On why I'm afraid of airports

I've never really done well with goodbyes. I cried every year of college that I had to say goodbye to my parents except the last year. The only reason I didn't cry then, was because I was going home, to the family with whom I'd lived the year before. I cried when I moved out after I graduated.

When Geoff and I started dating, we only saw each other every 4 months or so, sometimes more, sometimes less. I was living in Massachusetts, working as a reporter and Geoff was living in Idaho, finishing up school. It was then that I started to hate airports. The excitement of seeing Geoff again couldn't override the anxiety I always felt leaving him.

Even now, after just over a year and a half, I still can't stand the airport. Of course now I'm leaving family behind, which is a completely different feeling, but causes pain nonetheless. This week I said goodbye on 3 different occasions, since our family left at different times throughout the week. The last goodbye caused a complete meltdown, despite the fact that Geoff and I really are happy to be alone in our house, getting back to our routines again.
At least when I said goodbye to my mom, I didn't have to see the airport.

Do you have any completely unreasonable fears or dislikes?

Week in review

Here are some of the awesome things we did this past week, in no particular order, while entertaining two moms, a dad, and a sister and brother-in-law:

• Curtained the last room in the house (pictures to come!)

• Went to a Red Sox game and watched the Sox win (yay!)

• Grilled and ate fresh salmon from Pike's Place Market

• Grilled chicken, burgers, veggies and corn on the cob (our grill got a workout!)

• Drank wine, beer and Moxie

• Watched Tangled and A League of Their Own 

• Repaired the outside faucet and a leaky-not-up-to-code bathtub, thanks to my plumber brother-in-law

• Generally had an excellent time with a lot of family.

What did you do last week?

Dad

When I was in middle school my dad was the most embarrassing person I knew. I was convinced he was out to make my life miserable.
His crimes?

He wore mismatched socks and showed people.
One time he arrived at youth group to pick me up wearing a mask and calling himself the Dread Pirate Roberts
He wore a "funny nose and glasses" (the glasses with the fuzzy eyebrows and mustache) to youth group (where my friends called him Cool Mr. Steve! He was anything but cool to me)
He drove through the center of town with the windows down and a friend in the car with Born to be Wild blasting.

And many more.

When I was 24 I loaded up my VW Beetle (affectionately named Maximum Speed, Max for short) and drove from Massachusetts to Washington. With my dad. With my dad, and his eclectic taste in music, and his excitement to drive cross-country with his daughter. (By the way, not to be outdone, my younger sister is driving from Massachusetts to California this summer...with guess who?)

My dad is awesome. Does everyone say this? That cross country drive was not one of the most relaxing things I've ever done. I got angry, frustrated when we got stuck, cabin fever because that is a very small vehicle and it's a very long trip. But at the end of the day? Aside from the two days we spent in Wyoming, I wouldn't trade that trip for anything. I'm not sure I ever expressed how grateful I am that I spent that time with my dad.

And those embarrassing acts? Well, lets just say that it took me years to realize that he did it because he loved me. Someday I hope my kids have a dad who loves them enough to embarrass them in front of all their friends.

Thanks, dad. Thanks for embarrassing me, and driving with me, and the many many many other things we've done together. I love you.

Happy Father's Day, dad.