James Zachery and I are most certainly not known for our ability to sit still and/or reverently. Nor are we known for our normalcy. Being as we hadn't gone on an adventure since Snowboard-A-Palooza, we felt like we were way overdue for a date of running from reality. Where did we flee to, you ask? Only one of the most beautiful places on the East Coast-- Carillon Beach in the Gulf of Florida.
Zach's spring break conveniently aligned with our restlessness, allowing us to take a not-long-enough-but-better-than-nothin' weekend trip to the Gulf. Zach rode down on Thursday with Mrs. Christine McClure (Mommy McClure) while I suffered through Thursday and Friday at work-- and boy do I mean suffered. In hind-sight, I'm not sure if day-dreaming about romping around on the beach with my fiancee kept me sane and gave me the motivation to push through or if it was completely counter productive. I'm 90% sure that I spent both days gazing longingly into space envisioning somewhere I'd rather be. In short-- the last 2 days of my work week were a complete wash.
2 long and lonely days-- a half a bag of Blazin' Buffalo Doritos-- an hour long hunt for an iPhone car charger-- 6hrs-- 3 states-- getting pulled over but never ticketed twice--and a whole lot of newly pioneered curse words later... I had arrived! Needless to say, I was slightly less-sane than I was upon my departure, but who's counting!?
Despite our grogginess, we decided to start Saturday morning out with a relaxing walk on the beach where I managed to acquire my very first tan-lines of the season. Walking on the beach is an activity of therapeutic nature that both my mother and I partake in on our annual 4 week trip to the Atlantic side of Florida. We all know that I go a lil' nuts with excessive running-- the same neurotic tendencies carry over to my beach-walking. I could go for miles and hours at a time. [On one of our previous beach trips Zach actually came looking for me-- I think they were worried that the crazy lady with wind blown hair might have gotten lost.] It was on this leisurely stroll that we were reminded how unappreciative the bottoms of our feet were of unstable surfaces; furthermore, it was were we began formulating an answer to the million dollar question...
"How are you guys getting married!?"
We've without a doubt driven our parents to the point of lunacy with our laid-back indecisiveness about our "wedding." As if us calling the big event off wasn't disruptive enough-- we had yet to solidify a Plan B... . you know, we like to keep people on the roller coaster that is "Zach and Maxine" for as long as possible. Needless to say-- it was a very productive walk. But that doesn't mean we're opening our big fat mouths quite yet. We need to let this chicken stew in its respective egg before it hatches.
We enjoyed some modest shopping and dinner at the delicious Pompano Joe's-- coconut shrimp and mango chutney=yes please. And then of course we had to have desert-- it is the McClure mission to sample and critique frozen yogurt boutiques. Zach devoured his vanilla, pina colada and chocolate blend topped with fudgie brownies while I dabbled in a more adult formula-- raspberry with assorted gummy bears. These weren't just any gummy bears, people. They were soft, flavorful, tiny and had more flavors than I have fingers!
We spend Sunday morning at church and reading by the pool. I started the most fascinating book-- "Labor of Love: One Man's Journey Through Pregnancy," or something of that nature. Zach protected himself from the sun and I showed off my new bathing suit-- a gift from my brown eyed boy.
6hrs-- 3 states-- 2 candy bars-- a pack of gummy worms-- and a 30 degree difference in temperature later we had arrived back in Atlanta sun-kissed and longing for more time in the sand. Zach and I had a lot of time to talk and reflect on the events of our engagement-- I even convinced him to try to wedding bands while we were there! Reluctantly he obliged in following me into Kay Jewlers-- since most men [mine in particular] are not willingly ring-wear-ers, I wanted Zach to try a few on and figure out what kind of material he was most comfortable with. After figuring his correct ring size I watched as he tried on ring after ring.. as he slipped the last ring onto his left hand, I locked my eyes on that fuzzy knuckled little finger and shamelessly and excitedly blurted out to the entire store...
"We're getting MARRIED!!!!!!"
It was as if I was suffering form a relentless case of verbal diarrhea. The sales woman commented on how adorable we were and the store manager attempted to soothe my excitement by cleaning my ring for me.
We're home. Safe. Sound. Grateful. Exhausted. In love.
Z+M
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