How I Met My Husband and Other Zany Adventures Part 2

I recommend reading Part 1 first.

Cell phone in the Sands

Once again, I would like to remind everyone that this is what actually happened. This has not been embellished for comedic effect.

It happened on the night of the blue moon too. Honestly. So, let me begin, "Once in a blue moon..."

My friend Dave was visiting from Ireland. (This takes place after the previous story, obviously.) My roommate, Amy, and I even turned the awkward alcove in our apartment into a castle. Okay, a castle made of old refrigerator boxes we'd raided and then painted to look like a castle. This way, we had a guest bedroom. And our very own castle, who doesn't want to brag about that?

Alas, we forced him to leave the security of his cardboard fortress to venture forth on the classic American Road Trip. Keep in mind, he's from Ireland. I took a "road trip" over there with some of my friends, and after two hours, the driver had to stop and rest. "Two hours is too much." I looked around in confusion. "Are you kidding me? I'm just getting warmed up."

So, from Lawrence, we set out to see the Rockies, Mesa Verde, Grand Canyon, Moab, and of course, our first real destination, the Great Sand Dunes in Colorado. That's 662 miles from Lawrence or 1066 km. Google maps claims it takes 11 hours 15 minutes, but we made it in 10.

We also drove through a very lovely storm on the high plains with the lightning stabbing at the ground. Of course, while this storm is going on, the other half of the sky is completely blue. I'll never forget Dave look back and forth between blue sky-vicious storm-blue sky-vicious storm.

Amy and I thought it was perfectly normal. Because it is. Just not normal for the rest of the planet. We left all the lightning behind when he climbed into the Rockies, and soon arrived at the Great Sand Dunes National Monument.

It's getting closer to sunset, but we start on the dunes anyway. Come on, literal mountains of sand. It's like the sandbox from when you were a kid multiplied by infinity. How can one resist playing in it?

To gain perspective if you've never been there, here is a photograph.

Hmmm.... why do I feel like this is missing something?

That's better!

So, there we were walking across Tatoonie the Great Sand Dunes Desert.

The further we got into the dunes, the lower the sun drifted and out came the blue moon. We were having a blast climbing up and jumping down the mountains of sand. However, around the nearby peaks, I kept an eye on the gathering clouds and the dancing lightning.

Soon, they started to drift toward the dunes. Literal mountains of sand + lightning + humans = Bad Idea. There's no cover. Although, if you take the humans out of the equation, lightning + sand = fulgurite, which is a mineral I find really cool. Yes, I still collect rocks. I am not ashamed of this.

However, with an oncoming storm, we needed a way to quit the sandy peaks with speed, and none of us had concealed a sled on our persons. So, we decided to roll. It'll be like we're kids again!

I about made myself sick. Rolling down those hills was great at first. Then, on distances that one should considered taking a sled, the fun of rolling quickly, well, unrolls and turns into that roller coaster ride that you can't get off until it's over.

At the little shelf between the base of one dune running into the slope of another dune, I slid to a stop. I sat and stared while I waited for the stars to stop circling around in the sky. I seriously thought I was going to lose my dinner.

Then, for some reason unknown, I rolled down the next slope. Obviously, in this, Amy, Dave and I split up. Too many arms and legs to bounce into. I waited for them to catch up to me, and I saw Amy kicking at the sand.

She'd forgotten to stick her personal items in pockets where they wouldn't jump for freedom, and had lost: keyring, flashlight, pocket knife and cell phone (or mobile phone, as Dave kept insisting).

But, without the flashlight, we weren't going to be able to trace our steps. The lightning flashes sure weren't luminous enough, except when they became very bright and you become a fixture in fulgarite. The wind pushed my hair into my face and kicked up the sands around my feet. I knew that our tracks would be gone tomorrow.

Calling the cell phone was useless too. No reception. (Hopefully, they've fixed that by now, but probably not.)
That night was spent shaking sand out of our clothing at an Alamosa hotel. It got everywhere. I was human sandpaper! Unfortunately, what it was sanding was my skin.

The next day, we reported Amy's losses at the ranger's station, and the guy laughed at us. Frankly, I didn't blame him. We trekked back out into the dunes. Of course, no tracks.

I saw something bright bouncing back the early sun at us. I scrambled through the sands, and it was a candy wrapper! I couldn't believe it! Why would anyone leave something that like out here? It would never get picked up and these things don't degrade!

This pattern continued seven more times. I couldn't fathom how inconsiderate these people were being. Finally, well ahead of Amy and Dave, I sat down for a water break.

Amy climbed up and collapsed next to me. Wordlessly, I handed over my canteen. She pointed. "I think I see something shiny."

Probably another candy wrapper, but what the hell?

I treaded on my hands and knees to make it up the incline. The sand scattered beneath them, threatening to send me sliding. This would have been a great hill for rolling.

And, there they were. The shiny flashlight, phone, keys and knife. All in one spot. I couldn't believe it.

We reported them found at the ranger's station. This time, the guy responded with, "Uhhhh..." and didn't form an actual word for over a minute. Worth it!

I was still finding sand in those jeans for months. No matter how many times I washed them.

By the way, you can drive from the Grand Canyon (somewhere on the north side) to Lawrence, KS in 21.5 hours (including stops).

**

Driving in that same car, this time to Arkansas, I read the "yeah, right" look all over M's face. At least, after the initial wide-eyed stunned look had faded.

"You're the luckiest person that I've ever met!" he exclaimed. "I don't believe you!"

At that point, I figured I really didn't have a shot with this guy. Funny how I was wrong.

How I Met My Husband and Other Zany Adventures Part 1

I never daydreamed about my perfect wedding. I thought marriage was an antiquated tradition and its main purpose throughout history was to keep women as property. Other than a tax break and other various legal issues leftover from laws that haven't caught up with the times, I sincerely believed that the whole marriage concept didn't have contemporary relevance.

Obviously, I must've been so-oo much fun to date. Maybe that's why nobody asked me out. I was honestly okay with that. I had my own life to sort, and didn't want to have to bother to sort out someone else's life too.

My husband thought along those same lines too. So, how the hell do we wind up dating for two months, decide to get married, and are still enthusiastic about being married for more than two years after the fact?

Um...

Well, it started when we met on a road trip to Arkansas, and my reluctance to be honest. He later said that he thought I was the greatest storyteller he'd ever met, and that I was also one of the most gifted liars he'd ever met.

I believe in being honest with potential friends. I have learned, however, that people hesitate to believe me when I start to tell stories about myself. So, I didn't want to own up just yet.

It's my brother-in-law's fault that I didn't get the chance.

He wasn't my brother-in-law at the time. He was still my sister's boyfriend, and I was meeting his best friend for the first time. Then, we were all going to meet my cousins two states away for a New Year's Eve party.

So, I meet my brother-in-law's bff, the man I eventually marry. That was my second thought about him, that life-altering attraction. My first thought was, 'he looks confused'. Later, I learned that was because he was still waiting for his friend's sister to arrive. He thought I was just a roommate or something because my sis and I look absolutely nothing alike.

My sister and her boyfriend piled into my backseat. I'm still not sure why I got saddled with driving from NE Kansas to NW Arkansas when they already drove over to my apartment in their own car and left it parked there. Oh well. So, they were in the back seat, I was driving, and this attractive guy was in the passenger seat.

Now what? The highway opened for us. I focused on driving because 1) it's considered rude to stare, 2) there's no natural high like buzzing along on the open road and 3) I don't want to die by distracted driving. So, I gave my attention to driving. And, what would I say anyway? "Hey, glad you like my car, yeah, just ignore the textbooks and drive-thru recepits. I didn't know I was going to drive."

In the backseat, my sister's boyfriend leaned forward. "Hey, Deb, M's got to hear about what happened on your way over to Ireland."

"Um, okay. Which time?" But, it didn't matter; I knew exactly what story he wanted me to spill.

(Dear readers, none of these stories are embellished. What is told is what happened.)

On my way to Cork

I studied abroad at University College Cork, Ireland. I don't know why I picked Ireland. Sure, I've got some Irish heritage, but not enough to transplate myself a quarter of the way around the globe. I just knew that's where I wanted to go. So, I did.

But, I had to get there first. Simple plan: Kansas City to Chicago to London to Cork. Okay, simple enough for a college budget.

First delay: sitting on the tarmac in Kansas City because Chicago is having bad weather. I cracked my knuckles. I had a tight connection to make in Chicago, but that was okay. That flight would probably be delayed too because the bad weather was happening over there.

No such luck. As soon as I get off the plane, I grabbed the nearest employee I could find. She assured me that since my original flight still takes off in 5 minutes that American Airlines had moved me on to one that takes off in 30, and here was my new boarding pass. Great. That would still give me time to catch my London to Cork connection.

So, I could relax. I purchased a cinnamon roll, an extra bottle of water and sat down to review my paperwork about my new university, housing arrangements, etc...

And then I heard my name announced over all of Chicago O'Hare, and the PA demanded that I report to my original flight to London. "This is your final boarding call."

I burped up a piece of cinnamon roll, stuffed everything in my backpack and was running before my feet hit the floor. In this run, I learned how freaking huge this airport actually was. Again, I hear my name announced. I kept running, and kept running...

Finally, out of breath, I slapped my hand up on the counter. The door to the jetway was already closed, but everyone was still there. "I'm here," I wheezed and presented my original boarding pass.

The attendant took my paperwork, glanced at it, and then just raised both her eyebrows. "Oh, you were moved to the next flight, didn't anyone tell you?"

"Then why the hell did you just call my name over the intercom!? TWICE!" ...is what I wanted to shout. Instead, I wound up just staring and probably catching flies in my open jaw.

I slept most of the way over to London. I just had to shut the world out for awhile. Once I arrived, I realized that Chicago O'Hare has got nothing on London Heathrow in the realms of huge and confusing.

Other wide eyed American students also stared up at the maps, trying to figure how to navigate the airport. For fifteen minutes, we became comrades in arms - just to get through the airport. And, just like that, we evaporated to go our separate ways.

I was still in time for my connection to Cork. I shuffled through my paperwork one last time, and discovered that I was missing my contact information for when I arrived. No phone, no address to my apartment, no contact name. Literally no clue.

When I made my mad dash in Chicago, it must have not made it back into my backpack. It was probably still sitting in the food court, covered in cinnamon bun fragments. A cold shiver ran up my spine at the same time my face lit on fire. I gulped. What was I going to do?

To make matters worse, when I presented my boarding pass for my final connection, it turned out that American Airlines had canceled my reservation to this flight completely. However, since I had my original boarding pass and obviously still needed to go, they'd let me on because they had extra seats. Go Aer Lingus. Of course, I wouldn't have the seat on the ticket and my luggage had been condemned to limbo.

I plopped my unhappy butt now in my new seat. What a great way to start this adventure. Seriously. What was I going to do when I got there?

Another woman, about my age, took the seat next to me. I ignored her thorougly. I just glared ahead at the back of the seat in front of me. After takeoff, she tried to get the last few stubborn drops out of the bottom of an empy bottle of water.

I sighed and pulled out my unopened bottle that I'd bought inside of O'Hare and offered it. No reason why both of us have to be in sour moods. She accepted it with a nervous smile and said, "Yeah, I'm just coming over here to study abroad."

"Me too." And, as it turns out, she was going to exactly the same apartment complex. Boo-ya.

**

So, back to the road trip. We were still cruising along somewhere on Highway 71 in Missouri with this really cute guy seated in the passenger seat. He shook his head and laughed, and it was the "I don't believe you, but you sure can tell a whopper laugh".

I grinned. Whew. I was glad that was over.

My sister's boyfriend, emerging from the back seat, demanded "Tell the one about the cell phone in the sand!"

Ahhhh! I don't wanna, I don't wanna! I almost shoved my hands over my ears. If M laughed at me for my "going to Cork" story, he really really wouldn't believe this one! Even if it was 100% true.

To be Continued...