Two Years!!! It's like a marriage mission. How quickly went by gives me hope that the next two (while Mitch is gone) will go by just as quickly!
Yesterday we were at the Holdaway's for Sunday dinner and envelope stuffing (3 weeks until Haley & Chris tie the knot!), and we got talking about when The Beard and I were pre-dating.
Pre-dating: adj. stage of romantic interest, basically dating, often unofficial or secret.
The Beard was very secretive about me and I was in Wales at the time, so no one knew about me except a few of his closest friends. The night his family found out about me contains one of the best Ryan/Danica stories of all time. So the Beard went through his email and found the email he sent me that night to give me a good laugh - enjoy!
=====
Remember how I mentioned that the family found out you exist last
night? {We were talking on gchat when Haley came down to get him for dinner} I'll recap how this went down:
Haley: so who was that on the phone?
Ryan: don't know what you're talking about.
Haley: yes you do. That girl. Who was that girl.
Ryan: you're crazy. There was no girl. Please pass the lemonade.
......
Mom: so Ryan. Seriously. Lets talk about your dating life. Obviously
you don't have a girlfriend. Are you dating? Is there any girls in
your life? What's up?
Haley: well he was on the phone with a girl earlier and won't tell me
anything about it
Mom: who was it? Fess up!
Ryan: well... Actually... There kind of is someone. But she's in the
UK right now.
Mom: wait. Manchester, England?
Ryan: Near there. Yes.
Dad: oh my hell. We aren't going down THAT road again are we. {Reference to a crazy ex-girlfriend serving her mission in Manchester at the time}
Mom: she's not a Ginger is she?
Ryan: nope. She's a blonde.
Mom: she's not high maintenance is she?
Ryan: nope. She's cool. All my frens really like here
Haley: uh oh. CB?
Mom. What's CB?
Ryan: actually no. They've been cool
About it. And don't worry about it.
Mom. What's her name? Where does
She work? Does she want lots of grandbabies?
Ryan: this conversation is over.
So. Then tonight I was sitting in the living room facetiming with Tom
and the whole fam walked in. Tom and I had been talking about how Todd
has a girlfriend now and Tom said "you TOTALLY need to date Danica
this fall so we can go on triple dates broooo!" (we may or may not
have talked about you a few minutes earlier). Anywho at that point my
mom walks around the corner and says "Oh. Are we talking about Danica
Anne Budge? She went to Stonehenge. She has a blog. She went to the
pride and prejudice house and acted out the wedding scene!..."
Needless to say I hung up on Tom and. Freaked. Out.
Just so you know. My mom has now facebook stalked you extensively and
may or may not try to contact you. I apologize in advance.
PS. That profile pic of you at Stonehenge was a dead giveaway.
=========
Pretty good right? Hard to top that. That was 3 years ago. When I got home a few weeks later, we started officially dating. I finally met Kitty (my mother-in-law) and the whole gang in November. We were engaged in May, married in July and here we are 2 years later. Our marriage is continually improving and we still love sitting on the couch and watching Netflix for hours and making fun of people on the internet together.
This is a story about when I realized that the Beard was IT. I thought it apropos since it's Valentine's week and all. **Incidentally it is also the story of one of the worst dates I've ever been on.**
Background
The Beard and I met in August 2009. We started hanging out in October and kissed in December. It was still really casual and cautious, and in March we both decided independently to be gone for the summer - Ryan in Arizona and me in England. We hung out more and more in April, realizing we really liked each other in the face of departure.
A week after we first met - the night he got my digits. Epic.
The night before he left for Arizona, at the end of April, we had a really good talk about our expectations for the summer. We weren't even bf/gf at that point, so doing the long distance thing was clearly out of the question. The Beard was a bit of a commitment-phobe at the time and I had reservations about that. I also knew that he was going down there with his single dude posse, and that there would undoubtedly be just scores of hot Arizona girls to occupy their limited down time.
As for me, this was the first summer that I didn't take classes and two months before I left. I was incredibly excited about have a "real" summer and though I really liked Ryan, I wasn't going to waste my summer stressing about a boy that wasn't here.
So we decided to have an awesome summer, stay in touch if we wanted to, and see what September brought back, with equal parts hope and pessimism.
FHE/DATE MARKET
Ryan left on a Sunday. Monday I got up, went to work, and had a very regular day. No tears, no sadness. I was pretty sure Ryan was going to forget about me and I can't STAND feeling clingy. I just decided to get over it, expect nothing, have fun and not even think about him. There were new adventures ahead.
When I got home, my cute roommate Natalie was getting ready for FHE and invited me to come. I LOLed a little.
Fun Fact About Danica: HATES Singles Wards. Hates FHE. I was semi inactive while in college, because I hated going to church so bad. I went to every farewell in Springville/Mapleton, went to my home ward often, and left early from my singles ward all the time.
Still. I was committed to meeting new people and having a blast this summer, so I went. Big mistake. I don't remember what we did, but we sat down in the big circle of chairs and instantly some boys came over to talk to us. I looked up and was instantly drawn to one of the guys, who saw me looking and walked toward me, smiling.
"Wow." I thought. "They really were right about singles wards. I am having a Taylor Swift moment with a guy I've never met. All because of FHE."
He sits down next to me, we exchange names and small talk, and then the Bishop gets up to start the lesson/activity/whatever we were doing. We quiet down. I was trying to be as charming as possible, obviously.
My mind is going a mile a minute. "What was that connection? Did he feel it? Don't get ahead of yourself, Crazy, he could have a girlfriend. Could I even date someone in my ward? That's an awkward story to tell our kids we met in a singles ward." Don't act like you haven't done this embarrassing thought train route before.
But then I started to notice all my judgy little things. "That's weird... why would I be attracted to a guy in construction-style dirty boots? Wait a minute. Those are Bugle Boy jeans. His hat is camouflage. What. What. What."
Let me be clear. I have no issue with many of those observations. It's just not my type. I was starting to question my mental health. Then he started talking again.
"Do you like Mexican food? I need a date for this week and I'd sure like to get some Cafe Rio!"
How did I not notice his hick accent before? And did he really just ask me out within 5 minutes of knowing me? I even thought I was attracted to this guy. I'm going crazy. I must be.
I accepted, because I will always accept a first date. Always. Any single girl who doesn't is a B*TCH. Who do you think you are, turning down a guy who worked up the courage to compliment you with a date?
As we left FHE, I'm in this weird shock. What just happened? I thought I had a legitimate connection with this guy. Am I crazy? He's 0% my type. The more I talked to him, the less I liked him.
Plus he was clearly fresh off his mission - he brought it up like 100 times and asked what my favorite scripture was. All the more apparent during our date... dun-dun-dunnnnnnnnnnnn...
THE DATE
The next morning he sent me a very next follow-up text. With one too many winky-faces. How many you ask? One. I'm mean. I know he was just trying to be nice. But a winky face is always creepy.
Two days later, he would pick me up 20 minutes early for our date (WORSE THAN BEING LATE) and proceed to offer a prayer over our Cafe Rio meal in the middle of the restaurant. Yes. As always at Cafe Rio, there were no less than 10 people I knew there, watching. No that I'm ashamed of praying. I pray. Oh, do I pray. But am I wrong in thinking that maybe in the middle of Cafe Rio on a first date might not be the appropriate time/place for a verbal prayer? Regardless, I bowed my head and prayed with him.
The REALIZATION
After dinner, I politely declined his offer to watch a movie at his place. It seemed weird at 6 pm on a Wednesday night. Also he probably only watched the Living Scriptures, and man, sometimes Laman and Lemuel are just too much for me, you know?
I walked back into my apartment is disbelief. What a dismal date from such optimistic beginnings.
So what was going on? What did it mean?!!!!
At that precise moment of confusion, my other roommate, Becca, walks up. I told her I just went on a date with that kid from FHE.
"WHAT? That guy talking your ear off all night? He totally reminded me of Ryan! He looks so much like him!"
........
Well.
There it is.
He had Ryan's same color and shape of eyes. Brown hair. Big football guy build.
Bingo.
So I'm not gonna say that was the moment I gave up dating, because I went out with a handful of guys in those two months before England. But it was.
Cafe Rio prayer guy reminded me that there was no one quite like Ryan, and that I wanted to see where that went. I'm really glad the Beard felt the same way and spent his summer texting me between houses.
Freshman year I was just a little naive zoob. Moving out with one of my high school/ward besties Caroline was an exciting adventure filled with too much Diet Coke and way too many grocery shopping trips. Late nights were glamorous. A "real-life" job was my greatest pride. A Gold's Gym pass was obtained, although working out regularly doesn't counter the constant stream of snacks I pounded. I went to every dance party Facebook and my friends invited me to, because that's the trendy college life I'd seen on the internetz.
It wasn't all bad though. There were BYU football games with some of my best pre-mi friends. Plenty of studying and paper-writing. And obsessing over Mamma Mia!
Glenwood wasn't quite my style (too ward-centric and young) so Winter Semester I moved into Crestwood (private rooms and fewer zoobs). There I met one of my best college friends and the greatest roommate ever, Natalie.
I ruined my summer with History classes and Calculus. Still healing over a breakup and the less than ideal dating life I'd been experiencing at college, I pretty much spent the whole summer studying and watching the original Star Trek series on YouTube. Not my finest hour.
THE AWAKENING
That August changed everything. I decided to snap out of it. Katie and I finally bonded. I met Kami and Marit and started trying again. I cared again. I partied again. I dyed my hair dark a la Zooey Deschanel. The very first night I actually went out again, I met The Beard (at a SINGLE'S WARD ACTIVITY. Semi-embarrassed of this.) I still remember something waking up inside me when I talked with him. It's not something I can articulate. But it was good.
Marit and I hung out with the famous Trumans, met the BYU football team at the airport at midnight after their triumphant Oklahoma win, and started to go to more and more local music shows with my rapidly becoming bestie Tiffany. I bought new clothes, stopped eating crap and started yoga. I began the teaching program at BYU. I really DATED and made new friends in my ward, complex and classes. I was almost the "real" Danica here.
REMEMBERING
The Beard and I grew progressively closer, always circumventing eventual "official" status. Never seeing one another more than MAYBE twice a week. But come March, I was dominating my classes, especially with my Writing in Social Science class and remembering how much I loved English classes and writing. I had made so many friends, dated guys that weren't pre-mi's or complete weirdos, and was on the top of the totem pole at the library. People knew my name. I was finally wearing good clothes. Studying in a desk at the library instead of in my bed with microwave popcorn and The Office open in another window on my laptop. What a little adult I had become. I was more confident in myself and it was clear that The Beard was to play some role in my life. So I didn't run from it, even though we were both leaving for the summer.
We spent nearly every day together before he left, despite the good advice of my sweet and protective friends. We left with a "Have a great summer!" and the slightest potential hope that if we both came back and wanted to do it again, we would. And for real.
Once classes ended, I finally had a summer. No classes. Worked 4 days a week. Spent plenty of time in Mesquite, St. George and at the King Henry pool with Tiffany and Ali. I really grew close to my best friend Eliesa and looked forward to her newly single status and the promise of the greatest summer ever. I spent hours at the pool reading my huge tome of British history, preparing for Wales. I visited Chicago with my family for Brooke's senior trip.
I left Provo with a renewed sense of what this summer meant. I finally had a guy to care about, but I could function without him. I was desperately scared that liking him would ruin my summer without him, but instead I found it to be a pleasant hope to look forward to September. I could be funny. I could be cute. I could be crazy. I could enjoy time alone and time with my friends. I could drive with the windows down blaring Metric and The Eagles all summer long. As I finished a Cocoa Bean run with my office friends, I was just so grateful for my life and so happy to be living.
Wales was amazing. I won't re-hash that for you all. I showed up as the quiet, weird girl that no one knew, because I applied late and took the place of a dropout, not taking the prep class. I finished as everyone's friend, the group clown and "The Girl Who Doesn't Sleep." That's who I am. Deep down. The train had come full circle and I was ready to come home and be somebody. Just in time for my last year at BYU. :)
THE DRAMA OF ADULTHOOD
The Beard and I started dating pretty much immediately. I moved into the Dream Palace and vowed to remain social despite a boyfriend. We went to local shows, parties and threw awesome bonfires. I met Claybe, Shane, Myles, Jordan, Tanner, Myles, and a hundred other friends of Ryan's. I became FHE mom, and actually enjoyed it, despite my complaining. I fell in love with Just Dance. I watched Friday Night Lights, Entourage, Parks n Rec and Chapelle's Show with the Beard every night. We played counselor to our friends. We fought (a little).
Around Christmas I had a breakdown. I was facing my last semester of BYU, real world life, frustration with my family, boredom in my job, and uncertainty with The Beard. I lost it, you guys. My parents honestly looked terrified watching my sob on the floor like an 8 year old. I didn't even do that when I was an 8 year old. So you can only imagine. I considered running from Ryan. Postponing a semester. Quitting my job. Moving somewhere new. Doing anything else. During this stress I lost 20+ pounds, my hair fell out and my school work pretty much suffocated.
The only things I was sure about were that I didn't want to break up with The Beard; I liked teaching and being in classrooms, even if I hated my education classes; and that the coming 3 months would determine much of the rest of my life, so there was no way I could check out.
REALLY GROWING UP
I decided to stop being a baby and finish strong. I started out attending my final education and history classes regularly. I tried harder at work to be awesome, even though I thought I had reached that threshold. I took better care of "me" as Oprah would say, by trying to send The Beard home before 2 am, reading books I liked, doing homework before cramming stressed me out, etc.
I interviewed a a few schools in the area, and then was quickly offered my current internship position, which came as a merciful blessing in a time of craziness. I felt confident and excited to teach, although a little anxious.
The moment of truth came for The Beard and I, and it was just what we need to both decide we were "all in." After that point, talks about love and marriage and planning just spilled out. I was happier than ever and attending class probably less than ever. As the Dream Palace situation grew crazier, we spent more and more time with our families, and I absolutely fell in love with his. How fun is it to have 4 new sisters?!
I concluded my BYU career by unceremoniously trashing all my notebooks and selling all my textbooks. I moved back home, cut back on work hours and spent all my time wedding planning and hanging with The Beard and Holdaways.
Seven Peaks with Jeanette and Katie, Owls games, and one EFY session later, I was getting married to my best friend!
As far as BYU goes, I considered myself done. I still had to go to some stupid meetings and finish that b*&%# (sorry) of a Teacher Work Sample (a 40+ page portfolio showing that I know how to fake good teachings on paper), but I was pretty much done. Visiting campus made me so grateful for what I had and learned there, but so happy to be at home with my husband and working at an awesome school.
And here I am. Graduating today. LIKE A BOSS.
Thank you, BYU. Thank you apartments and roommates and singles wards. Thank you Study Abroad. Thank you LAO & HBLL. Thank you Mckay School of Education. Thank you to my family for always being there when I had to get away from Provo.
Thank you Beard. You met me at my lowest point and brought me to my highest, with patience all the while. I love you!
And thanks to you, my reader-friends. You endure my long-winded rants, and why? Because you know deep down I love you. I hope to have more and better posts since BYU, school and everything else is easing up on me. :)
I suppose graduation on Friday concludes my BYU career. It's weird. I wanted to go to BYU for forever. It was the only school I applied to. I was so proud and relieved when I got in. My grandpa was a professor there, and all of my Budge cousins went there. It was so prestigious and shiny and wonderful. Oh, the freshman innocence. I still love BYU. I still think it's the best. I bleed blue. But, like any other wonderful thing, there's more than meets the eye.
I spent a lot of time with my butt in an uncomfortable auditorium seat in the SWKT. (Ok. Much less time than I was SUPPOSED to.) I spent even more time in my beloved HBLL. But what I really learned didn't come out of overpriced textbooks or bloated professors.
Roommates suck.
African food smells TERRIBLE. (see above)
You can tell a lot about someone by where they live. Glenwood = carless zoob. Belmont = douche. Alpine Village = stupid, high-maintenance girl. These are generalizations, mind you.
Just because a boy is a Returned Missionary (RM) doesn't mean he is a good guy. This one was probably the most shocking to my naive freshman self. And the most disappointing.
The South End Market, A.K.A. South of the Border, is the closest place to campus to get my Diet Coke contraband.
It is possible to live off Diet Coke. (see above)
My fave study spot is Periodicals. Especially when it's rainy. My most EFFECTIVE study spot is level 1. No windows. No cell service. Only a handful of passersby to distract me. All Asians.
College courses are both easier and harder than I imagined. The actual coursework is not that bad, and the load is doable. What is more difficult is that the distractions grow exponentially. You have complete control of your schedule, laptop and Netflix account. Peril ensues. (see above)
Stay away from English majors. Kick it with the Dance teaching majors. They know what's up.
Sleep is a funny, undefinable thing. It swings from absolutely necessary (9 am on a Monday instead of Doctrine & Covenants) to merely optional (Every time The Beard called me to hang out and we ended up talking until the sun came up. No one tell our future kids that. They'll think it's ok for THEM to do that. And it's not.)
JDawgs is called of God.
Singles wards are nothing more than the Sacrament in a meat market. The girls that wear their PINK sweats and Uggs on campus all week suddenly look like Wet Seal models come Sunday. And that's not a compliment, ladies.
One day, you'll have more friends that didn't go to your high school than did. And it's kind of weird and great. They have no idea that I wore softball sweats my entire senior year and get tricked into thinking I'm qualified to run a fashion blog.
The Cocoa Bean is the greatest thing that's ever happened to Provo.
A Study Abroad can show you who you are and who you're meant to be. You'll never regret it.
Facebook doesn't make you any cooler than you actually are in real life. Common misconception.
College is amazing. There are parts I actually miss, like the spontaneity, the craziness and the potential for meeting tons and tons of incredible and terrible people. Still, I'm so happy I'm married and out of Provo and away from all of that. It's a chapter that served my book of life well, and I'll never regret it.
Three years ago, I was a newly-graduated 18 year old, full of hope and excitement for the opportunities lying ahead of me at BYU. I decided I wanted to be more of an adult. More independent. More grown up. I decided to move out and to start applying for part-time jobs, even at the behest of my parents. I was lucky enough to get 10 or 12 interviews for jobs on campus, but nothing seemed to pan out. I was a freshman. No one will hire a freshman for a demanding secretary or receptionist position, which was exactly what I wanted. (Knowing my addiction to The Office, you can hardly be surprised.)
I still remember my interview at the LAO. I remember standing in the atrium, waiting in the chairs by the front desk, the interview with Wendy & Dave, and walking to my car thinking "Well, there's goes another interview with people who just classify me as a naive freshman." I was sitting in my room days later when Wendy called to offer me the job. I was absolutely pumped. I knew my prayers were being answered and that this job was going to be very important to who I became at BYU. And I was right.
I began at the bottom of the totem pole. I worked with Cody & Dave, both married seniors who had worked in the LAO for quite a while. From them I learned how to be professional. How to relate to adults in a work environment. How to use Google Docs and program code for Wiki sites. The best tips and tricks for the Testing Center, bookstore, and campus in general. Because of them and this job, I never felt like a true freshman. Because of them I was ahead of the campus curve. Thanks guys.
After Cody and Dave left the following April, I became #1. It is a coveted position. The AUL's (Assistant University Librarians, the administrators in my office) began to trust me. Librarians and full-time employees began to know my name. I really started to get a hang of it. The LAO became my home away from home, and I sold my soul to it. I would miss class to help with lunches and projects. I'd stay late for conferences. I would often get in trouble for working over 20 hours a week, but everyone in my office knew I was a slave and loved it. I knew I was a goner when my friends and family would ask how the library was going every time they'd see me. Embarrassing.
Last summer when I left for Wales, I was so grateful the LAO held my job for me. It might have been a deal breaker for my study abroad if they hadn't. Being gone for 6 weeks made me realize how much my life revolved around my job. All my study abroad friends new about my job and how much I loved the library. I missed the inside jokes and even wondered about how daily tasks and small projects were going back at the office. I found myself snapping hundreds of pictures of libraries and sending them to the office.
In all honesty, the best part of my time here at the LAO has been the friendships. I have formed some of the greatest friendships of my life here in this office. People I would never have been friends with otherwise. People that have impacted my life immeasurably. People I love.
Katie. [We bonded over Michael Scott, Cocoa Bean and Las Vegas.]
Kami. [A co-secretary, now on a mission, that became a much-needed friend and fellow Harry Potter enthusiast for Summer and Fall 2009.]
Aremy. [An LAO Secretary legend. She is the cutest mother and wife, and I always looked up to her.]
Paul. [My baseball buddy back in the business office, and a Royals fan. Ouch.]
Eliesa.[BFF, and the best little designer I know. Congrats E & B! Love you!]
Tiffany. [One of my best friends that taught me it's ok to be a little touchy-feely. :)]
Chris. [Started as a shy little project for me, and became one of my best friends and Zombie partner in crime.]
Laura. [The only person who understands my Star Trek jokes.]
Jeanette. [Mini-Me and the funniest freshman I know. Look out for this girl in the Advertising program soon. She'll change the world.]
Cassandra. [Actually not an employee of the LAO, but we'll claim her. She's our newest little buddy and we just love her.]
I'm actually falling apart emotionally as I type this and realize just how special the camaraderie in this office is. It's even better than the great relationships I built with teams I played on. And I don't know how it happened. I'm just eternally grateful that it did. These people have changed my life and made me better, and they aren't just work friendships. We will be friends forever. I know it. Even though I'm leaving, I can't wait to come visit Katie's baby, have dinner parties with E&B, congratulate Chris on his engagement and wedding, watch Jeanette take the Advertising world by storm, and hear about all the guys that come into our office just to ask Laura out.
I became who I am because of the Library Administrative Office. The technical skills I've learned have been absolutely crucial to my academic career. The social and professional skills I've learned, I'll carry with me in my personal life and in the classroom for years to come. But the memories, the most important and most valuable, I'll have forever. Cocoa Bean. Binder assembly lines. Office parties. Lemonade and Christmas punch slushies. Office supply shows. Arrested Development quoting. Treat Monday/Tuesday. Hating on Grad Studies and random librarians. Inside jokes. And especially just the daily office time, catching up and hanging out together. I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Thank you LAO. Thank you HBLL. Thank you Wendy. Thank you friends. Thank you Heavenly Father for providing me this job, this opportunity and these wonderful people to color my life.
Saturday August 14 was Travel Day! I couldn't believe it. Later that night (although really it would be like 24 hours later) I'd be breathing Utah air and hugging my family. Now, ok. Bear with me. This day was a WHIRLWIND, obviously. I hadn't slept, I was traveling, which is always taxing, and I was crazy excited. Unfortunately, because of all this, I did not write anything down for this day. Even if I did it would probably be incoherent. So I'll try to remember it as best I can. {Number of times Diet Coke is mentioned in this post = 11}
First, to help you understand the relative times and length of my trip, a chart:
The biggest thing I want you to take away from this chart is that I was traveling for over 24 hours. Also, keep in mind that I didn't sleep the night before. And wait. I landed in SLC at 11:30 and didn't get to bed until 8 am? That must be a mistake, right? Well, stay tuned for the thrilling explanation.
So packed and prepared, I jumped into the van with Anna, Anders, Talia and Jessica (other Jessica). Everyone kept asking me if I was tired or felt ok for staying up all night, but honestly I felt fine (I HAD chugged like 3 of my last Diet Cokes. I had to get rid of them somehow). I bid a quick farewell to everyone and clambered out of the van and into the dreary, sketchy bus station covered terminals. It was rainy, slightly cold and the gross, irregular yellow lighting of the terminals combined with my sudden realization that
1. My luggage might be too heavy for the bus requirements 2. All I had for my bus ticket was a printout of payment 3. The monitors did not list a bus leaving for London Heathrow at 7:30 4. Since I threw away my debit card in Preston on accident, all I had was the 30ish pounds and $50 cash on my person, and didn't know if I could buy another bus ticket or taxi for that amount if my bus pass didn't work. 5. Just a general realization of all the things that potentially COULD go wrong on this long and complicated journey home.
Jessica and Talia were supposed to take a bus, but were worried that it wasn't coming or that they hadn't bought the right tickets, so they made the executive decision to run over to the train station and get on the next train to London. Their flight was much earlier than mine and the train only takes about 1.5-2 hours, compared to the 3 hour bus ride. Once they left, around 7:00, I was all alone. Sitting there. Cold and damp. Trying to contain my anxiety. I ended up throwing away some t-shirts, my towel, and my trusty charcoal peacoat (it was falling apart anyways) in an attempt to lighten up my luggage.
The bus came a little late, and wasn't the exact bus number on my ticket. The driver said the schedules change all the time and he had no problem letting me on. Although he did laugh at the weight of my bag and asked me if there was a dead body in it. I climbed on a bus, got a window seat and pulled out a book, but I just wanted to get a nice last look at the UK while I could. I streamed "First Train Home" by Imogen Heap (and other appropriate songs) over and over as I said goodbye to Cardiff, Wales and garbage lining the streets. Excitement filled me, but then I started to crash and wanted to save my food and Diet Coke for when we were closer to London. I'd need to be alert when I got off the bus and had to negotiate multiple terminals. So I set my alarm to wake me up around 10:15 (my mom had been stressing that I would be too tired and sleep through my flight/stops/arrivals), and fell into a superficial, unsatisfying doze. I hate those big buses. They are cold, uncomfortable and cramped. Even for a little short girl like me. Pulling into Heathrow was fantastic. I had consumed my chips and apple, downed my Diet Coke, and was ready to rock.
I grabbed my luggage, hopped on the underground tram, and stepped out at the appropriate terminal. I was able to quickly check in and deposit my luggage, which was a HUGE relief. My backpack was also full to bursting, and lugging them both around was making my back tighter than a drum. Around 11-11:30, I was through security, located my terminal and sat down with every intention of working on my paper. Luckily, it was like 4 in the morning at home, so no one was online to tempt me with conversation. The people-watching was entertaining enough, though. Finally around 1 pm I decided I wanted to eat, stock up snacks and blow the rest of my soon-to-be-useless pounds. I grabbed lunch, bought gum, Toblerone, water and another Diet Coke to drink when I was about to get off my flight, and headed back to my terminal to await boarding call.
I boarded the plane around 1:45 and popped several Dramamine as the plane was taking off. Goodbye, UK! I'll miss you. And I was out. OUT OUT. Every couple of hours I would wake up for just long enough to look out the window at the ocean, check the time on my seat monitor, maybe sip some water and pass back out again. I was miraculously awake when they came around to serve us dinner. I wasn't super hungry and that food is generally super gross, so I think I just stuck to the rice, cookies and jello. The cute little Indian man next to me offered me his jello before falling back into motionless, soundless sleep again. Best row-mate ever. Before I knew it, I was looking out the window at land. And not just any land. The US of A! I had tears welling up in my eyes. My heart was swelling in my chest. I was really home.
I downed their last round of complimentary Diet Coke and my secret stash of Diet Coke and Toblerone in the last 30 minutes of the flight. By this point I couldn't sit still. And I know what you're thinking, but no, it wasn't because of the chocolate and Diet Coke. Maybe a little. But mostly I was just DYING to use my cell phone. I could TEXT! I could make phone calls! Wow. It had been forever. I hadn't really minded it at all, it had even been nice, in fact. But now I was ready. As the plane touched down and stood idle waiting for an opening, I giggled like a child at the little startup tone of my phone. I sent my first text back in the US:
"Tyrannosaurus Rex!"
You know who you are.
Then the texts to everyone else - "Guess who's back in the US?!" to all my friends and coworkers and "Landed safe!" to my family. When I finally stood and shuffled off the plane, I was herded directly into Customs, which went surprisingly fast. A big, jolly American guy processed me, and asked me about my final destination and teased me while I put away my paperwork. "Well, good luck. And welcome back to the USA!" A high five, and then I emerged in the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport.
American voices on the intercom. My phone buzzing cheerily in my pocket. And then... a vending machine. I happened to glance in it as I walked through the last terminal and what did I see?
Tears welled up in my eyes again. Over CHEEZ-ITS for crying out loud. I was a wreck, clearly. But you don't understand.... one thing (among other things like real Diet Coke, Reese's and Wendy's) they do not have in the UK that I had been DYING for was good cheese crackers. Like Cheez-its. This was America.
The Minneapolis-St. Paul airport is ENORMOUS. Seriously. It's huge. I can't even imagine the Mall of America. It took me almost 25 minutes just to walk to my terminal to make sure I could find it. From there, I called my parents, called my grandmas and updated everyone on my situation. Those were some great conversations. I was loving seeing kids in pro sports jerseys, people talking about Glee, and even a man wearing a Dunder Mifflin t-shirt. It was like Christmas. Everywhere I turned, something thoroughly American! Around 7 or so, I realized I was starving, having eaten nothing but snacks and Diet Coke since London. I decided I was going to find a nice sit down restaurant and eat me some American food and have Diet Cokes delivered to my table, Ed Budge-style. I had seen a Chili's and thought that would be a good safety, but started looking for other options.
And suddenly, there it was. A Cafe Rio-esque MEXICAN RESTAURANT. I practically sprinted in. Did I mention Mexican food is my favorite? Did you know there are literally NO Mexican Restaurants in the UK? The allure of chips and salsa was intoxicating. I sat down, got a REAL Diet Coke (oh how I've missed you), started to tuck into my delicious burrito, but then I looked up. What did I see? What could possibly stop me from devouring my precious Mexican food like a barbarian?
Baseball.
There was a TV in the restaurant. On that TV was a baseball game. It was just a Twins game, but still. America's pastime. Not cricket. Not golf. Not soccer. BASEBALL. At this point I really started to cry. It was just too much. So here I was, sitting in this airport restaurant by myself, a mouth full of steaming delicious rice, beans and pico, staring up at a baseball game, with tears escaping from my tired eyes.
GOD BLESS AMERICA.
When I pulled myself together, eliminated my burrito, cashed a few more Diet Cokes and watched the last couple innings of the game, I headed all the way back to my terminal. I tried to work on my paper and got some done, but ultimately just wanted to text and talk. I boarded my plane around 9 and soon we were en route to Salt Lake City! The flight was a little under 3 hours long, and while I slept for a good hour at the start, I spent the remainder staring out the window, listening to my ipod, and day dreaming (well, night-flight dreaming) about seeing my parents and siblings, the boy, my friends, my office, grandmas, everyone! I fantasized about my comfy, dark bedroom at home and how I would sleep for an entire 24 hours once I got home. After I took a luxurious shower, of course. I finished touching up my makeup as we flew in sight of Salt Lake City. I know this will sound ridiculous, but as I saw the city lights my heart started to pound, and once I caught view of the Salt Lake Temple, I was flooded with the Spirit. Again, my eyes welled up with tears and I had to fix my eyeliner. Worth it.
I stood in line to get out of the plane, bouncing on the balls of my feet. The guy riding next to me laughed and said "Don't worry. The airport isn't going anywhere." Not funny, random guy. You don't know that. Seeing the familiar terminals of the Salt Lake Airport was awesome. I quickly swerved in and out of passengers to make it to the open floor, and then jogged to the escalator to baggage claim. As I descended below the overhanging beams, I caught sight of my mom and dad, waiting for me. Biggest smile ever. I ran over to them, dropped my backpack and jumped up into my dad's arms. I'm such a daddy's girl. Me and my mom were emotional and excited. I love them so much. My dad grabbed my bad and we headed out to the car. Mitch ran out and hugged me as we walked up and I was having such a hard time holding the tears back from my laughter. I jumped in the car to find my adorable little Blade! I think I missed him even more than my friends and family because I couldn't talk to him.
It was so bizarre to sit in a nice, leather-interior Audi that didn't smell of wetness and feet. The backseat was this enormous expanse of open space, and WE WERE DRIVING ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD! There were no roundabouts, no fields filled with sheep. Just billboard after billboard, and exit after exit populated by Wendy's and Texacos. I told them funny stories and answered their questions, meanwhile texting all my friends. My now-boyfriend Ryan and a few of our friends were hanging out and wanted me to come say hi. It was midnight, I was with my parents, exhausted, and hadn't been home in 6 weeks. So naturally I decide that's a good idea. Clearly I like this kid. My parents drop me off in Orem, bewildered, no doubt. We pull up next to my friends, I say thanks and goodbye to my family, and jump out, excited to see the guy in the white v-neck walking towards me with a big smile on his face. He picked me up with a huge hug and a "Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!! I missed you." I'm pretty sure my heart melted. Enough of that embarrassing gushiness.
I said hi to our other friends and we all hung out and talked for a while. Finally, they decided to go up to Kader's "Le Cabin" and watch a movie. It was close to 1 am at this point, so I thought I should go home. Turns out, Ryan's car was parked at someone's house, and it would be a huge pain to have to go get it. Plus I was having a great time. I shot my parents a text to say that I'd just come home in the morning and to go ahead and go to bed, and we piled into Kader's car and headed to Le Cabin. We watched Smokey and the Bandit, which was awesome, and hung out until about 8 am when I figured it was safe to head out to Mapleton without waking anybody up.
I got home, went inside and went straight down into my room. As I opened the door and flipped on the light, the best surprise ever greeted me. A HUGE new bed and cute bedding.
Well, now I feel completely worthless.
My parents had bought a nice new bed to suprise me and welcome me home with. And I didn't even come home until 8 in the morning! Worst daughter ever. I ran upstairs and thanked them, apologizing for not coming home with them. They rolled their eyes and laughed. They're used to me being inconsiderate and making decisions under the influence of fatigue, apparently.
And then. THEN, I went to bed. That bed was a celestial cloud of dreaming glory. I slept till 4 or 5. I can't remember. But it was delightful.
