I was laying in bed last night and realized I forgot to blog. Jason even reminded me like 3 times. I don't know if I'm cut out for all this responsibility. We'll see. I think it's because when G and I went to the beach yesterday we got soaked in an afternoon rainstorm. After that I was flustered. And I had to address all of the wedding thank you notes, so my hand was sore like a little boy playing video games all day. But no more excuses (note to reader, I'm probably lying about that), I will man up and shoulder this responsibility. The people need me. And by people I mean Crystal. She needs entertaining during her lunch break. So entertain I shall.
So last time I said I would start at the beginning and tell how this whole Hawaiian adventure began. Well first it starts with Jason, my husband. (I had to say that b/c his feelings were hurt that I didn't even mention him in the last post. Oops.) Last November Jason and I had to choose our new duty station for the next three years. Our options were Hawaii, Key West and San Diego. I really lobbied for San Diego. Hello! Temps in the 70s all year long. I don't think it gets any better than that. But Jason is against all that is California. Something about liberal fascist and all that. Whatev. And I put the kibosh on Key West b/c they practically evacuate every other day during hurricane season. NO THANK YOU! If you know me even a little then you know I am petrified of all natural disasters, particularly tornadoes and hurricanes. So again, Key West was a no from the start. So of course that left Hawaii. I'm pretty sure Jason planned it that way. He would have done anything to get back here. Probably even paid me. I should have held out longer. Dang it. So, we decided on Hawaii and started going from there.
Skip through all the boring part, wedding planning and etc. We got married in March, went on the honeymoon, got back on a Saturday and Jason left that Sunday for work. He was gone for 2 weeks and then when he got back it was time to pack all of our worldly possessions and send them on their way. Across an ocean. Where they could sink into the deep dark blue. Dramatic maybe. But it happens! So I made sure to keep all my favorite clothes, shoes and jewelry and my great grandmother's pearl necklace with me. Not to mention all the stuff the movers wouldn't pack. Like all of my perfume. Ugh. I was so mad. This resulted in me having 3 huge bags to lug to Hawaii myself. And I still have stuff in Texas for my mom to ship to me. Probably, I have too much stuff. Oh well.
So skip ahead some more, Jason leaves for Hawaii and I quit my job a month early since I now didn't have any furniture, namely a bed, and went on a tour of the Great State of Texas. I went to Houston, Dallas, Midland, then back to Dallas to say "bye" to all my loved ones. My tour ended at Jenny's house in Fort Worth. So G is suppose to leave the day before me on a Continental flight and I was leaving the next day on an American flight. Well the night before G's flight I realized I sent his original health certificate to Hawaii for his check in there. But I realized I needed it for his check in at the Continental counter. So of course I start freaking out. I called Jason and got huffy with him (b/c of course it was his fault) and had him email me a copy. I crossed my fingers that the Continental people wouldn't make an issue out of it not being an original. So the next morning we awake before God at 4:3o in the morning, b/c G has to arrive 90 minutes before his 7 am flight. Mom, G and me trek it to the nearest Kinko's so I can print a copy of the health certificate, then we go to the airport where we proceed to get lost and drive around like Japanese tourist. They really hide the Cargo building well. Probably they don't really want your animal so they hope you'll drive in circles and just give up. So we finally find it, get G all checked in while he stares at me through the little wire door of his crate. And I lost it. I mean I was like a little kid when I was saying bye to him. The lady next to me couldn't figure out what the hell was wrong with me. She was a breeder sending off a dog and she thought I was too. I wanted to yell at her "Don't judge me. That's my baby!" But I didn't. I just solemnly walked back to my mom's car while she made fun of me inside her head. So of course the only thing that could make me feel better was IHOP french toast. So off we went. No joke, we pulled into the parking lot 25 minutes later and I got a call from Continental that G's flight was delayed and he wouldn't make his connection in Houston. He could either fly to Houston and spend the night (for $100!) or fly to NEWARK and then to Hawaii. Um Hello! Are you NUTS?! I was not going to put my little traumatized baby on a flight for eleventy billion hours. Sooo, mom and I trek it back to the airport, pickup G and head back to Jenny's. Without any french toast. It was a bad morning.
The next day we do it all again. Wake at 4:30 and head to the airport. Except this time Jenny is driving me on account that my mom was boot scootin' back to Midland that day and that is a loooonnnggg boooorrrriiinng drive. So Jenny to the rescue. Like Super Woman. So we get to the airport, this time we don't get lost on account of the fact that I'm a pro at this now. We take G in, I drop him off and run back to the car. I don't want to look at him or I will lose it again. And Jenny wouldn't just make fun of me in her head. She would do it out loud. So we go home, pick up mom and head out for some french toast. I've totally earned it by now. Go home, take a nap and then it's MY turn to get on a flight. Finally. I hadn't seen Jason in 6 weeks. Plus I wanted to get to Hawaii to make sure G had made it OK. I probably wanted to do that more than see Jase. But Jason was a close second! The flight was uneventful until movie time. They showed the movie "Marly and Me", you know, the one where the DOG DIES! Sheesh. They shouldn't be allowed to show movies like that on a long flight. People are bored so of course they are going to watch whatever is on and then WHAM they get hit with a dead dog. I was already emotionally spent over dropping G off so when I was watching this moving I was literally sobbing. I make a quick look at the guy next to me and he was asleep, thank God. So he didn't see me making an idiot out of myself. But then I turned around to see if I could get some tissues and the guy 2 rows back from me was laughing at me. Dang it. Busted. I felt like yelling "I put my baby on a plane today!" But probably he wouldn't know what I was talking about and then he would really think I was crazy. So instead I wipe my face off and try some reading. I make it through the rest of the flight without yelling or drop kicking anyone and finally land in Hawaii. I walk as fast as my short legs would take me to the baggage claim and there was my husband with G in his arms. My family was reunited! But then, I realized me and The G weren't in Texas anymore....