were trying to fit ourselves and an ocean (gulf?) in the same photo, a nice passerby offered to take one for us:

Yes, I was sunburnt. And no we didn't spend all day in the sun - more like an hour or two. This Iowa lack-o-sunshine is killing my dreams of being golden brown.

Tired from the still fresh-in-my-mind shark encounter and the aerobic walk through the sand, we loaded up on aloe and snacks and were in our pajamas by 6pm...not all that different from our wedding day, in fact.

On our third and final day in Alabama, we headed to the pier featured in the above photo and decided to stroll along and look at the water from the saftey of the railing. The first thing we saw was a GIGANTIC green cloud in the water that we quickly defined as seaweed:

Fascinated, I leaned over the railing and zoomed my camera hoping to catch a cool photo of the seaweed billowing in the waves. Instead, I saw about a billion fish all congregated together, assuredly plotting how they would capture and then devour me:

Don't even try to tell me that's not the most disgusting thing you've ever seen. It has to be.

Being the kind and loving man that he is, Ryan quickly moved closer to me and started calmly rubbing my back and promising that he wouldn't let them get me. We walked about twenty more feet and then stopped again to look out into the water. Apparently I'm a sadist.

As we were watching, I SWORE I saw a shark. A legit one. Not wanting to cause a wave of panic throughout the pier, I gently tugged at Ryan's hand, pointed slowly, and whispered 'I think I see a shark.' He began looking and then pointed out Shark #1's friend, Shark #2. And then Shark #3.

And then he very helpfully estimated that each was probably 4 - 5 feet long. I'm 5'1. I want no part of a shark that is 6 inches, let alone one that is LITERALLY as big as I am! We, again not wanting to spread panic, began trying to snap a picture. A very nice lady came over and asked us what we were photographing, and we very softly told her we thought we saw a shark, and she said, 'Oh yeah - that's what all these fishermen are trying to catch. It's really cool when you see them pull one over the side.'

Let me get this straight. People attach fish guts to a string that is spun through a tiny pole and then TRY to catch a wild animal the size of a person with THREE ROWS of teeth that wants to eat them?!? It was at that moment that I really focused in on my surroundings and noticed what had to be 50 fishermen lining each side of the pier. That could potentially mean 50+ sharks at any given time ON the pier. Where I am. And I swear to baby Jesus himself, I heard the 'Jaws' song start playing.

Now officially over the water AND the pier, I was more than ready to return home to the safety (and snow!) of Iowa. We instead went in search of mini golf, crab cakes for me, and another shrimp po' boy for the Mr. (apparently they're really good) before topping it off with fried bananas drizzled in chocolate to celebrate our special day.

On the plane ride home, we mutually decided that we've had so much fun this year that we will be extending our contracts for another 12 months. Until next year, Happy Anniversary from the Atlantic Ocean? Gulf of Mexico? beaches of Alabama!