seven years ago today

august 29, 2001... "the whole day was kind of a countdown. eight hours left. four hours left. an hour left. it sucked that way. we went to the mall to pick up some things with sherrie [burton's mom] and the three of us ate lunch in the food court. sherrie talked about how poor they were when she and clark were first married. it was fun to listen to her talk.

dinner was tough, 'cause we ate kind of late, so by the time we were done it was almost time for me to go. we had decided that i should leave before he got set apart, so i arranged for emily to come pick me up. both burton and i were getting pretty glassy-eyed sitting at the table. finally, we just went downstairs and cried. we stood in his room, hugging and sobbing. we sat down and just talked and cried. it was awful, but beautiful.

we eventually went upstairs and sat outside on the bench in the front yard. we just held hands and talked through tears. then emily's car pulled up. my heart just beat a million miles a minute. we went inside and i gathered my things and then we hugged. we hugged for so long. burton sobbed. his parents, whom i just hugged seconds earlier were both standing there watching - they were both pretty teary-eyed too. after one of the longest good-bye hugs i think i've ever had, corinne and clark came up and i hugged them and then gave burton one last hug and kiss and walked out the door. i could hardly bear to look at burton for fear my heart would rip out of my chest. he was still sobbing. i got in the car and completely lost it. as we drove out of the driveway, i looked back and could see through the front doorway window. burton was hugging his mom, and then turned to his dad and was just hunched over his shoulder crying. it was so hard to leave him."

what a day!! so many unknowns. so many emotions. i recall being SO excited for burton to serve a mission, but it didn't really make the day any less difficult. we said our good-bye's and hoped for the best. we were truly best friends who happened upon each other under unlikely circumstances. we hadn't spent more than a week apart in over 6 months, and now we were looking at two whole years. we wrote every week. he put his whole heart and soul into serving a mission, and i did as he asked and tried not to simply wait around. seven years later, it's quite amazing to look back and see how often the Lord whispered in my ear that burton was the one for me. that somehow, it would all work out. that no matter how the story ended, He was aware of us and we would be alright. and so today, i just thought i'd share a little bit of the story... and acknowledge how grateful i am for this man in my life who laughs with me, inspires me, works hard with me, talks with me, cries with me (though, it's not easy to get this man to cry), and is in this for the long-haul with me.

happy 7 years since you entered the MTC burton! :) thanks for coming back and marrying me. i love you much.

total intimidation

so... i've been asked to sub for a primary class this sunday. they're 10. and for some reason, this fact kind of terrifies me. 10?! when was the last time i even spoke to a 10 year old? what do 10 year olds look like? hahaha. no seriously. how is it possible that i really have this huge social gap in my life? give me a bunch of toddlers. great. give me a bunch of old ladies. i can teach them... probably even make them laugh a bit. give me anyone over the age of 19 or under the age of 4, and i'm in my element. but 10? what do 10 year olds like? i think i still played with barbie's at 10... i'm pretty sure i was at the hitting boys because i liked them phase. what's funny to a 10 year old? oh! it just struck me that they're in 5th grade. i've seen "are you smarter than a 5th grader"... but are 10 year olds really like that? i suddenly just had flashbacks of grade 5... 10 year olds are mean. are they still mean? or was that just an 80s thing?

ok... help me. somebody has to know something about 10 year olds. do they bite? :)

i heart crazy people

well... it's official. i had my first real crazy person encounter worthy of a blog post since moving to the east coast. or maybe it's just the first time i've been unable to avoid the craziness, and thus could do nothing more than stare and take notes. 'cause let's be honest, when you blog... sometimes it's critical to take a few notes about the crazy people so you don't forget the really good details. :)

so, just to recap the insanity of my day up to that point. i had woken up at 4:30 AM, got myself showered and dressed, left for the airport at 5:30 AM, left on the plane at 6:30 AM, arrived in newark, nj at 8:12 AM, caught a taxi that got me to montclair, nj at 9:00 AM, met with a client all day, took a break to bring in some indian cuisine, met some more, played a computer game we built for the client with the client, got sufficiently schooled by said client on said computer game, left for the airport again at 7:30 PM, boarded the plane at 9:30 PM (i'm feeling exhausted just recapping this day)... and this is where the crazy lady enters.

it was one of those little planes. the kind with two seats on one side, and a single seat on the other. i took my place in seat 4A, with two empty seats next to me across the aisle. everyone had boarded, but this one little old hispanic woman. she had pin straight, stringy bright-white hair, pulled back in a ponytail with a little blue scrunchy. she was carrying a purse the size of a small suitcase in one hand and a grease soaked chili's to-go bag in the other as she boarded the plane, and was mumbling something in spanish as she threw herself down into a seat across the aisle from me. the male flight attendant had tried to make this slightly frazzled woman feel a little more comfortable by throwing out a few spanish phrases as she walked passed him and on to the plane, but it was clear something was bothering her. all of a sudden she turned to me and said something that i could only imagine was "do you speak spanish?" and i responded "no, i'm sorry." she suddenly jumps up out of her seat, mumbling much louder and i definitely heard her say "they think i'm crazy!" (why she knew this phrase in english and nothing else, i'm not quite sure) and frantically barrels down the aisle towards the back of the plane asking if anyone spoke spanish. apparently no one did. she runs back up to the front of the plane where the flight attendant had just closed the door and sent the walkway thing (that's a technical term) away, and she starts yelling in spanish about something that seemed to have to do with her luggage that had been checked at the gate. the flight attendant wasn't as cool with his fancy spanish phrases this time, so he calls someone to come to the plane. they bring the walkway thing back, open the plane door again, and an airport employee who speaks spanish comes on to the plane. they have a very loud discussion in spanish right next to me, and the crazy lady calms down (sorta). the flight attendant is clearly getting paranoid about having this crazy woman on the plane, and tells the airport employee to pass along the following information VERY CLEARLY: "once we are in the air, under NO circumstances can she get out of her seat, as there is a federal regulation prohibiting anyone from moving about the cabin within 30 minutes of our nations capital... if she does, we will divert the plane and she will be arrested on the spot when we touch down." she relays the information, the crazy lady shakes her hands and laughs "oh no no no!" and nods in agreement that she understands. yes. i have total confidence that this crazy woman understands.

everyone takes their seat (oh wait... just the crazy woman. the rest of us had been patiently waiting with our seatbelts securely fastened for some time now), the door closes, and the plane taxis on to the runway where we wait for an hour to take off. i love newark. blah.

so while the crazy woman sits, sprawled between the two seats, her 72-hour survival kit (aka purse) on one side and the random chili's bag on the other, i watch her. i can't help myself. she is mesmerizing. her tiny little legs dangling above the floor. her dark brown plastic flip flops, that clearly met their match with a bedazzler at some point, just hanging on her big toes. she is fussing with her 3 boarding passes. she takes them out, flips through them. examines them. flips through them again. puts them away. a few minutes pass, and she goes through it all over again. i'm not sure if she was having trouble remembering where she was. or where she was going. or what planet she had landed on. but she was definitely obsessive about the boarding passes. at one point, the flight attendant walked passed and noticed she didn't have her seatbelt on, and commented to her that she needed to wear it. she proceeded to amaze me. who knew, people!? for YEARS i have made fun of the flight attendants for showing all of us "idiots" how to use a seatbelt. i have been known to say on more than one occasion to the person sitting next to me (which is usually burton)... "seriously... who doesn't know how to put on a seatbelt... and if they don't, how in the world do they have money for a plane ticket?" well folks... we had a winner. she took the same two ends of different seat belts and like a square peg and a round hole, tried to make them fit together. at this exact moment, i smiled and suddenly loved her. throughout the duration of the 32 minute flight, she shifted between seat 4B and 4C a few times, but nothing worthy of diverting the plane. she continued to check and recheck her boarding passes. and she continued to talk to herself in spanish... i'm sure mumbling about the crazy white girl to her left who was trying to sleep with her legs curled up on the arm rest in front of her and scribbling notes in the dark every few minutes.

p.s. if you're ever flying into DC, fly in at night and fly in to reagan national, and sit on the left side of the plane. holy beautiful view, batman!