How I Might Have Broken International Law... And Other Tales from Our Honeymoon

So I guess I have to face it- I am that girl who just can't say no.

This isn't necessarily because I have no spine, self-esteem, or father figure in my life. I personally like to think my eagerness to please people stems from a deep rooted, Christlike love I innately have for people. Ha ha.

Or maybe I am just a total sucker.

I’ll start at the beginning. For our honeymoon we were able to go on a 7 day Caribbean cruise, made possible by Cruise.com's "hot December deals", my dad's generosity with his frequent flier miles, and the little stash of cash we were able to save by only going to Cafe Rio once a week during the month of December. (A sacrifice, I know.) The cruise ship was absolutely amazing; never before have I enjoyed the presence of so many rich foreigners or soft serve ice cream cones. Our ship’s first stop was on the island of St. Thomas. It was beautiful. But since its main tourist attraction consisted of a rock covered in iguanas and a strip mall of duty-free handbag shops, there wasn’t much for Brock and I to do. Even tax-free, Gucci and Prada purses are a little out of my newlywed price range. (I did however purchase a solid $10 pair of “Mary Kate Olsen-esque” orange sunglasses at some French named boutique on the ship. Much more at my level.) We also went to Aruba, Grenada and Bonaire, where we were entertained aboard a glass bottomed boat by a chain-smoking Dutchman who literally told the same joke at least seven times. He was a gracious tour guide, however, and even provided us with some little melty cheese things and some sort of weird Salmon wrap creation.

The next island, Dominica, was where my refusal skills were truly tested. Dominica is one of those islands where the tourist industry is pretty much the only way for the natives to make money. The island has this beautiful pair of waterfalls which they have whored out completely, turning it into a merchant filled tourist trap. And man, are these merchants aggressive! Most normal people just say no or ignore these people completely when attacked with watered down cologne and novelty keychains. But I always feel the need to stop, humor them and pretend to be interested in the crap they are selling. I don’t know why! I always just feel so bad… I bought a $1 paper flower from a woman who had only about a third of her teeth. Her sales pitch-“it’s for the children!” – is what got me. We somehow ended up in a crucifix adorned tour van, and after being shown the island’s waterfalls, hot springs and random medical school, we thanked our guide and driver with a tip. This is when the driver asked us for a favor. Of course I said yes before even knowing what it was. (See, SO Christlike, right?!) They wanted us to go get them a drink. I figured they probably wanted a Pepsi or Sprite or something. Those tour vans were pretty hot, after all. Then, after looking around and ensuring no eyes were upon us, he sneakily slipped us $18 with instructions to get the large bottle of Bailey’s Original from the duty-free liquor store. The store that the island natives are forbidden to enter. I should have just given back the money and refused to participate in this illegal, immoral transaction. But instead, I just nodded and dragged my astonished, disgusted new husband across the street to the liquor store, while our thirsty tour guides waited anxiously in their van. I’m pretty sure Brock was contemplating a marriage annulment throughout the entire transaction. Who knew his wife had such a lack of integrity? Buying alcohol for our tour guides? Well, maybe if I weren’t so naïve, I would have realized that the phrase “buy us a drink” only refers to Pepsi in Provo, Utah.

Luckily the little exchange went off without a hitch and we were soon back on the cruise ship, sailing away from Dominica forever. Brock still loves me, despite my momentary lack of sound judgement. So far, no customs authorities have tracked us down. Let’s just hope this blog doesn’t fall into the wrong hands, huh?

It's time to face it. I am now a mature, married grown-up. I am somebody's wife, for heaven's sake! It's high time I learn to "just say no."

Here are a few (possibly incriminating) pictures of the honeymoon:

Brock kept wanting to take pictures of the cruise ship. Every time it docked. Because you know, maybe one of these times it's going to suddenly look very different.

My cute husband and a not so cute iguana.

No, I didn't feel the need to wear makeup that day. Or any other day, come to think of it.

Snorkeling. The Dutch guy with the crappy jokes and salmon snacks took this picture.

Glass bottomed boat. It was advertised as once belonging to a friend of Jacques Cousteau. Probably the most claustrophobic, yet scientific, I have ever felt in my life.

Brock posing by ye olde historic artillery. I sheepishly discovered recently that I have been using the word "artillery" wrong my entire life. No, it is not a ranking you earn in the military. Actually, the sheer fact that I have been casually incorporating "artillery" into conversations is also quite embarrassing.

See the dollar bill in this snake charmer's hand? I told you- Dominica has literally whored out all natural beauty their island has to offer.

Turns out, fake coconut is much better than the real stuff.

Dominican waterfall. This was right before I fell off a slippery rock.

And post slippery rock. This picture doesn't do it justice. It was quite the battle wound.

And finally, caught in the act. In case any former/present church leaders, parents or particularly saintly acquaintances see this, I DIDN'T DRINK A DROP! And I'll never support anyone else's consumption either. Promise.