Wedding Wednesday... How I Met the Mister

This post could also be titled "Hey, boy, hey."The story will explain a little better as to why I say that.

The beginning...

Four years ago, I was in grad school, working full time, and an intern at a high school when I moved from a house right near my job and internship into an apartment in a nicer neighborhood (that's a whole diff story that includes opossums!). A few months later, I quit my full-time job and had A LOT more free time on my hands. So, with all my free time I would sit on my back patio with the striped dog (cough... drinking wine... cough). After a few days, I noticed this really cute guy walking his own two boxers the same time everyday. I would wave and he would wave back. Then, he started walking shirtless (it may be because it was warm out or it may be due to a slightly buzzed girl waving a lot). In response, I started wearing low cut shirts and tank tops. After a few chats, I started walking the striped dog with the two blonde dogs almost everyday.  While wearing my low cut shirts.

 At this point, we hadn't gone on a date, exchanged phone numbers, nothing. One random day, I totally got a weird crick in my neck and it wouldn't move, so I went over and told the Mister no dog walks for me indefinitely. A little but later, the Mister shows up at my front door and asks if I want to go for a drive to the bookstore. We went, talked and had fun. All with a weird crick in my neck and wearing sweats. Cute.  Then, the Mister started accepting my invitations to come over for dinner almost every day. We exchanged phone numbers to make it official. Love at first sight, right? Essentially, I was all "Hey, boy, hey" in my low cut shirts and he was cheap and easy. True Love.

All the boxers. 

This Ain't No Kids Game

All I need is my boxed wine....

So... I think I maybe killed my liver this weekend. For some reason, we thought it would be a good idea to day drink immediately after getting done taking photos on Saturday. 

Needless to say Kala, the Mister and I totes earned all the Straw-ber-ritas we drank. The Mister is too good for Straw-ber-ritas, so he drank.... I have no idea what he drank. We ended up at Mi Ranchito, with the Mister downing Patron like it's his job and margs as big as our heads. Which ain't good. Tequila makes me cry. Not the pretty, cute little alligator tears. The other kind- the snot on your face, crying for no reason cry #Keepin'ItClassy. Thank goodness that didn't happen to me. I think I diluted the one marg with enough boxed wine to be safe. My other bestie, Jen came over and joined in. And by joined in, I mean drank two beers and silently judged us. It was def a yoga pants kinda day. 

At my parents house #familytime

Sunday, my Pops totally fixed my car. Turns out, it wasn't really broken I just hadn't put the gas cap back on tight enough. Womp womp. So, we engaged in an activity that we do best. Drinking Miller Light. I like to think we were practicing for the Fourth of July. I mean you gotta get your liver right to celebrate 'Merica.

On a side note, if you don't follow me on Instagram, you totally should. It's pictorial evidence of the awesomeness that is the daily happenings of my life. It's like Twitter, but different :) I say that because Twitter is where I share my unhealthy obsession with #trashytv. My name is Tracie1213 on both. Find me.