The Happenings

I realize half of my blog readers have heard this story already, but it just screams "blog post!"

My flight left at 735. The plan was for me to drive downtown and get Kurt from work and then he'd drive me the rest of the way to the airport. It took me 35 minutes via I-5 to get downtown. It was 530 when Kurt and I left the Honda of Seattle parking lot. We decided to take 99 since I-5 was going so slow. Traffic was horrible downtown. 1 hour later we still hadn't reached the highway. I was starting to panic. I called my mom and (of course) I started crying- "I'm not going to make it!". She automatically went into mom mode assuring me it would be ok, that I could still make it, and even if I missed the flight that there will always be another one. At 705 we finally reached 99 and SPED our way to the airport. I jump out of the car at 720 and ran to Southwest's front desk- "my flight leaves in 15 minutes, can I make it?". The lady's response "Were you the daughter crying on the phone?" "yes"- my mom had been talking to some people. The lady printed my ticket without even checking my ID and told me "once you get through security turn left, then you'll take a right. You're headed to B12- there will be signs too. Now RUN!". And that's what I did. I ran to security, asked two people if I could cut in front of them, and then literally sprinted to my gate. When I got there group B was boarding. I went to the front of the line and got on the plane since I was in group A. So to recap- It took almost 2 hours from downtown Seattle to make it to Seatac. I arrived at the airport 15 minutes before my plane left and made the flight. Crazy!!! So aside from that drama it was a great trip! My grandparents, sister, bro-in-law, uncle, and adorable niece were all able to see me thanks to my sprinting ability...and the fact that there were no lines whatsoever at the airport may have helped out a bit.

Here are some pictures of Charlotte at breakfast. She's very expressive!

Meet Lucas

Here he is in his 2-sizes-too-big-hand-me-down-oh-so-cute-Spiderman-boots.

He's one of 4 nephews I acquired in the marriage. Watch him play baseball!

How to make the best sandwich you'll ever have:

hike to the top of a mountain, then eat.


Going up!

Through the trees

 

Through the clouds

Half way there and a little tired already.

Nice view from the top!

Celebrating with some Teddy Grahams.

Higher elevation:

Play ball!

Basketball that is. I'm currently watching (kind of) the NBA final with Kurt and here's my question: Don't giant 7ft tall men stand out enough already? Why dress them in equally giant yellow jump suits?

Graduation

Warning: this is a serious post :)

I have not been looking forward to graduation. My college years have been awesome/fantastic/wonderful. I loved my classes, my friends, and I don't want to leave it all behind. I've been a part of academia for as long as I can remember and I've been good at it. I got excellent grades and have at least doubled my 'random facts' knowledge, which is a bonus in my mind. I guess what it boils down to is that I'm afraid- I'm scared of leaving my comfort zone and going out into the unknown workforce. I feel like my history degree doesn't make me any more marketable than before college. I don't know what kind of job I want to look for. People say that history majors can get a huge variety of jobs, but they always fail to tell me what those jobs are. That's what I've been feeling these past few weeks as graduation has approached. It was hard to answer/react to people who asked- aren't you soo excited to be done with school?!! I wasn't.

And then the day arrived- I went to my History Department graduation. And it was great! It was good to see people I had classes with and listen to the accomplishments and studies of the PhD and Masters graduates. The speakers were entertaining and the entire thing lasted no more than 1 hour. After we all had our names called and walked across the stage the audience was asked one last time to applaud the graduates. I turned around to see my mom standing and clapping loudly with tears in her eyes. It was the first time I felt like I had accomplished something. I had done something good and worthwhile, but now it was time to come to an end. My mom, Kurt and I went out to eat afterward and had a great time together. It was a wonderful day.

Then today at work my co-workers surprised me with a congratulatory party. We had rocky road ice cream (my favorite) and they gave me an alumni mug, UW letter opener, and some chocolate. I could tell that they really were happy for and even proud of me for graduating. It was a wonderful surprise.

College was great and I will miss it, but that's ok. I might not have a plan yet for my next phase of life, but life will continue whether I know exactly where I'm stepping or not. And no matter what happens I'll have Kurt, my family, and friends watching out for me, ready to help at any second. Thank you to everyone who has helped me over the past 4 years. I found my best friends, my husband, and myself at the University of Washington. My college experience has shaped who I am today and I like who I've become! Farewell UW- you're history (pun)! But I will miss you.

The end is the beginning

I find it slightly poetic that my laptop battery- the battery to the computer I bought for college- wore out the week I graduated from the University of Washington. Poetry in motion.

"So what do you say?

I say...that what you say...is what I say."

This has been running through my head for the past while.

Who knows what it's from?

Psychology

I went to Kurt's psych department graduation ceremony this evening. They had 2 ladies read the names of the graduates as they filed by on stage. After the keynote speaker the two women stood up from their chairs on stage...there was at least a foot difference between their heights. Initially I thought one was standing on a step or something, but no. They walked around to the front of the stage where they had to share a microphone. Share a microphone! They ended up locking it in place at about the top of the short lady's head. She could then stand on her toes and the tall woman could hunch over, well...bend is more like it, to speak into it. Oh man. Who planned that one?

Sisters

I saw my sister Ani for the first time in a couple months. She gave me a hug looked at my face, pointed at my chin and asked "what's that?". "It's a zit. Thanks for noticing".

Good times :)