Thank God for Snapchat


On Sunday morning, I laid in bed trying to decide if I was hungover or not. I started to review the amount of free drinks I had consumed and tried to remember the last few moments of my night. Finally, I recalled staring at my snoring boyfriend and eating leftover meatloaf and mashed potatoes in bed while Avatar played in the background. I wasn’t sure what time I’d actually fallen asleep after that, but I knew it had to be around 12:30 a.m., an early night for us.

I started piecing the night together as I reached for my constantly dying phone to review my Snapchat story. The best part about this social media app? Each picture or video is only available for 24 hours. It’s perfect for people like me who want to easily document their days, track who’s viewing my story and live without the terrifying feeling that I’ve uploaded something during a drunken stupor that I can’t take back — kind of. Did I mention the filters are on point?!

The first snaps were all dedicated to early Saturday morning adventures at the 13th annual Miller Lite Weekend Warrior Flag Football Tournament at Bank of America Stadium. I didn’t go on my own volition (in case you’re wondering), I was invited to support the boyfriend who’s been participating for years.

I’ve really never been the type that wanted to engage in extracurricular physical activities. And now that I work full time, you definitely won’t catch me playing outdoors. Needless to say, when he woke me up around 7 a.m. preparing for the tournament after a late night, I was unamused.

After a couple pictures and videos of the early morning game prep, I came across a picture of me sitting in the grass with my legs crossed, a Miller Lite pint can in front of me and the caption, “It’s 5 o’clock somewhere.” That was around 11:30 a.m. After his final game, there was a snap of grilled hanger steak benedict and bottomless mimosas at Napa on Providence. By this time, we were only three hours away from a wedding ceremony we were planning to attend. That meant, nap time.

Before we knew it, we were rushing to get ready and head to the church. On the way there, I shared memories from my first adult wedding experience last year. Long story short, I was running late and I ended up walking into the ceremony after the bride had walked down the aisle — fitting for a “#awkward.” As it turns out, we made yet another tardy wedding arrival. As we walked in, we watched the bride enter the church.

Nevertheless, we managed to sneak in for the remainder of the ceremony and even catch the sights of the bride and groom as they exited the church. My boyfriend fist pumped the groom as he passed. The groom leaned in smiling and whispered, “Better late than never.” (Note to self: next time leave 20 minutes earlier than planned.)

After the ceremony, we were shuttled to the Duke Mansion for the reception — I managed to snag a “we”-fie (instead of selfie) of the boyfriend and I before things got hazy. An absolutely breathtaking bed and breakfast featuring 20 guest rooms, the secluded location and green landscape can make it easy to forget you’re even in Charlotte. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when I came across a snap of the backyard as the sun set and guests enjoying cocktail hour. Did I mention, there was an open bar?

A couple grapefruit vodkas later, we gathered in the main dining area as the bride and groom shared their first dance. And by this time, it seemed everyone was feeling the stimulating effects of alcohol consumption. The boyfriend and I laughed as we realized how quickly this wedding was going to shift in energy from quiet to rowdy, and we weren’t complaining.

As I continued to review my Snapchat story and the night’s excitement started flooding back, I relived the point at which I had gone from classy to trashy in a series of snaps, all of which featured feet. The first was of my feet in a pair of gold pumps and a caption with dogs and crying faces that read, “my dogs were aching.” The second was of an older lady’s one-inch heels and it read, “I’m actually jealous of her kitten heels.” The third, was a picture of my bare feet on the black and white marble floor of the Duke Mansion, inscribed with “#basic.”

The reception concluded after what seemed like hours of dancing barefoot surrounded by other bare feet, young and old. Honestly, I’ve never been a huge fan of weddings, but if every one of them, including my own, ends with barefoot dancing in a beautiful venue, I won’t complain.

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