Aruba, Jamaica, Ooh I wanna take ya...

To Mexico!

So, Danny and I decided to go down to an all-inclusive resort in the Riviera Maya in Mexico for our honeymoon. 5 days, 4 nights, all paid for, wonderful weather, entertainment, just the two of us, sounds fantastic. It actually was pretty nice, really nice, a good trip overall, but it had a few hiccups along the way.

Let's begin with months before the trip. Thanks to our new secure world we live in, you now have to have a passport to get into and out of Mexico. So Danny and I went out one cold, February morning to get our pictures taken and submit the paperwork to get our passports...months in advance, like good, responsible travelers. Head to Walgreens to get the photos done for $8 each. Now, I'm not sure why I decided a hooded sweatshirt was the way to go for this photo, but my picture turned out with me looking like a very pale, very sleepy psychopath with a big bunchy gray hood pushing my not-so-neatly-pulled-back hair into a big mess. And for your passport, they only use about 1 square inch of your face, so it really focuses in on the fact that make-up didn't quite factor into my morning that day. Cute!

So then we head to the city post office (not the one closest to our house, they no longer do passports...the one furthest away) to submit all our previously filled out paperwork (let me interject here that my husband-to-be, whom I love dearly and with all my heart, had filled out his own paperwork which is fine, but he chose the "do this as fast as you possibly can and don't really read the instructions at all" that is always so successful). Well, I got all my stuff submitted (which also included a birth certificate which was like $25 per person) and Danny, low and behold, had to re-fill out his paperwork because he signed a box that was not intended to be signed accept in the presence of the postal worker only. Oops!

We got it all done and paid $200 ($100 per person) and went home filled with the anticipation of getting the passport in all it's glory!

Cut to a few weeks later...

My passport arrives, bright and shiny in the mail with my BEAUTIFUL PHOTO in all it's glory and I cringe and accept that it will have to be shown to people in multiple countries and move on. In the next few days to follow, Danny's passport doesn't come. And it doesn't come. And it doesn't come. What does come? A HUGE packet of paperwork and note that basically says, we've randomly selected you to be a possible criminal so you have to give us your life story in a 1 X 3 inch space in black or blue ink.

This was a nightmare! At first, we put the papers aside and didn't think about the stress of them. Then, as the days dwindled away, I encourage the love of my life to perhaps, take a gander at what was required of him and maybe even fill out some of the information. I will say that this thing was ridiculous. He had to list all his former residences, everywhere he ever lived, everywhere he EVER WORKED and all his previous employers/managers/ and know start and end dates for EVERYTHING. If you know Danny, you know that he's not a big record keeper, or fan of being told what to do by authority. It took weeks to get this done and in the end, some of his managers had names like "Mike Rotch" (say it quickly) and so on, and there were many scribbled out things and re-writes, but we got it done and sent away and in literally 1 week, his passport came, which leads me to believe someone got his information and promptly shredded it.
Oh well!

Which brings us to the honeymoon. Again, Danny is my rock and my manly man, but a traveler...not so much. It was a bit stressful taking the train from Bloomington to Chicago and then getting to the hotel by taxi and then getting up at 4 am to catch the free shuttle to O'Hare and then getting through all the check points to the plane and then, "hey what's that plane noise" and "man these seats are uncomfortable" and the like, and then going through customs and then finding our shuttle and then "crap I have to pee" and then finding our resort and then "hey your room will be ready in 2 hours" and then "man this is the hardest mattress I've ever tried to comfortably fall back on...now I'm in traction." It was a day!

But not as upsetting as day 3 of our 5 day trip. By now, we had both been drinking like it was our job and Danny may have oversampled the tequila a bit (hell even I was doing shots of the stuff and that is so not my favorite thing at all). We decided to visit a sister resort and got there by a romantic golf cart ride. We were enjoying our time at the pool, slightly inebriated, when I noticed Danny was no longer sitting at the swim up bar (seriously, those things are fun!). He was standing at the opposite side of the bar, talking with some random guy. I decided to gather our things and meet him and then we'd grab some lunch. As soon as I was about 5 feet from him, clearly headed in his direction, the man abruptly turns, says goodbye, and quickly walks away. I hardly gave it much thought then. I asked Danny if he was ready to eat and he was. We walked about 10 feet and he started acting very drunk. A little unsteady on his feet and kind of loud. I thought he needed some food. We get our food and sit down and that's when I noticed his eyes. So weird. He couldn't focus on anything and he was slurring his words and so loud! I was thinking, fantastic, I have got to get your ass out of here and back to our room (which, remember was a golf cart's ride away). I get him to stand up and he almost falls flat on his face. People were now starting to notice us and our antics. I pushed him out the restaurant doors and he fell into a chair right outside and proceeded to speak nonsense about anything and everything. I was having no luck convincing him of my plan to go back to the room or of standing, so I thought...okay, we're going to have to sit in these chairs until he passes out and then I'm going to have to let him sleep it off in these chairs! I guess some of the other patrons alerted the resort people of my troubles and two men came and like it was nothing, hoisted Danny up and helped him to a golf cart. Thank god! I thought, we will get back to our room and he will pass out!

We started to go and then this never before seen rage came over Danny like and he kept insisting he was being controlled. I held his arms down to keep him from punching the golf cart seats. I was really starting to get scared now...not of him, but of what was wrong with him! I had never EVER seen him like this and he's been quite intoxicated a time or two. The cart drops us off and I wave them away with a thanks and a , sweet Jesus don't kick us out of here! Now, we faced 3 flights of stone stairs and I had a guy with a good 30 pounds on me to get up there. I again, pushed him from behind and he staggered, he was still upset and totally unaware of what was going on. When we got to the top to our room, I unlocked the door and pushed him in and after another 30 minutes or so of him not being in any right state of mind and talking, he fell asleep. He slept for about 3 hours and then woke up and had NO IDEA what had happened. He had no memory of anything and he was still kind of out of it. He really just wanted to go for a walk and clear his head. I said ABSOLUTLY NO WAY AM I LETTING YOU OUT OF MY SIGHT, but again, after some talking, I said he could go out if he came right back. He went. Now let me say here, when we got to our room on the first day, we noticed the phone wasn't working. We left a request at the front desk to have it fixed, but it hadn't been fixed yet. Also, both of our cell phones were dead and he hadn't yet purchased an outlet adaptor so we could plug them in to charge. So I had NO WAY of contacting anyone besides our neighbors. I prayed my husband of 3 days would be back soon.

He was. He said he couldn't figure out where he was so he came back to our room. I made him eat an apple and drink a sprite and then he fell back asleep. For 14 hours. We missed our dinner reservation to say the least. I had no food and didn't sleep, I just kept watching him breathe and I watched scribbly television, waiting for the guy I knew to come back. What in the hell was I going to do if he had an emergency? I knew I was in charge in this situation and I had to stay strong and calm and get us back to normal. So I just waited and watched, not sure what I was going to do if something else happened, but sure I wasn't going to let myself lose my mind. Finally, finally, he woke up in the night and after I retold the tale, he remember some of the day. He was back! Thank the lord! He said he felt really weird, like he was stoned and he was pretty freaked out, as was I, but I was so happy to have him back. Be it too much tequila or the weird man slipping him something in his drink, we didn't partake in too much alcohol the rest of the trip.

He still doesn't remember anything from the time the man walked away to waking up after 17 hours of sleep.

It was the weirdest experience of my life.

And now you know.

erin