Now we're broke-er

I forgot my camera this weekend when I left Oshkosh for Illinois to be a bridesmaid in my friend's wedding.

But, as it turns out, there are some images I won't forget. Even the ones I didn't actually see myself.

One being the cars driving by us on the road as we sat in my hot car in Red Robin's parking lot in Rockford, Ill., hearing it go "grr, grrr, grrrrr" as Dave turned the key, 45 minutes before I needed to be at the chapel. Another is the look on my face in the mirror as my makeup got wiped away both because of sweat and tears (no blood, ha!). Another of me, getting picked up to go to the church and Dave staying behind, waiting for AAA.

Then there's the image of Dave carrying a wedding present down the busy road in the sweltering heat in his suit, after the car got towed away because of what we'd wrongly assumed was just a dead battery. Then of him getting noticed by two women I work with, who were on their way to the wedding and drove by him going "That's ... Dave?" before they stopped to pick him up. I'd want to see the picture of their faces as he explained to them how we thought we'd have to come back some other day to get our car, as we weren't spending the night in Illinois.

Memories, man.

If these images were able to be printed, I'd tear up the one of Dave's face as he got the call from the car repair shop as we stood outside the chapel, as he whispered "Brace yourself. They said it's going to be $600." I'd be interested to see anything that happened from that moment onward, because I had tears in my eyes and I don't remember seeing much but persimmon and black blurs as people walked by.

I'm especially fond of the image of Dave trying to make me smile or at least stop throwing daggers at him with my eyes, as he tried to rationalize it with "It's OK, babe. We'll be OK." Even though $630 is a hefty chunk of previously mortgage-bound payments and I thought I was going to throw up.

I'd frame the image of me wondering if I could forget about morals long enough to sign up for that amateur "hot body" contest, so I could win that $1,000 prize. It should be blatantly stated that I immediately decided against it. But it was a good joke for about 30 seconds.

Only the best photographer could've captured the relief that must've been on my face as he told me that it wasn't $630. Just $590. Really. Oddly, that made me feel slightly better. And at the end of the night, I didn't feel like dancing too much. More like curling up on the couch and crying at home. God. Seriously.

Yup. Those are the scrapbook-worthy images from the wedding.

Oh, sure, she looked gorgeous in her dress. And I also cried over other things, like how she was shaking and smiling during the ceremony, the way her dad cried during her sister's toast, or the way she cried during their first dance. Trying to paint those images wouldn't do them justice. Ooh, Krista. So pretty.