Love. Lost. Love Remains.

To be quite honest, I am still in a surreal state where reality has not yet surfaced. It was less than a week before Jett left us that I had accidentally taught him a bad word, we read Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes before bed, we beat Ryson and Aspen at tramp-basketball (he scored the last 4 points!), we played catch while swimming at Norris and I gave him my Root Beer but made him carry it cause my hands were full. I kept him up way past his bedtime playing games, we went to Ryson and Aspen’s concert, he sat on my lap and we sang ”I Want To Hold Your Hand” together, he showed me his classroom, and I played a special game of Settlers with him. On Wednesday night, I was suppose to be last minute packing and cleaning my apartment while jetting off to tropical beaches in Hawaii the following morning. Instead, my plans were altered by rushing through the night to the hospital in Montana to say my final farewell to my beloved nephew. You want to hear the absolute worst sound in the world? Listen to the moaning and sobbing of a mother and father who lost their youngest son.

I was heart broken.

He was 7. He was in the 1st grade. On my next visit, I was planning on taking him on a special date. We had a special hug that I was supposed to receive at least a million more times. During Ryson’s basketball tournaments, he would always steal Heather’s cell phone, call me, and recite to me his exact movements. For a full 15 minutes, he once told me his dilemma of having to choose between licorice or skittles at the concession stand. I would receive spontaneous text messages with quirky phrases and pictures of plates of his food. For his birthdays, I would send him a card a day, plus 1, for each year of his age. I would put a dollar or more in each card, write a little note, and add a joke or a fun fact. The thought that I will never be able to do these things again is inconceivable. It’s not real. It can’t be.

When I had my time alone with him in his hospital room, it was reality. I could not deny the lack of a presence of a soul within his lifeless body. It was then when reality smacked me right in the face. There were hints of anger but they were quickly driven away by the knowledge of where he is and who he is with. But once I walked out of that room, the reality of his absence quickly diminished. The thought that this lovely, bright eyed, young boy would no longer walk on this Earth with us was shocking. Unfathomable. I would have better luck attempting to grasp onto a cloud and hang on it than accept that.

There have been a handful of instances when this reality momentarily flashed in my mind. The morning after he passed, I took Aspen to pick out a few movies and we went to the store to get some snacks. I was walking through the aisle and asked her what she wanted. Habitually, I almost asked her what we should get for Jett. It took me a moment to realize what I was thinking and to stop that thought before it left my lips. - Later that week, I was making a sandwich and was about to make fun of Jett because he didn’t like bread. But he wasn’t there to tease. - We went to Kung Fu Panda 2 and Jett was supposed to be there cause in March, we had watched that movie together in the back of the car on the way to Missoula. We both thought that movie was “awesome” and quoted it the whole way. - Aspen, Ryson, Jared and I were playing tramp-basketball and at one point the ball flew off the trampoline. Jett was always the first one to leap like a frog off the tramp and get the ball. I just stood there waiting for Jett to fly right by me to get the ball, as did everyone else. It took us all a couple seconds to realize that he wasn’t going to be getting the ball any longer.

Fortunately, in my life, I have only had two close people die. The first was my grandmother. She was my neighbor, my best friend. For 8 straight years, I went to her house everyday. Everyday. She was the one who inspired me to become an avid reader. She loved to read Mary Higgins Clark, so I decided to read Mary Higgins Clark. I even have a list of all of her published works and have read all of them. I flawlessly remember her singing “Heart & Soul” to me and there is never a time when I eat taffy or drink cranberry juice that I do not think of her. Her home was my asylum. My refuge. Her death was devastating. I started to write her letters and leave them at her grave which helped me cope with her absence. In fact, I still do. But the moment she left, my entire life changed. It was at that point in my life when I taught myself to hold the tears. My emotion was to be locked up. Healthy or not, it was what I did. And it is what I still do. I am a closet crier.

My grandma’s death took me years to get over and at times flashbacks of the pain reappear. The consequences of her cancer were foretold. Her death was a reality. Expected. No one, other than God, could have predicted what was to come on May 25th. This was an entire new genre of pain. The moment we left the hospital, my concentration was on the funeral and my family. Worrying about my sister, brother, nephew and niece took precedent. Whatever I could do to relieve any sort of pressure or pain was my main priority. I rekindled my ability to hold the emotion and though I often silently cried in front of friends and family, I have many soars on the inside of my lip from biting it to halt the tears. If I did not, there would have been a flashflood and I would not have been able to do what I had to do. I went through thousands of pictures and videos for his slideshow where I repeatedly saw his face in the photographs which accumulated over the past seven years. Slowly, memory by memory began to surface and his face was all I could see. In the wee hours of the morning, there were a few breakdowns, which were inevitable. But at the end of the night, the notion that the next morning he would come out in his Spongebob pajamas rose above all other thoughts.

Planning, the arrival of family who I had not seen in ages, arrangements, and sleep deprivation put a spell on all of us and we were programmed on auto-drive. The service was to be a celebration of Jett’s wonderful 7 years of life. And that it was. He was a beautiful boy so it was not to extremely challenging to put together a wonderful service to remember him. It was magnificent to see how a boy could leave an impression on hundreds of people in his 7 short years. After the service, everyone else returned to their homes and resumed their lives and daily routines. Except for us. In our routines, Jett would be there. But he isn’t. But, as strange as it is, life does go on. Only it goes on with a void. A void we will all have to life with for the rest of our lives.

I never understood how much a 7 year old could teach me. Not only when he was here, but also in his absence. I have plans for my life. I am 100% nerd. I love history, philosphy, art, theology, and literature. I want to learn. I want to teach. I have a gypsy soul and have been blessed to travel to many places. I plan to see everything and meet everyone. And I am excited. The next 3 years have many more homes in distant lands in store for me. Heck. Right now I am in Montana, tomorrow I go back to Washington, and in 2 days I am moving to the Florida Keys. I am hoping to live in Russia the following summer and only God knows where I’ll be the next couple of years after that. The possibilities are endless. But with my sight locked on the future, I sometimes ignore the present. My priorities have sometimes become jaded and unbalanced. To be honest, the highlights of my future do not largely consist of my family. Keep in mind that I am extremely close to my Washington family and my sisters. I would say that on my dad’s side, my family is the closest family I have ever met. Even though I am many miles apart from my sisters and their families, that does not stop us from keeping our close relationship intact. At every break I get, I always come back to Montana to spend time with all of them. But, it is true. You never know how good you have it until it is gone. Jett taught me that. Never take anything for granted and appreciate everything you have and everyone who is in your life. Relish in every hug and do not waste a second on anything that is unimportant. Somehow, my summer goals of reading through my books of Russian literature, obtaining a great tan, eating as much exotic food as I can consume, and snorkeling in the Gulf of Mexico have been diminished to simpler activities.

Suddenly, the trip that I have been looking forward to for months is no longer as enticing as it once was. 2,828 miles will be separating me from the land where I would rather be. But when is it time to resume to our lives? When will I stop thinking of him a dozen times a day? Each day is going to be different and I expect that we will all have our good days and bad days.

It is ok to miss him and keep our wonderful jokes and memories alive. The key is to stay positive. I know that he did not suffer. I know where he is. I know what happened, happened for a reason. And I know that through all of this, we will be okay. I take comfort in those things.

Together, we will all get through this.

From the Redwood Forest . . . .

Blasted Starbucks

The next morning I was all excited to go to Sweet Papaya. It is the best frozen yogurt ever. Basically, think of God hand-making frozen yogurt Himself, and then placing it in a bowl embellished with scrumptious fruits, candies, granola, with a small colorful spoon. Yes. That is what it tastes like. I had Googled it the night before and it reported that they opened at 8:30 am. Perfect! Yogurt=milk product=perfect breakfast! Well we woke up that morning (late), got ready and headed to Sweet Papaya. I was stoked. We arrived and IT WAS CLOSED. THE INTERNET LIED TO ME!! I was crushed. I had been looking forward to this for a good 34,200 seconds. I hated my life at that moment of time. Sweet Papaya just so happened to be connected to a Starbucks so I had to settle for a blended Frappachino. I then had to say goodbye to Courtney (tear) and returned to Leigh's car.


I must introduce you to Serena. She is our GPS. She is not the brightest tool in the box, but she gets the job done (for the most part). She does happen to have a British accent which gives her some cool points, but over all she is a ditz and does not know what she is talking about. We continuously have to tell her to shut up (which she doesn't) and she can never make up her mind.


We were about 60 miles north of Medford, Oregon when Serena led us wrong. She told us to get off the interstate (Even I can read a map and knew that this was not right) onto this rinkydink highway. It would NEVER end.

She led us out to the middle of nowhere. Then we rolled into this rinky dink town called Merlin. There was a restaurant named the G-Spot. Are you freaking kidding me? The G-Spot?! Seriously. What is this world coming to. We turned on to Robertson Ridge Road for a lifetime. There happened to be a church out in the middle of no where. I wonder what their attendance is . . . There was also a river called "Limpy Creek." Wow. The G-Spot, Limpy Creek? I did not think that I could take anymore. As we began to descend into a valley, there was a huge billboard that said "Discover the Illinois Valley" or something to that nature. Ummmmm...Last time I checked we were in Oregon. Ten minutes later I started laughing. Leigh just looked at me with a confused look on her face and I exclaimed, "WHERE IN THE HECK IS THE ILLINOIS VALLEY? ARE THEY PROMOTING PEOPLE TO GO ILLINOIS?" That kept me entertained for the next few miles. We turned onto a different Robertson Ridge Road and then there was a river, church, grocery store, and restaurant all named Roberton Ridge. Real original people. Real original. We stopped at some grocery store for some grub. My cart was filled with beef jerky, a sandwich, an apple, and a snapple. Classic. I got the glass bottle just so I could get the Snapple Fact. Apparently a strawberry is not a berry, but a banana is. ?. I think the Snapple Company is on crack. This store was filled with white trash hick people.  . . everywhere. Granted, I live in hick town. BUT not white trash hick. There IS a difference. The worker at the deli was making our sandwiches and a lady asked Leigh what type of cheese she wanted. Leigh responded "American." "NO! WE DON"T HAVE AMERICAN." giggles. "Oooooo," she responded and then picked a cheese they did carry.

Our destination was the Redwood National Park in Crescent City and we were finally able to turn onto Highway 101. There was a booth that we had to go through and we were really confused as to what we were doing. Were we already at the park? Turns out it was border patrol and the Ranger was very nice. The first thing he asked was where we were from in Washington and in the back of my mind I was thinking "How does he know that we are from Washington?" "Creeper!!!!" (After we continued our drive, it clicked. Our license plate said Washington genius. Jeez. Sometimes I kill myself.) We then told him our travel plans and he gave us a California map. (It took Leigh 20 miles to find San Francisco on it. Chuckles.) He then asked us if we were bringing any fruit or vegetables into California. We suddenly pulled out our apples and cucumbers and he told us those were fine. We were all set to go and returned to the highway. About 45 minutes later, Leigh screamed, "Oh no! We forgot to tell him about our carrots!!"


Leigh got a bag of Skittles and as she placed the last one into her mouth, it popped out and she was quite disappointed. A while later I found it on the ground and gave it to her and she threw it away!! She never even looked at it! What a waste of a perfectly good grape skittle. . . . . I would have eaten it.



Leigh also got string cheese at the white trash grocery store. She had forgotten about it and found it later. She then decided to stick it out the window to cool it down. Brilliant? I believe so.



My 1st sign picture. Yessss.

As we continued on, we finally crossed the border. I was driving and it was raining. I saw the "Welcome to California" sign and looked at Leigh and said, "OH CAN WE STOP PLEASE!?!" I had never taken a picture at a state sign and was quite excited. I then proceeded to slam on my brakes and pull over to the side. Enough to say that the people driving behind us basically hate me. Considering that there is only two of us, throughout our entire trip, we became geniuses at propping a camera up. As Leigh was setting the timer on her camera, a car stopped and we were hoping that they were going to offer to take our picture. They went into reverse and asked us if we knew where the Oregon Caves were and then drove off. JERKS! Come on people! It is raining and you see two girls trying to set their camera up and you do not even ask them if you would like to take their picture? What is wrong with the world?



Pure Brilliance
As we were trying to figure out how to take the picture, Leigh whips out an umbrella from her purse! "Perfect!" I said. She then informed me that everyone who lives in Seattle carries an umbrella. She then proceeded to open the umbrella in the car. Even more brilliant. Chuckles.




TO BE CONTINUED

Seattle Bound

Well my morning began with my Grams waking me up at 6:28 am. Sick. I despise mornings. I laid in bed for those few precious minutes and then forced myself to get up and take a shower. I despise mornings.

I then proceeded to get ready and after blow drying my hair, I heard my Grandma talking about the weather. In long sentences. I thought that she was talking to herself and got mildly worried/curious. When she went into her bedroom, I took a peek into the kitchen to see if anyone was there. Andrew! He made it. His eyes were starting to glaze over from the lack of sleep but he was there! Kudos to him. Looks like Grams won't be leaving him. (Which is kind of sad because that could have been a fabulous story.)

We then began our voyage. On time! That is a huge accomplishment for my family. On average, we are usually 20 to 60 minutes late. Not even ten minutes into the drive, Andrew started singing "John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt" over and over and over again. I, of course, started chiming in. Over and over and over again. My Aunty Deb started to give us dirty looks through the rear view mirror. Andrew then recalled the song, "This is the Song That Never Ends." This became our new tune and I started adding variations to it. Yes, we are 21 and 22 years old. At this point, Aunty Deb said that she was going to pull over the car and drop us off if we did not shut our traps. (In more or less words) Silence.

I took a quick nap and woke up to Andrew complaining about the sun. He thought that it was SO hot and was having a temper tantrum because he was "dehydrated and his body did not have a way to cool itself down." Oh-my-Lanta. You are complaining about the sun and that is the way you choose to describe it? I was chuckling and gave him a "are you kidding me right now?" look. Then we both started giggling.

It was not long after that when we began rolling into the big city of Seattle. I was not in my party attire so I had to change behind a dumpster. That was fun. I can check that off my list of things I've always wanted to do.     Not.     The party then began. We surprised Uncle which was fun. 5 cups of sorbet punch, 1 piece of cake, some laughs, some twizzlers I found in my purse, and countless crackers later, it was time to go. Leigh and I left that party to attend another one in Tacoma at the restaurant Indochine. I got Pho Thai. I've had better . . .

Finally, around 8:30 (late of course), we embarked on our voyage South on I-5 toward Salem. Leigh has about a bagillion old cd's that we pulled out and we then started to warm our vocal chords. Some Backstreet Boys, Nelly, Shania, and Celine accompanied us and we arrived in Salem around 12:30 (late of course). COURTNEY TIME! Dropped off Leigh at Courtney's because she was tired, picked up Courtney, and headed to campus to visit my old Roomie. We had a lot of catching up to do. Once I was caught up on all the good ol' Corban gossip, some giggles, chuckles, and snickers later, it was my bedtime and Courtney and I headed back to her townhouse. We then fell asleep to an episode of Friends. It was awesome.

Pre-Departure to San Francisco

Disclosure: The words you are reading are NOT in real time nor are they recommended to the readers.

Pre-Departure.

I am not sure if you all knew this, but my grandma is the best grandma. Ever. There is no competition. I will be traveling across the Cascades to the “other” side of the state with my lovely grandma, aunt, and cousin. Our ETD is 7:30 am. I was not about to get up at 5:30, pack, and leave Pullman at 7:00 am. I would rather wrestle a grizzly bear than do that, so I decided to occupy the spare bedroom at my grandma’s house. It needs slept in once every couple weeks and it was in dire need. The night was spent flipping through channels on the worthless television and doing cross word puzzles until midnight rolled around. It was awesome. My grandma was very proud that she knew the answer to a Big Bang Theory question. The answer was polyglot and she informed me that it indeed is a real word. She then asked me a question about the show Rosanne which I am disappointed to report, I did not know. Sam had stayed the night last week and the next morning, I had noticed that she had left the television on with Rosanne playing. So I then whipped out my phone and called her to see if she knew the answer. The question was “Rosanne has many of these.” Sam failed at life. Sigh. (Which I must point out is worse than me because she actually watches that show) BUT good ol’ grams figured it out. Debts was the answer.

My cousin Andrew has the reputation of being late. He also hates mornings almost more than he hates poor grammar. My grandma told me to text him and say that if he is not here at 7:30, we are leaving him. She specifically requested that I use her name within the message. That puts a certain sense of authority within the text message. What grandma says is law.

Bah ha ha ha ha.

And she meant it too.

We’ll see if I am able to recline my seat tomorrow morning because the lack of a body behind me.

For our journey to the west side, grandma made sandwiches, packed tons of snacks, AND made cookies. Yes.

I did remember to pack an essential item. The Sound of Music soundtrack.

Good food. Good music. Fabulous first leg of my road trip ahead.   

The time has come, my little friends, to talk of other things. Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings. And why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings. Calloo, Callay, come run away. With the cabbages and kings.

 

Anticipation. Longing. Thirst. Wonder. Excitement. Nervousness. Yearning

That is what I felt before my grand adventure. And now it has all past with the blink of my oval eye. I had been granted the privilege to experience new things, meet new people, launch new friendships, and see new things which some only read in books.

 After all of that, have I changed? Am I still the same girl who loves rootbeer, prefers plastic utensils to metal ones, obsessed with brushing her teeth, puts milk in her ice cream, and would rather live in a library (with a ginormous bathtub) than a castle? The answer is yes. She is still here. I can’t say I feel any different… tired maybe… nor do I feel any older or wiser. But I do know that my palate has absorbed the sweet flavors of gelato and my eyes have been opened. I have studied the world and how it turns from a historical and Biblical aspect; but sometimes, the mind can’t fully comprehend what it hasn’t experienced or seen. My 2,496 hours across the world revealed the world in which my eyes saw, my heart understood, and my mind comprehended. Through the many smiles and few tears, I don’t regret a single second.

The depravity of man and this world is clearer to me now. I have gained/re-gained a love for people, food, and cultures. I love all sorts of people and have always needed a variety in my life. My 149,760 seconds in Europe re-affirmed that. My food intake had been quite limited, but I am proud to say I have slightly broadened my horizons. I have taken on a greater appreciation for the different ways in which people live and why people do the things they do. I was shown a glimpse into the concept of “time” and the lack of it. Many questions were answered, but even more have risen.  

My mentality of the importance of friends and family strengthened during my stay. It seems to me that many are lacking in that department. That, within itself, saddens me. BUT, just because it seems to me it is lacking, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Which was encouraging. 

The Return

Our final, final day in Germany. Sad day in the neighborhood. Kelley was going to take us to the airport once again. Did we not do this before? Take 2.Woke up quite early to get ready and be packed with the goal of departing Kelley’s apartment at 7:00 a.m. Can we do it? Yes we can! Pft, mildly fail but not too horribly. Plus we had to make a pit stop at a bakery for some pastries, which of course was a necessity. We got caught in some mild traffic and we still had to stop at Katriona’s apartment to grab our luggage that we left before we went to Greece. We ascended the 130 stairs and descended the 130 with our ginormous bags that weighs about a bagillion pounds. Then we were off to the airport where Andrew and I still needed to re-pack our bags. I claimed that we were not late, we were right on time. We almost became late because we took a zillion years to sort everything and shove it all back into our luggage. I was sprawled out on the airport floor with my bag open and going through all my possessions. But that time was worth it (for me) cause after some re-packing, my bag was not over weight! Hooray! We once again said our goodbyes and started the first installment of security. Never in my life have I beeped going through those detector thing a majigs... But I did. Sigh. First time for everything I suppose. The lady had to extensively pat me down which I have to admit was mildly awkward. I was being frisked. But that was not as awkward as turning around to see this middle aged woman with her pants down. What in the world is this lady doing? But obviously nothing was wrong because no guards were tackling her or anything of that sort. Hmmm. Well at least I didn’t have to take my pants off….. I woulda mooned everyone! My feelings about leaving Germany were neutral. When in Greece and traveling back to Germany, I was definitely ready to return home. But during our last few days, I fell in love with it all over again. I was pondering these thoughts as we had to go through several other metal detectors and check points… I now realize why they want you go be there 3 hours prior to departure if you are going to the United States. I did find out why I beeped the first time. I had a bobbypin in my pocket. But when the first lady “hand metal detectored” me, she didn’t find it. The second time I went through the detectors, it did not beep, but everybody is hand mental detectored and she found the bobby pin… I believe there are some kinks in those systems. They probably just have them to irritate people. We made it to our gate just as they were boarding. Phew! Perfect timing.

We boarded the plane where I had an aisle seat and no one sitting to my left so I was able to stretch out which was fabulous. The best part about these international flights.. MOVIES! I first started Couple’s Retreat and Andrew started the Blind Side. Within 20 minutes of his movie, he tapped my shoulder and said he could have actually cried it he wanted to. I giggled. I finished my movie and started a second but then my tiredness hit me. I am not sure how long I slept but it must have been for quite some time. When I woke up, it hit me that we had really left Germany. I then started to watch the Blind Side. BAD IDEA. Man! That movie is really good but I too could have cried during the beginning! I was already semi-emotional because of the whole leaving Germany thing. I was mad because I was a bit emotional, which made me more emotional because deep down I’m a tad bit emotional when I’m angry. Emotional. Emotional. Emotional. I despise crying, and if I do… it makes me mad.. which makes me cry harder. Sigh. That movie was like adding gasoline to the fire. If I wanted to bawl in that airplane, I could have. But fortunately, I haven’t bawled for a very, very, very long time. Luckily, under normal circumstances, I can control these things so no mental breakdown occurred.. but it made me more tired. We began our descent which meant the movies turned off so I never got to finish my movie. It torked me off which just added to my brew of emotions. I tend to get very motion sickness and this was the worst episode I have ever had on an airplane. I began to feel the beads of sweat pouring and I became nauseous. I then had to start stripping my layers off. A few days before, I had watched the movie French Kiss. Meg Ryan is on a train and she ate a metric ton of cheese but she is lactose intolerant. Now, I realize that I am not lactose intolerant but the point is...we were both nauseous. In the movie, she starts screaming “MUCUS! MUCUS! It’s here. The mucus is coating the intestinal wall. Spasm! Spasm! Not the cow! I just ate that cow!” Off all the things, that is the only part of the movie I could think about. Which made ME think about MY mucus, which made me even more nauseous. Oohhhh boy. Andrew looked over and said, “Baby cuz are you ok?” That would be a negative. I leaned forward and rested my head on the hard screen. My eyes were squeezed shut to block out all the motion… I had to remind myself to breath. Alright its final, I really didn’t want to leave Germany. We landed in Philadelphia and did the whole customs thing. Yah! No longer a fugitive. All of those lines took 20 lifetimes and to top it off, our flight to Seattle was delayed cause they had to fix a seat, or that is what they claim they were doing. We were suppose to arrive in Seattle at 9:02 and Andrew and I still had to catch a flight from Seattle to Spokane. If I miss this flipping flight I am NOT going to be a happy camper. I do not know what is wrong with Philadelphia, but there airport is smoking hot! Holy cow! It’s the 21st century people.. AIR CONDITIONING! I was still nauseous, hot and irritated. After many moons of waiting we were finally able to board. This flight was PACKED. There was no more room so our carry-ons had to be stored with the other baggage. While sitting in my designated spot, I whipped out my German People and Place’s book and started the first part of my final. Productive with an attitude. The plane was late in boarding and it apparently was “rush hour” and we were 15th in line. Rush hour? This isn’t the city peoples, its an AIRPORT! I passed out and didn’t even stir during take off. I awoke, chatted with the gentlemen next to me, finished the first part of my final and was anxious to land in Washington. This flight was one of the longest flights of my life. I didn’t think we were ever going to land.

We finally did land, late as expected. We had 1 ½ hour to get our baggage, go check in, re-check in our baggage, go through security, and get to our plane. Now my mother told me to print my itinerary and I did like an obedient daughter. To bad I did not have the faintest idea as to where it was located. I tore apart my backpack and luggage with no luck. Oh man…. Nicole was NOT a happy camper. All I knew was that we were flying Delta. While I was riffling through my bag, I asked Andrew to go wait in line. As he was standing there, this lady asked him if she put him in that line and he said no. She said he would have to get out because her job is to place people in that line. She was quite nice about it but Andrew had an attitude and responded with a snide comment... which she didn't appreciate.  I just looked at him and almost said something.. but he eventually apologized to the lady and she attempted to help us. After a big, she said she was sorry but we had to get in the line she took us out of. Grrreat. We had to wait in line for what seemed like hours and the clock was ticking. During that wait in line Andrew kept complaining about the rule of 50 pounds in your baggage and I blew up. Yes, I did make a scene in an airport. And yes, people were staring. I was annoyed and wanted him to shut up. During our whole time in Europe we’ve had many minor hissy fits and one minor argument, but nothing ever huge. I had never complained about his crying and moaning about things, but that streak came to an end. Ooo this one was real. We were screaming at each other. I told Andrew to stop talking and he responded with he will say whatever he wanted to say. I then proceeded to tell him he can go talk over there (my finger was pointed to a place, far, far, away.) After more words were exchanged over the next few minutes, and as more people began to stare, Andrew basically told me to calm down and stop making a scene. I quietly told him that I was sorry (kind of), to please shut up, and I turned around with no intention of turning back. Silence.. thank the Lord! My nauseousness was coming back. I wanted to cry.. I did cry. Tears were streaming down my cheek. My face was red and I could feel my eyes beginning to puff. The lady (customer) in front of us at the counter heard the whole thing turned around and smiled at me, giving me a reassuring look. That was helpful.. I knew I was right.

After all that waiting it was finally our turn and we were told we had to go Alaskan Airlines. You’ve GOT to be kidding me. We then got there, and the attendant was like “You are going on the 11:00 p.m. flight!” Yes I know we are late, thank you captain obvious. She was not very nice. In the beginning she made it sound like she wasn’t going to let us board the plane. She decided to but said out baggage wouldn’t make it there until the following day. Fine with me, I just wanted to get to Spokane. Andrew’s bag was over weight by a couple pounds and he had an “episode”. Oh man that really torked her off. He made the argument that the same weight would be on the plane, whether or not he moved some stuff to his carry-on. She then told him that it the bag was over 50 pounds, 2 men would have to pick up the bag. He looked her in the eye, and picked up his bag with one hand. That was it, she started shaking her head at us, telling us she didn’t deserve this and she didn’t have to let us on the plane. For a second, I honestly thought she wasn’t going to let us get on. She just kept repeating that she didn't have to let us on while she fervently typed on her computer. I wanted to pretend like I didn’t know him but he was part of my ticket so I had to claim him. It's a good thing we had last names or else she probably would have thought we were married. He had to pay $50 extra dollars which made matters even worse. I was SOOO mad at him. I apologized for him and it turns out my bag was a couple of pounds over but she told ME she would let it slide. Haha. That is what you get for being NICE! I could have killed Andrew. I could feel the tears welling up but this time, I refused to let them loose. She told us we would have to run to catch the plane. Step 2: That went fairly quickly and then I sprinted to D7. I wasn’t going to wait for Andrew so I left him in my dust. Keep in mind that through security and looking for my itinerary, I tore apart all of my carry-ons and it was one big mess. The flight attendant wouldn’t let me board without fixing my stuff and combining it to "2 carry-ons". I tried to explain why it was a big mess and said it really did all fit but that was a no-go. That is where I lost it. I was out in the hall outside of the plane cramming my stuff back into my bag. I had some speck of thought that the plane would still leave me while I was standing right next to it. Andrew came and was nice enough to help and put some stuff in his laptop case. We don’t have to like each other but we still love each other. I then boarded the plane while giving a flight attendant a nasty look and showing him my TWO  Our seats had been next to each other but a couple wanted to sit by one another so Andrew sat in a different seat, which was probably good. Unfortunately, on the plane I lost my bearings and began to cry for the fourth time. Why? I do not know. I was on the plane heading to Spokane. All was well. My eyes turned to fountains. BLASTED! I freaking hate crying. Yes, hate is a strong word. Not only do I hate it, I entirely loathe it. The lady felt bad for taking his seat but I turned to her and said “Its ok, he is my cousin and I did NOT want to sit next to him.” Our 50 minute flight was a breeze compared to the rest of our trip and we landed in Spokane, Washington with my dad, mom, and aunty Deb outside the gate with their cameras. Once the hugs were exchanged Andrew gave me a hand-hug. All was well.

Fugitive Diaries: Day 12 & 13

I awoke in a room and not a train compartment. Bliss…Minus the fact that I woke up at 5:00 a.m. I was able to fall asleep for a short while longer but that didn’t last long. I knew Andrew wouldn’t even begin to stir until noon. Luckily, there were about a zillion movies which were alphabetically organized calling my name. It just so happens that I had previous knowledge of this little collection of movies and was quite excited to veg. All it took was tiptoeing through the kitchen to the door, opening the door, through the hall, another door, and BAM, there was the living room. Right when I walked through the arch way I looked to my left and the name Doris Day caught my attention. Old movies, splendid. Those movies consumed my morning. A picnic had been placed into the agenda for the evening which was accompanied by a bike ride. I had noticed that my glutemous maximus was a little tender.  The moment I sat down on the bike seat everything clicked. Blasted bikes from the previous day! Enough to say, the buns were soar. We went on a short ride to a location by a creek surrounded by trees and dirt roads. The one food product I had consumed the most was dill pickles. Not just any pickles, but Vlasic dill pickles. Yes, Sam. I thought of you the entire time.  We enjoyed our little picnic and packed up to return to the apartment. We were on bikes with baskets… which automatically triggers thoughts of the Sound of Music. A few bars were hummed and Andrew and I got to racing. Weird. We know. He was ahead of me and wouldn’t let me pass. Weird again. For a nano-second he wasn’t paying attention so I thought I would seize that opportunity. Unfortunately, he snapped back into reality and tried to cut me off. Keep in mind that we are on a dirt road. I had to swerve to the right so our tires wouldn’t collide. My tires skidded in the dirt and I ate it hard core in the field to the right of us. There was zero grace in this wreck. Zip. Zero. Nada. Ouch. The only positive thing that came out of this “accident” was that Andrew actually felt sorry and apologized. Whoa baby! An apology. Haha. Sucker. I probably should have been mad… but I wasn’t. Mildly torked…but not mad. At least my wounds drew blood. Battle wounds. I told him a little quote about payback in which he accepted. This payback has yet to be executed.. but the opportunity will present it self in the near future… We had extra bread in which we fed the mallards. Top favorite things to do: Feed Ducks. Why? I haven’t the faintest idea… I just enjoy it. When we got back, Kelley was a nurse and doctored my “owies.” I was a big girl and didn’t cry. I was rewarded with a gummy candy. Yes. I later did discover a bruise the size of Alabama on my thigh. Fantastic….

The next morning was basically a déjà vu of the previously morning…. Including Ms. Day and Mr. Hudson. Such a shame he is gay because he is SMOKIN. Quite unfortunate. I also observed dozens of photo albums within the book shelves. What is the purpose of photo albums if they are not looked at? Nothing. So I thought I would give them some attention. Chuckles. I love pictures.  Instead of a picnic, the consummation of ice cream and Italian food took place. Not any old Italian food, but the best calzone in the entire world! Before the calzone was ordered and digested, we played miniature golf. I have never, ever played mini-golf in my life. I normally despise participating in activities in which I am not good at. But even though I was quite horrible, it was actually fun. I did cheat once. Shhhh. The best part was watching Kelley beat Andrew. Muah ah ah ah ah. Later that night I had realized that I did not know anything about our flight from Seattle to Spokane since my mom had purchased the ticket. I gave her a little jingle and she sent me our itinerary. She demanded that I print it out and have it with me. I obeyed and did exactly what she told me to do. Gold star to me. Kelley was taking us to the airport the next day. No more trains, sweet. I had thought our flight left at 12:45. Wrong-o! Good thing I checked or else we really would have been super, super fugitives. That was our final night in Germany. On our journey from Greece to Germany, Drew and I were quite ready to return home to Whitman County life. But being back in Germany once again revived the feelings of not wanting to leave.