The Random Writings of Rachel: March 2013

The Most Beautiful Girl

Seriously, what kind of person is cute at every single age of their life? Most of us have an awkward year or three in there somewhere. But I swear, my baby sister Anna has always looked gorgeous. 

I might be just a little biased. You know how some moms are about their babies? I'm kind of like that about my Anna.



 Not only is she drop-dead gorgeous, she has the sweetest personality. She's not one bit like me. She's quiet, and she doesn't seek the spotlight for anything. She smart as a whip, and just has one year of high school left to go. As you can see from the pictures, she's tiny. She's so small she makes me look tall, but it doesn't matter her size, when she riled up about something or if anybody tries to hurt somebody she loves, she's ready to fight. I've recently come up with a plan that she will live with us when we have kids because for one thing, she is an awesome babysitter, and for another thing, my ideal life involves living with both Angel and Anna and having them fight over who loves me the most. It's a genius plan. Now I just have to convince everyone else of my genius.

Anna was born on an Easter Sunday, and today it's Easter Sunday and it's her birthday again. Before I know it, she'll be all grown up. I can't wait to see you again, baby Anna. Happy Birthday!

IceBreaker Saturday #3

Today's Question: What's your favorite animal?
 
 Morphine vs. the cows in the backyard
 
 
Rachel: None. Except maybe fish, because they don't hardly take any maintenance and they don't come close to me.

Angel: I really like cats, so I think they're my favorite. But I can tell you which animals I dislike the most: Moles, Possums, and Woodchucks, in that order.

Your turn!
 
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I'm Proud of Him

Last year, Angel backed down our driveway, straight into a parked car belonging to my Grandpa. The first words out of my mouth, after staring in shock and wondering how can you get into a car accident in your own driveway, were, "I love you. I'm proud of you."
This picture was taken the same day as that car incident. Turns out, my own car broke a belt later that day and we had to get a tow truck.
I have to admit...I've memorized such phrases and have used them as a mechanism to prevent myself from lashing out and saying something hurtful during the worst of times. In moments like those, I'm trying my darndest not to unleash perfectionist me onto my poor husband and I'm also reminding myself that, in fact, I do love him and I am proud of him. I'm pretty sure I said those same exact words when he forgot his wallet on our way to Texas. Or when he locked our keys in the car when we were on a date.

In all honestly, I'm not terribly proud of Angel for those specific events....because I am aware that they are not his most brilliant moments. But I am proud of my husband, for many other reasons.

I'm proud of the fact that he got his bachelor's degree, and I'm proud of him for going back to school for his master's.

I'm proud of his decision to "be practical" and pursue a degree in nursing rather than in philosophy.

I'm proud when I hear him switch instantly from speaking English with me to speaking Spanish with the butcher we buy our meat from, or with family members he's speaking to on the phone. Effortless bilingualism intrigues me, and in my opinion, is something to be proud of.

I'm proud when I hear him talking theology with or giving career advice to his younger brother on the phone.

I'm proud when he fixes our cars all by himself. Okay, sometimes with the help of Google.

 I'm proud of the fact that he left the country and traveled all alone to come to the other side of the world to meet my family for the very first time, meet all my friends, and propose to me. Talk about bravery.

And you know what, I'm proud to be married to a good-looking man! It might not be the most important characteristic of a person, but it sure is nice to be able to say, "Yeah, I'm with him."

So, yeah, I'm proud that he's my husband. And when he achieves something awesome, I'm going to make sure everybody knows it. And when he does make a mistake, I'm not going to be harsh on him. To me, that's part of what you sign up for when you get married--when you're down and out, when you know that you did something stupid....I promise that I'm not going to rub it in and make you feel worse than you already feel. We're in this together, we're doing life together, and while sometimes I might need to grit my teeth to say it...I'll always say: I'm proud of you, Angel.

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Signature Style


 "Are you actually wearing forks in your ears??"

I can't tell you how many times I've heard that particular question. Or the other big one. "Are those paperclip earrings?"

Or one of my more memorable encounters. "I consider myself adventurous when it comes to fashion, but I would never, ever wear pinecone earrings. You're braver than I am!"

And I think, really? It takes bravery to wear my lovely gold-dipped pinecone earrings? Because I can think of a lot of things that take bravery, and wearing pinecone earrings is not one of them.

Angel can rest easy on this one, because I think it's highly unlikely that I'll ever be putting something like "diamond earrings" on one of my Christmas wish lists. I only have three piercings total, all ear piercings. Why would I want to fill them up with boring, expensive, classy bling when I could dangle something random, odd, and unexpected from my ears instead?

We all have our own signature style. A certain kind of look that we go back to again and again, no matter what season of life we're in, no matter what fashion trends come and go. Mine is odd earrings.


Here's my collection. I know they don't compare to any brand name or precious gemstone earrings--most of mine are in the $5-$10 price range. I know I also have a pair of safety pin earrings, but I couldn't find them at the time. If you get word of any other brilliantly different earrings for sale around the web, let me know. Modcloth usually has some good ones, I know. That's where I bought my forks last year.

What's your signature style?
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What We Eat


Our Grocery List:
{Is often written at least 50% in Spanish, just so I get a little extra practice}
Avocados
Tomatos
Cantalope
Romaine Lettuce or Spinach {Must be organic, per Angel's decree}
Onions--lots
Mandarin Oranges
Nectarines
Baby Bok Choy {My favorite veggie. But it's hard to find around here!}
Bananas
Potatoes {must come in a brown paper bag, because Angel said so}
Berries, if on sale {organic, for the same reason as above} 
Tortilla Chips
Frozen Chicken Breasts
Frozen Wild-Caught Salmon
Canned Solid White Albacore
Whole wheat Spaghetti
Tortillas--corn tortillas for tacos, flour tortillas for quesadillas
Tostadas
Maple Syrup Ham from the deli {I think it tastes really bad, but Angel eats it on his tostadas}
Pinto Beans
Canned Cream of Chicken Soup
Apple Pie {but not from the grocery store, from a local restaurant. Angel typically buys a pie and eats it all by  himself over the course of a week}
 Salted Butter
Canola Oil
Grape Nuts {Currently the  only cereal I will eat. For years previously, it was off-brand Wheat Chex}
2% Milk
Large Eggs
Frozen Vegetables {In 'steamable' packages, Angel eats them for lunches at work}
Yogurt--sometimes Greek, sometimes not.
Whole wheat bagels.
Frozen Hashbrowns {hey, where I'm from, there's no such luxury as already chopped up potatoes so I sure appreciate them now!)
Popcorn kernels for the air-popper
Basmati Rice
Coarse-Ground Black Pepper
M&M cookies from the bakery


*The picture of our fridge above was taken the day after a grocery shopping trip, so that's what it looks like when it's full. Angel and I try to go two weeks or occasionally more between grocery shopping trips, because it's not the most fun thing to do in the world, so more often than not, our fridge looks, "Nice and clean and empty," or at least that's how I describe it. When it's getting close to shopping day, I start planning meals like....popcorn....or, au-gratin potatoes made with yogurt instead of milk because we don't have any milk....or fried rice. Fried rice is an awesome end-of-your rope meal because you can pretty much put anything in it, and we buy our rice in 20 lb. bags so we're never out!

Any other good foods you think we should try? It's always nice to add a little variety, especially with different fruits and veggies. Our selection is fairly limited here--I have to go to different grocery stores even to buy baby bok choy or jicama and guava. 
 
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Dress Well to Test Well




 Angel!! Why oh why do you make me pose in the liquor aisle???
I’ve always been a big believer in “Dress well, Test well.” After all, I’m happier when I love the clothes I’m wearing, so if I wear a lovely outfit on exam day, I’ll be happier about taking my exams. 

So, when exam week came around at the end of every semester in college, you would typically find me in dresses and heels. Some of my classmates might be pulling all-nighters and showing up to tests in their pajamas, but I was convinced that I tested better on a full night of sleep and while wearing my Sunday best.


Since I’m no longer in college, exam week is no longer a part of my life. However, I continue to carry the “Dress well, Test well” idea with me, though I may apply it in a slightly unusual way. You see, I view going to the dentist and the doctor as equivalent to tests. After all, aren’t those visits called exams? And man, do I know how to ace those exams! It’s very rare that anyone can even convince me to go to the doctor in the first place, but once I’m there….well, I don’t mean to brag, but I know all the right answers for that entire three page health history form that they make you fill out.


Angel was slightly horrified the first time he took me to the doctor and he let me fill out my own health history form.  As he looked it over, he pointed out, “Rachel, you checked NO for chronic pain. The reason we’re here is because of chronic pain.”
 

You see, I view choosing all of the right answers on the intake form as more important than actually telling the truth on the intake form. And of course, the right answers are the ones that make you appear the most healthy.
 

Angel disagrees with me on that, but whatever. 


This week, I had to go to the dentist, so of course I dressed up for the occasion. This tradition of dressing up is one I love. Just like final exams, I dread attending doctor and dentist appointments, but being dressed up helps me feel a little happier about the day. I would have worn my red high heels with this outfit, and then I would have felt even more awesome, but cowboy boots were more appropriate for the steadily accumulating snow.


And you know what? I aced the test. The dentist told me I had awesome teeth. Must have been the Shabby Apple dress. Do you practice any form of "Dress well, Test well"? If not, give it a try. If you don't expect to have a great day due to an annoying meeting or some other challenge that you really don't feel like facing--put on your very favorite outfit. It might help, just a little.

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A Relationship in Pictures

Today, it's been 3 years since we've officially been 'together'. Therefore, there shall be pictures!

May 2009. Just friends. The end of my freshman year, and the day Angel graduated from college. The first time we ever took a picture together. Little did he know we'd be taking so many more pictures in the years to come!

March 2010: Angel came to visit on Spring Break, specifically for the purpose of seeing me. We look soooo awkward. Can you tell I'm like: "We're at Grandma and Grandpa's house--I'm not sitting any closer to you than this."

March 24, 2010: Just a few days later, the day after Mom and Dad gave us their official permission to begin courting. Angel headed back to TX a few hours after this photo was taken.

End of June 2010: The first time I saw Angel again after March 24th. Meeting him at the airport.

July 2, 2010: We got engaged on the 3rd day of his visit!

2nd week of July 2010: Our engagement party.

Late September 2010: This was the day Angel interviewed for and got hired for a nursing job in my town!

November 2010: Angel moved to Michigan and started his new job 2 and a half weeks before our wedding, but we still found time for a little togetherness

December 4, 2010

 December 2010: Our first Christmas together was after we were already married!

June 2011: We waited to have our honeymoon till I finished my junior year of college, and we took a road trip to Mammoth Cave National Park, KY.

 December 2011: For our first anniversary, we went out to an arcade and won a bumblebee with all of our tickets.

May 2012: My college graduation

December 2012: Angel planned a surprise getaway for our 2nd anniversary.

 Three years worth of adventures together, and we're still smiling!

Angel-isms, Part 3

 I sincerely hope Angel never stops being himself, if for no other reason than so that I always have blog posts to share with you guys.

The 28 year old versus the 6 year old:
Angel: Hey Shawn, let me play with your truck.
Shawn: Umm, no.
Angel: Why not?
Shawn: Dad already crashed it before. And this is a very special truck. I just got it for Christmas and I don't think you really know how to be careful with it.
Angel: Fine then. My Xbox is a very special toy that I got for Christmas and I don't really think you know how to be careful with it either, so I guess you just won't play it next time you're at my house.
Shawn: Hey Angel, you can play with my truck. Just be really careful and don't crash it.

At the shoe store, Angel is perplexed by what he thinks is an extremely ugly shoe:
Angel: Excuse me, but has anyone bought this shoe?
Saleslady: No, not at this store, as far as I know.
Angel: Who the heck would buy this kind of shoe?
Saleslady: Well, they are very popular on the East and West coasts, but I don't think they've caught on here in the Midwest yet. 

Paying for a purchase at Things Remembered
Angel: *hands the sales lady two dollars* And this is for you.
Sales Lady: Umm, no, we don't take tips here. But we do take thank-yous!
Angel: Really? No tips? Well thank you very much then!
*walking outside the store*
Rachel: What made you think that you're supposed to give a tip?
Angel: She was doing artistic work, she did the engraving! I think that deserves a tip!

A conversation about Angel's clinical assignment
Rachel: So you have to conduct interviews with patients who have diabetes? How are you going to convince them to talk to you and answer your questions?
Angel: Well I was thinking of bribing them, but what can I bribe them with? At first I was thinking candy, but they have diabetes... 

Seriously though, does anyone else besides Angel understand the reasoning behind tipping a Things Remembered salesperson? I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but I never would have thought of that!

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WBBE: When Your Clients Make you Cry

I'm not talking about the clients who scold you or yell at you, whether you've made a mistake or whether they think you might make a mistake. We get some mean people in the salon, clients who have made other students cry, but thankfully, I haven't been matched up with one of them yet. Hint: If what you tell us is, "My own stylist at {insert name of VERY pricey salon} can't even get my hair right half the time," we'll wonder why in the world you would choose to go to a beauty school to get your hair cut for $5.

 My least talkative client
I'm talking about the client I had who told me that her husband died two years ago. They'd been married for decades, and she said that she still didn't really enjoy living alone. "We did everything together," she said, "We went grocery shopping together and did all of our errands together. We were best friends, so all of the fun things we did, we did together."

"Sometimes I wonder if we hadn't done everything together....if we'd had more separate activities and if I'd been more used to doing errands by myself, if that would have made it easier, now that he's gone." she continued.

She told me that until just recently, she'd carried his wallet instead of her own in her purse everywhere she went, but finally she'd mustered up the strength to throw it away and buy a brand new one.

I held it together till she left the salon, but as I was washing my combs and wiping down my scissors with alcohol, a few tears started streaming down my face. To me, it was heartbreaking to hear this widow wondering aloud if she'd made this season of life harder on herself by spending so much of her married life by her husband's side.

The thought of losing your husband isn't really something that you think about when you're 21 years old and you're still in the newlywed stage. Unless, of course, you happen to work in a beauty salon serving a large number of widows.

Given the typical lifespans of men and women, and given the fact that Angel is scandalously older than I am, it's possible that someday I won't have a husband. Possible. But I'm not anxious about when that day might come, whether it be sooner, or whether it be later. I refuse to let the thoughts of the woman who thinks maybe she should have lived a life more separate from her husband, if only to make the loss of him easier on herself, affect the way I  live with my husband. I'm going to keep making grocery shopping, and buying stamps, and paying our cell phone bill into dates. I'm going to keep counting down the hours until when he gets home from work. I'm going to plan vacations that include him and I'm going to come up with projects for us to accomplish together. I believe that spending as much time as I can with the husband I love now is worth any amount of grief if a day ever comes that I can't be with him anymore.

To me, loving people, and loving people intensely, is worth every bit of the agony that comes from loving a creature whose life in this world is but a short one. And man, that whole "no more death" thing? I'm looking forward to that.

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I Write.

I've always been the kind of person who writes.

I've kept diaries fairly consistently since I was seven. They're hilarious. In high school  I would talk my Mom out of the boring homework assignments in our school curriculum by promising to write stories instead. Also in high school, I instituted a family newsletter that I forced all of my younger siblings to write for, and I would put it together using Microsoft publisher and print out issues once a month. It was awesome. I still have every copy of the TBK (We wanted to give our newsletter a name that sounded like the kind of name an evil secret society might have), and I cherish those issues, and the bizarre articles we wrote in them.


In college I published The Random Writings of Rachel and sold most of the copies that I had printed. There's still a few left, if anyone's interested. I sent off dozens of articles to magazines, and had articles published in Devozine and Guide Magazine. I wrote query letters to publishers, trying my darnedest to entice them into taking a look at my children's book manuscripts, but none were interested. I still think those children's books are brilliant, and I'll read them to my own kids someday, if to no one else.

The words I write aren't poetic. Often, they don't carry any deep, significant meaning. I'm not the kind of writer that can tug at your heartstrings. Sometimes I do write passionately about hard subjects that mean a lot to me. More often, I enjoy taking an unusual perspective on a common topic, making people laugh, or milking a little extra enjoyment out of something funny that happened in my day by taking the time to record it.

Last year I started blogging, and at the moment, I can't imagine my life without this outlet and opportunity for creating with words. Through blogging, I now have the opportunity to be part of the writing team for QUITE Magazine, and I cannot wait to see the exciting things that I know will happen with that project in the months to come. {By the way, there's still time to subscribe and receive the the very first issue of QUITE for $4.50. Not too shabby of a price to see your favorite Rachel's name in print, right????}

Some hobbies are for certain seasons of life. When I was a kid, I crocheted. I haven't done it in years. Maybe someday, I'll do it again. From time to time, I'll go through phases where I embroider incessantly. Lately, I've been experimenting with my sewing machine, and I like it. But I've always been writing, and I'm quite convinced that I always will. Perhaps, one of these days writing will turn into a little career for me. Honestly, that's my dream. For now, I'll keep writing, and I'm so grateful for every one of my readers who supports and encourages me along the way!
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How to Not be Mistaken for a Boy

I'm well aware that I've been blessed with the type of figure that does not immediately advertise the fact that I am a girl. That, combined with my frequent preference for short, messy curls over a more traditional long haircut has more than once put me in a situation in which I was asked, "Are you a boy or a girl?"
 
Me, before I took my own advice.
 
After looking at that picture, can you really blame them? Sorry about the odd angle....it turns out that for some strange reason I don't have many pictures from that time period of my life. 
 
I've gained a pound or two since then, but besides that, neither my figure nor my random desires to chop off my  hair have changed. Still, it's been years since the last time someone inquired as to my gender, and I believe it's because I've gotten a little better at working with what I've got. Here are my tricks:
 
1. Dresses!! In the picture above, I fall victim to 3 classic blunders, guaranteed to turn any skinny girl into a person of indeterminate gender. 1) Baggy, unisex T-shirt. 2) Khaki cargo pants. 3) Athletic shoes. One of the three is a bad idea, but all three together? Death. Today, I'm much more likely to be found in brightly colored dresses.
 
2. Dangly Earrings. Sure, lots of guys have their ears pierced, but I've never seen a guy wearing dangling stars, butterflies, paperclips, bumblebees, or apples from their ears.
 
3. Lipstick. I'm not a makeup girl at all. I've got my Dad's nose and my eyelashes are shorter than my husband's. But there's one feature I have that is unmistakeably womanly, and those are my lips, so I emphasize them.      
 
4. Hair. Just because you're hair is too short to put it in an updo or braid it doesn't mean it has to be boring. These days, I hardly go anywhere without clipping in a bow or a flower clip. It's a win-win situation: I don't have to do my hair, and I still look like a girl! 
  
Me, taking my own advice. Note the flower, apple, and lipstick.
 
 Am I the only one who's ever been asked "Are you a boy or a girl?" Tell me I'm not alone!
 
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Icebreaker Saturday #2: Smells

Today's question is one that was asked at a small group meeting we went to a few years ago. I guarantee you that some answers will be weirder than others. For example, Angel's answer will be weirder than mine.

Icebreaker Question: What is your favorite smell?


Rachel: An Indian restaurant. The minute I walk in, my mouth starts watering.

Angel: Rachel is my favorite smell.

See, I warned you! He said that exact same answer at the small group meeting when this question was asked. It was a little awkward.

Your turn!
 
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The Great Chicago Adventure

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I mean, come on. Angel, Lizzy, Isaac, and I have all traveled both internationally and all over the US. We've traveled alone and we've traveled with family and with various and sundry friends. We've traveled by airplane, car, bus, and train. You'd think that a simple little plan to have a quick roadtrip, a  weekend getaway to Chicago, would be easy for us to pull off.

You'd think. But you'd be wrong.

Our plan was to leave in the wee hours of Sunday morning, arrive in time to go to church with my uncle and aunt and cousins, go out to dinner with them, visit some friends in Chicago, stay overnight, see some of the sights of Chicago on Monday, and head home in time to make it back before dark on Monday evening.

The day before we left for the trip, my Grandpa called Angel and ordered him to take the car that Lizzy drives, rather than my car. Grandpa owns the car and it's a Park Avenue. As such, it's as big as a boat, and it's five years younger than my car, so Angel saw no reason to disagree with Grandpa's request. Grandpa's reasoning was that if four of his grandkids were going on a road trip, he wanted us in something sturdy with lots of airbags. Makes sense, right?

Well, wrong.

Sunday was absolutely perfect. Everything went according to plan. We got out of the house on time, our GPS didn't fail us, and we accomplished all of our planned activities. Since we're not from a big city, the intensity of Chicago traffic did surprise us a little, but we really had fun, and went to bed that night, completely worn out.

The next day, we went to the Museum of Science and Industry, with plans to head straight back to Michigan after seeing everything there was to see at the museum.

 I kind of think that this photo prop was meant for smaller children....

 We lost Isaac and Lizzy for a bit, time for a self-timer photo! 

 They had an airplane that you could sit inside at the museum, so of course we had to show that we had something illegal on the airplane. Lizzy had her facial moisturizer in her backpack, so there we were! Bad girls with illegal moisturizer on an airplane. We didn't even have a quart-size clear plastic bag or anything.

 We just so happened to pass by an eyeball dissecting lab...

Do not be fooled by the glove. I had no intention of participating in dissection. I was there to take pictures. Minutes after this picture was taken, I had to leave the room. It's a good thing I never wanted to join the medical profession.

After an afternoon at the museum, we piled into the car, paid for parking, and headed out. I was still trying to get the GPS to set a route to our home address in Michigan when, at the second intersection out from the museum, we were stopped in the left turn lane. The light turned green for us to go, Angel stepped on the gas, and we didn't move.

Panic mode. Lizzy, Isaac, and I were yelling random instructions as if we knew anything about cars. "Turn on the hazard lights!" "Shift into Neutral!" "Turn off the car and turn it back on again!" "Go!" "Stop!" "Ahhhh!"

Cars were lined up behind us, honking incessantly, and when Angel finally got the car moving, he knew that if he hit the brakes, it probably wouldn't be able to start moving again, so in spite of the fact that cars were coming towards us, we stuck our hands out in the universal symbol for "Please do not run into our car!" as we turned left across the intersection and Angel pulled over to the side of the road.


Three of us had cellphones. Three of us had cellphone with 50% or less battery power left. Angel started making phone calls. First Grandpa. Then the insurance company. Then the person you call to arrange a tow truck. That person said that only two of us could ride with the tow truck, that the other two would have to get a taxi.

We waited an hour for the tow truck. When it finally came, the four of us got out, and Angel asked if we could ride in the car while it was being towed. The man said, "It doesn't really look like you have a choice!" and we all piled back in the car before anyone could say anything about policies. The car was towed to a GM dealership, and I called my aunt, who lives a hour or so outside the city, to break the news that her nephews and nieces weren't back in Michigan as expected, but needed to be picked up and given a place to stay until the car situation could be figured out.

She told us she was on her way, but there was some distance to cover, and with the big city traffic, the trip between her house and where we were wasn't a quick one. The dealership was closing, so we used our trusty GPS to locate a McDonald's within walking distance.

 And we walked. Angel didn't even have a jacket, but I don't think he minded. I happened to be wearing two jackets, which I consider excellent foresight on my part.

 Lizzy proposed a plan of staying in a 24-hour McDonald's all night long. Isaac said that as long as we all took turns ordering something new every hour, they'd probably let us stay. Angel and I did not think that that was the best plan, so we were glad our aunt was on her way.

We all made it safely out of the city, and back to our aunt's house. When we woke up the next morning, we waited anxiously till noon to find out the mechanic's verdict on the car. He said it needed a new transmission. Grandpa said that the cost of putting a new transmission in a 12 year old car wasn't worth it, so he would head out from Michigan with his brother and a flatbed truck to pick up the car and bring it back to Michigan to see what else could be done for it.

In the meantime, we had to get home! Lizzy and Angel both had to work on Thursday, and I was missing school. How can you get from the suburbs of Chicago to West Michigan? By train, of course!

Theoretically, we knew this was possible, but actually navigating this particular train system was new to us. Still, it was an adventure just waiting to be had!

Isaac and Lizzy on our first train.

After the first train, we walked to Union Station and managed to find the right place to buy Amtrak tickets.

And our Amtrack train finally pulled into our destination at 10 P.M. Tuesday night. My grandparents were there to pick us up and bring all of us home.

After this adventure was over, we amused ourselves by counting up how many people we managed to inconvenience with this little vacation debacle of ours:

1. The people in the cars behind us in the left turn lane.
2. My aunt--who had to drive hours in heavy traffic to rescue us.
3.My uncle and cousins--we ate their food and slept in their beds.
4. My grandpa and great-uncle--had to drive approximately 10 hours round-trip to pick up the broken car.
5. My grandma--drove to my house yesterday to pick Lizzy and Isaac up and bring them home.
6. My other grandparents--were out and about picking us up from the train station and driving us home late at night.

You have to admit that's impressive.

A story like this makes you really, really thankful for all the people who love you even when you cause them large quantities of trouble.

Next time, we'll just take my car.
 
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