Loving Love Stories

          Romance movies, chick flicks, love stories…whatever you want to call them, I enjoy watching them. In fact, I love watching movies about love. Yes, I know you just cringed at how cliché and redundant that sounded. I also know that most of the cheesy scenarios screen writers come up with are hopelessly unrealistic. But I am still willing to spend my time and money to see the same story shoved into innumerable contexts and time periods over and over again. The guy always gets the girl and the girl always gets the ruggedly handsome guy who nine times out of ten practically falls from the sky only to land on her front porch nicely gift wrapped while sporting a killer smile that probably cost his parents a fortune in orthodontist bills---I digress. They all have the same happy endings; I am aware of this detail and, in all honesty, it’s kind-of the point.

          As a disclaimer, I also enjoy movies with unhappy endings. In fact, I am relatively certain that I am the only person on the face of the planet who actually liked Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles. But that's just one example. In addition, I also liked The Stoning of Soraya M., The Diary of Anne Frank, The Boy in Striped the Pajamas, The New World, Bright Star…I could go on, but you get the point. Along with unhappy movies, I also like action movies, foreign films, cartoons, documentaries, and sci-fi/fantasy.

          But romance movies are special. They give you that warm, fuzzy feeling that makes you believe that happiness still exists somewhere in the world. Let’s face it, life is full of misery, victimization, and death. In short, sometimes life just stinks. Even though I willingly see movies that portray the darker side of reality, there are times that I simply prefer crying over a happy love story than weeping over the inevitability of the human fate.  

          On a deeper level, for me romance itself has become a larger analogy of humanity’s relationship with God. Admit it; don’t you hate those stories in which the girl is constantly running from the guy even though they are perfect for each other? In the back of your mind you are wondering, “Ok, when is this going wrap up and have them finally get together.” That’s the story of human history. We run from God even though He is our perfect fit. We run because we refuse to believe that God will actually give us everything He is offering or because we have finally given in to the idea that reality means a life without God.

          If this concept of romance, divine or otherwise, makes me a love obsessed girly-girl then fine, you may dole out your labels as you see fit. But, as a final word, I must interject that wanting to see a little happiness sometimes makes me more of a realist than all the cynics in the world combined. Why? Because in reality, what is life without hope? The hope of peace, the hope of happiness, the hope of eternity; without it every day becomes a meaningless repetition of time until life itself fades into oblivion…What’s the point of that? I have hope for the future and, even though I have no expectations of my future looking like a Hollywood movie production, sometimes watching love stories reminds me that happiness is still possible in a world filled with suffering.

Isolated

I was faced with an uncomfortable fact about myself this weekend. After harboring perpetual fantasies of independence and “making it on my own,” the sudden experience of what it actually felt like to be completely isolated smacked me in the face.

Nothing truly dramatic happened. I was asked to dog sit for a family over the Thanksgiving holiday; so for an entire week it was just me and an old Labrador retriever hanging out in a quiet neighborhood. Being alone has never intimidated me. In fact, the prospect of solitude for extended amounts of time actually seemed like a perk. I enthusiastically made plans to read, write, work, catch up on my “must-see” movie list; even the idea of walking the dog in the peaceful wooded setting next to a running creek added a touch of romance to my expectations (no doubt encouraged by the Gothic novel I am currently reading). 

For the most part, all my expectations were met. I definitely enjoyed my days of peaceful solitude and independence, even though I did not see anyone for days at a time and was without access to a car. The house itself would have been completely bathed in silence had it not been for the whining dog, my momentary bursts of singing, the internet radio, and my multi-genre movie watching binge.

The problem did not surface until the sun set.

The open, flowing contemporary design of the home, which I adored during the day gave me a distinct feeling of unease at night. Every room had either a wall of windows or a skylight, so there was no escaping the dark outside view no matter where I went. Late at night, the dog would periodically run to one of the windows and start barking or growling. It was eerie to peak out the windows only to be startled by my own reflection. I constantly left all the doors locked.

When I went to bed, the house would creak and my over active imagination would turn them into footsteps. There were times when I even thought I heard whispering, which actually turned out to be the dog breathing at the foot of the bed. Needless to say, I did not sleep very well that week. I went to bed late so I could avoid having to turn all the lights off until the last possible moment and was awoken early every morning by the dog. Most days, I would curl up on the couch in broad daylight and try to nab a couple of hours of uninhibited rest.

The fear became so overwhelming one night that I was almost tempted to stay up on the couch until the sun rose. As a disclaimer, I am no stranger to the power of prayer or even to spiritual warfare. It actually did take some intensive prayer to finally get me to relax enough to go to bed (I prayed that Jesus would deliver me from the fear and He did, along with giving me a tender reminder that He had angels encamped around me).

But facing my own vulnerability was unnerving. The girl who had always been so content with the independence of single life suddenly found herself wishing for the security that a husband and family had to offer. All the dreams of traveling by myself and living on my own went flying out the window in favor wanting to have someone stronger nearby. It was quite a “reality check” moment.

Of course, I believe that God will protect me where ever He leads and that the safest place to be is the center of His will. I also believe in the power and might of God no matter what schemes the enemy might use against me. My problem was the fact that, in one week, all my ambitious dreams were squelched by a creaking house and snoring dog!

 It was definitely not what I was expecting from a week of solitude.

The Reading List Begins: Bonhoeffer

"The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.”  Dr. Seuss

Since I started my reading list, it has only gotten exponentially longer. The more I add, the more it looks as if I will be working on this particular goal for years (in which case it might have to be switched over to my bucket list).

The first book on my list was Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxas. The book is a biography of the German theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer who lived during both WWI and WWII and who is now considered to be one of the foremost Christian thinkers of the 20^th century.

There is a lot I can say about this book because it covered a plethora of historical, theological, and ethical issues while still managing to be a page turner. But, rather than recount every minute detail, I am simply going discuss the points that primarily grabbed my attention.

First, perhaps one of my most nagging questions about World War II was answered by reading Bonhoeffer’s story: How could an entire country with a strong Christian heritage be deluded into committing such atrocities? The answer, more or less, was that German patriotism was manipulated by politicians. The Nazis brought the German people a sense of pride in their country after the horror and humiliation of WWI and the Treaty of Versailles. A strong idea of what it meant to be German developed, which made everyone who was non-German (or non-Aryan) a lesser citizen in the eyes of the general population. Even though it was the SS and Gestapo who committed most of the atrocities, the public turned a blind eye and refused to believe what they considered to be propaganda.

 Following the historical progression was heart wrenching. I had always believed that such hatred was purely a hallmark of Nazi Germany and nothing so tragic could ever afflict modern Western Civilization again.  What this book made me realize was that a combination of economic troubles, political dissatisfaction, and willing ignorance on the part of the people were all it took to allow evil to rise. 

Perhaps even more disturbing was the fact that Dietrich Bonhoeffer was one of only a few who saw what was coming and actively tried to prevent it. Other Christian leaders and many of Bonhoeffer’s own colleagues tried to reason with Hitler because they refused to believe that he was maliciously working against Christian principles. It was startling to realize that the Holocaust might have been prevented if the Christian leaders in Germany had been united enough to challenge the government. Unfortunately, too many Christians believed that the Church should only get involved in church related problems. 

Following Bonhoeffer through his letters, journals, and through Metaxas’ commentary as he walked through this mess of twisted theology and politics was…insightful, inspiring, thought provoking, sad, joyful…It was reassuring to discover that there were many in Germany who hated Hitler and the Nazis and who tried to depose them using any means necessary. But, at the same time, it was a hard truth to come by that most Germans were not the monsters I wanted them to be. They were just people with human faults and flaws. The only thing that set Bonhoeffer apart from the manipulated masses was his reliance on the Word of God.

Many Christians during that time had warped the Bible to fit their own ideas. Bonhoeffer, in contrast, believed that the Bible was the foundation and starting place of principles. He took what the Bible said seriously and tried to let it explain itself rather than filtering it through preconceived ideas.  The fact that Bonhoeffer stood with the Jewish people when it was considered unpatriotic to do so (a death wish by German standards) was a testament to his commitment to Biblical truth no matter what the cost.

I would like to note that this biography is the type of book that needs to be read multiple times to fully grasp its contents. I have only read it once; therefore my understanding is still perhaps a bit dim. But, even so, this book is likely to become influential in regards to how I interpret future political and religious issues. I would definitely encourage everyone to read Bonhoeffer. It is inspiring, thought provoking, and, most importantly, it shows that reading and believing the Word of God is the only thing that separates mankind from becoming either the manipulated or the monsters.

Metaxas, Eric. Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2010. Print.

Sky Diving: I Actually Did It!

        
          Sky diving was one of those things I always imagined happening way down the road......way, waaaayyy down the road. I would eventually do it of course, if for no other reason than to put my money where my mouth was after years of declaring that I had no fear of heights.
          Unexpectedly, my aunt got wind of my desire to jump out of a plane...and the rest was history. She not only encouraged me to do it, but also decided to come along for the adventure.
          So, on October 12 my aunt, my sister Caleigh, Ashley, and I all made the journey to the Triangle Sky Diving Center in Louisburg, NC. It was a beautiful day (which completely ruled out the possibility of delay due to weather). Upon arrival, we were directed to a side room by a nice woman who explained the legal procedure.
          We basically signed our lives away.
          The wait was somewhat long since we had gotten there early. We were allowed to go into the adjacent hanger in the meantime. Amazingly, I felt very relaxed about the whole thing; this was even in spite of the fact that one of the people who went before us broke his ankle (you are supposed to lift your legs when landing so that the instructor's feet hit first...that guy didn't).
          Our group was made up of all girls (excluding my uncle who was patiently waiting for us), so we chit-chatted and took pictures in some glittery fairy wings that Ashley had brought.

Wishful thinking :)

We even joked about jumping out of a plane and, in a few seconds, getting to see Jesus in heaven. Ashley said that she would love to get something broken because it would become a great story:
         "How'd you break your leg?"
         "Oh, this? It happened while I was sky diving last week."         
       

         My mother was unappreciative of those comments.
         After the wait, the instructors who we would be jumping with came in to suit us up. They gave us a 5 minute lecture that went so fast I barely heard what was said. I was thankful that everyone repeated the instructions multiple times on the ground and in the air so that when it came time to dive it was basically ingrained into my memory. All the gear was double and triple checked (which was reassuring) and then we were off!

Caleigh getting double checked

          The seats of the plane were parallel to the windows, so we had to straddle them. I was in the back near the cockpit (the hatch was at the tail-end of the plane). My aunt was up front with her instructors, Ashley was second, and Caleigh was seated across from me. Both my aunt and Ashley decided to get their dive filmed, so they both had professional photographers with them.
          As we took off, I had the epiphany that I was more relaxed at the thought of jumping out of an airplane at 13,500 feet than I was before performing a recital or giving a speech. For some strange reason, that thought encouraged me.
          We were not in the plane long, but I enjoyed the ride anyway. At a certain point, we were so high that it stopped registering that I was looking at the ground from over 2 miles away. It seemed like I could simply step out and touch the earth in a few feet. 
          After the plane leveled out, the man closest to the door lifted the hatch and was gone before I could blink. Wind was rushing into the cabin and the temperature dropped. My aunt and her team were out in a few seconds. The instructor that was strapped to my back was speaking into my ear reminding me to breath. A few more seconds and Ashley was out and dropping fast.
          My turn. I don't think I could have backed out even if I had wanted to at that point. We shuffled to the opening and I went down my left knee. The instructor scooted us to the very edge.
          He was yelling into my ear again: "Ready!" We rocked forward and back. "Set!" We rocked again. "Arch!" 
          Wind. Lots and lots of wind. The adrenaline was pumping, my hands were freezing, my goggles felt loose...and it felt like I was being held up by a gigantic fan. There was absolutely no sensation of falling. None. Not even a stomach-in-your-throat feeling.
          60 seconds later, the instructor tapped me on the shoulder to let me know that he was about to deploy the parachute. There was a jerk and suddenly we were floating.
          The clear October sky was a stunning backdrop to the brownish earth. My instructor told me I could remove my goggles so I got take in the view uninhibited. I was smitten.
          The instructor guided the chute down, taking us in several 360's in the process (he asked if I suffered from motion sickness first; I said "No").

          As we approached, he told me to lift my legs for 8 seconds as we landed. I managed for 2 seconds before realizing that I wouldn't be able to hold them up for that long. So I dropped them for 2 seconds (with my instructor screaming in my ear), and then finally lifted them again until we glided safely to the earth. 

Walking back to the hanger after a safe landing

          Everyone who had jumped landed safe, unharmed, and completely exhilarated! We all wanted to immediately go again!
          If there was one thing I could tell people about sky diving, it would be that the preliminary trepidation is worse than the action itself...but at the same time, the experience would not have been as exciting without the pre-dive nerves to get the adrenaline pumping. A strange paradox to say the least, but it was worth experiencing none the less.
          All in all, sky diving was by far one of the coolest things I have ever done. Even though I am happy to have it checked off my Knot List, I'm already trying to figure out when I can go again :)
         

The England Journal-Day 3-Part 2-Central London

The National Portrait Gallery

Journal Entry 5
December 15, 2011-10:39 PM-London Time


          We made it back around 9:30 after spending all day in Central London. 
          The alarm went off at around 8:15 this morning, but I was the only one who heard it and I immediately turned it off and went back to bed thinking, "I took a shower last night so Pearl or Nicole will probably get up." The next time I looked at the clock, it was 9 AM, so I finally woke the others up.

          The first night at the Clink was actually not that bad. We were so exhausted that we slept fast and hard and were only woken by drunken people in the hall once or twice (this made us exceedingly happy that we had opted for the 3 person private room rather than the dorm style room).
          We got a late start the morning of the 15th, but we managed to make it to the continental breakfast downstairs in the hostel kitchen. My stomach got a little queasy because I was still getting used to the London water, but I felt better by lunch time.
          We met Dr. M at the the National Portrait Gallery, which was our first official stop on our London tour, and had lunch at the cafe there (which I must say that the pre-packaged sandwiches are incredible England). I loved both the National Portrait Gallery and the National Gallery next door. I saw the portraits of some of my favorite authors, actors, and political figures and that is only scratching the surface. The paintings by Claude Monet that the National Gallery had on display completely blew me away. Monet is my favorite artist and to see so many of his works in a single room was overwhelming. I have a print of the "The Waterlily Pond" in my room and to see the original was beyond description!
           Pearl and I also took pictures in Trafalgar Square while Nicole and Dr. M were in the National Gallery cafe. A very nice man saw me trying to pose Pearl and he offered to take our picture :) I was also able to view the Clock Tower (aka Big Ben) for the first time in Trafalgar Square.

 

My first view of Big Ben

          After our museum hopping, we decided to try to find the original Twinings Tea Shop so we could have afternoon tea. We thought we had the right address, but it was not long before we realized that the numbers on other side of the street were going by a complete different system. We trekked on in confusion until we finally caved and found a Starbuck's to figure out where the actual address was. It turned out that we would have had to walk the entire length of The Strand to get to the tea shop and by that time it was getting dark (the sun set at 4PM) and we were getting hungry. Before we started on our journey to find tea, we had decided to go to the The Sherlock Holmes Pub for dinner which was in the opposite direction we were heading not far from the Trafalgar Square. Our hunger won over our desire for tea and we made our way back to down The Strand.
          When we arrived at the Sherlock Holmes Pub, I for one was a little terrified. It seemed like a lovely establishment on the outside, but inside was so packed it was standing room only. There was no one to seat us, no one to take our orders, and no apparent place we could even order food if we wanted to. A nice man and woman finally scooted over so we could cram ourselves into a table with a bench. Pearl, Nicole, and I had to shove our backpacks in a corner so that they wouldn't be knocking into people. We found a menu with some amazing food  items listed, but it bewildered us that we didn't see anyone eating! Finally, one of us spotted some stairs across the room from where we were sitting. I was sent to investigate because we were sorely in need of a bathroom and I could get out of where we were seated the easiest. I dodged the people crowded around the bar, brushed accidentally against a few backs and who knows what else, and made my way up the steps as fast as I could without actually breaking into a sprint. Lo and behold, there was a restaurant upstairs that was blessedly empty yet open for business! I joyfully returned from my mission to inform the others and we gathered up our belongings and made our way as quickly as possible up the stairs.
          It was heavenly! To go from standing room only to a quiet, tranquil setting was one of the biggest sighs of relief I have experienced in my life! On top of the relief, right next to our table was a museum of sorts of all the famous objects and mementos connected with Sherlock Holmes. We loved peaking through the glass while we waited for our dinner. I ordered a small dinner of ham and cheese and vegetables, but Nicole let me taste some of her Yorkshire pudding.
          After dinner, Dr. M parted ways with us and made her way back to her hotel. We hung outside of Starbuck's to use the internet because we needed to check on some things regarding our itinerary. We were literally sitting on the sidewalk outside of Starbuck's using the internet until someone leaving the coffee shop looked at us and remarked, "It's ok if you don't buy anything; they won't care." So we found some empty seats and made ourselves comfortable while we finished researching. We actually did end up buying a drink to share when we left. When I went to pick up our order, the woman at the counter told me to, "Say hi to Obama." :)
          
            

The England Journal-Day 3-Part 1, The National Gallery and Retelling Day 2

Journal Entry 4
December 15, 2011-2:37 PM-London Time

          We are at the National Gallery right now and Dr. M stopped at the cafe to get some bottled water. We just finished with the Portrait Gallery. We saw the original miniature of Jane Austen that was done by her sister Cassandra. I gasped when I first saw it because we had been searching for it high and low and to have it suddenly before my eyes was stunning
          I want to go into more detail about the rest of yesterday and this morning, but I don't have time right now. I will write more later. 

          So now it begins. Once again, I apologize that my journal entries are out of order with the days, but I'll still try to go into as much detail as possible. Please rewind your mind to what I wrote in the previous blog post. We were just about to land at Gatwick Airport...

Journal Entry 5
10:39 PM-London Time

          Yesterday can really only be described in three words...
          Oh. My. Lands.
          We went from not sleeping on the plane to going through Immigration. The woman who stamped my passport was scary. She asked me all sorts of questions about my stay: how much money  had, who I was traveling with; I tried to be polite, but she made me really flustered. She looked like she was annoyed and didn't believe me when I said that I was on vacation instead of a school trip because I said I was a student and was traveling with a professor (she didn't believe that Dr. M was a friend :-/). 
          After we survived Immigration, we collected our luggage (all of it thankfully) and went to the train station. While we were standing on the platform, I was pulling out my Travel England book almost constantly to check street names and stations (since thankfully the book had a street-by-street map of London). We hit rush hour on the train from Gatwick to Victoria, so it was crowded and we had to move our luggage around a lot. I was tired and almost to the point of tears by that point because we were trying to figure out where to go next; whether to immediately pick up the London Passes we had purchased because we needed the Travelcard to use the Tube or to drop off our luggage first at the hostel or to got to Dr. M's hotel.
          Thankfully, Dr. M suggested that we sit down and have a nice cup of tea first. We dragged our luggage all through the inside and outside of Victoria Station looking for a tea shop. Dr. M asked one man where to find a nice place to get tea (he looked like Daniel Craig to me, only not as pretty and he was near a news stand smoking) and he directed us to a Starbuck's (unbeknownst to us first because he just said it was a nice place to have a cup of tea :). We settled on Starbuck's for tea even though they did not serve us in china cups and we finally got a lovely rest. We chatted for a while and I finally relaxed again (at least a little). 
          After tea, we bought day passes for the tube so we could get around. Dr. M purchased a 7-day pass because she didn't buy a London Pass (which we didn't know until we had actually gotten to London). Dr. M aptly suggested that we drop off our luggage before we go anywhere else around London.
          May I say that figuring out the London Streets and tube all on the same day with no sleep for the past two nights was an ordeal. The tube was crowded and we had all our luggage with us. I'll leave the rest to imagination...
          We took the tube from Victoria to King's Cross St. Pancras, which is the closest tube station to The Clink 78 hostel where we made reservations. The Clink 78 Youth Hostel, Islington, London After trying to figure out the roads from my travel book (ugh!), Dr. M went into a Travel Lodge  to get directions (Dr. M is never afraid to ask directions :)
          We finally arrived at the Clink exhausted from hauling everything around (the Clink has a steep flight of stairs up to the entrance) and I honestly don't know how Dr. Miller survived with a recent knee replacement. We dropped off our luggage at around noon, but we couldn't check-in yet. Dr. Miller got some better directions to get to the tube and us three girls plopped on the lobby couch in a fit of incoherent exhaustion. 
          More tomorrow, time for bed :)

          Just so I can keep some continuity with the order of days, I am going to go ahead and finish telling about our first day in London.

          ....we rested for a while in the lobby and got some bottled water from the vending machine (this was the first time I actually used British money to buy something, because Dr. M had bought our tea at Starbuck's earlier). I was so worn out by that point that I was shaking. 
          But we finally got up because it was about the time for Dr. Miller to check-in (if she was allowed early check-in). Pearl, Nicole, and I took turns carrying her luggage. It was about noon when we left the Clink for Dr. Miller's hotel on Sussex Gardens near Hyde Park...we didn't get there until 2:00. Someone had given Dr. M the wrong tube station, so we ended up at Hyde Park Corner flipping through my street-by-street map of London. I remember looking over the map and saying, 
          "We're on the wrong side."
           And Dr. M replying, "Of the street?"
           With me stating, "Of the park."
          We got back on the tube till we arrived at Lancaster Gate Tube Station. After taking the long way to the Alexandra Hotel we finally made it in one piece, even more tired than before. 
          Dr. M checked-in and we went up to her room to use the toilet. She prayed for us before we left because we still had to travel to Charing Cross Road to pick up our London Passes. We got lost on our way back to Lancaster Gate station because we took a right when everyone had told us to take a left (in fact, if we had merely LOOKED left when we went right, the station would have been only 50 ft away :-/ ). Then when we arrived at Charing Cross station we figured out that Charing Cross station was not on Charing Cross Road. So we back tracked to Leicester Square station, which is actually ON Charing Cross Road, and asked people where 11a Charing Cross Road (the address of where we had to pick up the London Passes). The building turned out to be a kiosk in the middle of the road. We had to go down winding stairs to get to the place underground, but thankfully there was no one there but the woman at the desk. After completing our mission, we finally returned to the hostel without further incident. 
          I don't know how we managed it but we found a supermarket nearby and bought some soup and rolls for 5.38 pounds. We prepared the soup at the hostel in the kitchen (I must say we were very proud of ourselves) and then we went back to our room to prepare for bed. Pearl and I took a shower, I called my Mom to let her know we were alive, and then we were all in bed by 7:30 PM.

          Thank you for sticking it out and reading this long, excruciating description :) But I must say that if you think reading this post was long, living it was 10 times longer. In the next post I will actually tell you happened on day three :)

The Clink Hostel was actually a renovated Courthouse, so they still had a lot of the signs up :)

         
   

The England Journal-Day 2-The Forced March

          After coming back from England, it took me a while to be able to talk about our first day in London. I really enjoyed our flight there in spite of the lack of sleep, but every time I thought about the four of us tramping up and down the streets of London I would shudder. Nothing bad happened to us, not really anyway. But, as you will see, the term "bad" can be relative.

Journal Entry 2
December 14, 2011-3:20 AM-London Time

          Pearl and I can't sleep. We tried but it just hasn't worked. Dr. M and Nicole seem to be managing quite well falling asleep and, more importantly, staying asleep. I switched seats with Pearl not long ago, as soon as the seat belt light went off. I figured that if I wasn't getting much sleep in the window seat she might have better luck. But we both seem wide awake after we took turns going to the bathroom. Pearl is busy journaling to my left :)
          Not long after we took off, the pilot said that we have a strong tail wind, so we will land about an hour early. That leaves about another 3 hours to "sleep." 
          We are flying above the clouds right now and the moon is reflecting off of them making the mist appear milky white. The blanket of white beneath us contrasts with the clear night blackness. We can see the Big Dipper to the north. Pearl even said she saw a shooting star :)
          Earlier in our flight, I could not get over how vast the city lights extended. It looked as if I could merely step outside the plane and dip into a glittering pond. The cities are a work of art when viewed from above in the night sky. A web of shining lights lacing and interweaving against a velvet black. I wonder what it would be like to paint a picture or even design a dress using this night view as an inspiration. 
          I must say, though, that I was rather unimpressed the view of New York City. It looked like an enormous parking lot from 39,000 feet in the air. 
          I am going to try reading now...

Journal Entry 3
5:20 AM-London Time

          Well, they turned the cabin lights back on. Pearl and I still didn't get any sleep. I read a little from a Victoria Holt novel, but I was in an awkward sitting position so I only got through a few pages even though the story was good. Pearl and I turned out the lights a little after my attempt at reading and did some star gazing. She has seen 5 shooting stars, so she she let me lean over her so I could see one too. I finally did :)
         We tried sleeping again but we failed completely, so we finally ended up talking and trading stories at around 4:45. Pearl told stories from her time being a camp counselor at a special needs camp over the fall and it was good to hear since I haven't seen her since July. 
         The flight attendants are passing out danishes now. 

          After this, my journal entries get a little disjointed. We rushed around so much that it was hard recording what happened the day that it happened. My next journal entry is on the 15th and I talked about how we survived getting to where we needed to go. I'll save the actual journal entry for the next post, but I will got ahead and mention a few tidbits now.
          For future reference, in case you are traveling in a foreign country, TAKE A TAXI FROM THE AIRPORT TO YOUR HOTEL!!! This was probably one of the biggest life lessons I learned during the first day in London. A taxi is worth every penny if it means avoiding rush hour in the Tube while you are dragging 50 lbs of luggage behind you (poor Nicole was the one with the 50 lbs, she said that at one point she considered just kicking her suit case into the street and laughing hysterically as it got ran over).
          The second life lesson I learned was that, in foreign countries, pedestrians to not have the right of way. Thankfully I nor any of my companions got ran over in the midst of learning this fact, but I did once have a double decker bus come whizzing by less than 3 ft away from my shoulder.
          All in all, the first official day of our trip became something we will definitely remember for the rest of our lives. Even though I was numb at the end of the day from going almost 48 hours without sleep and forcing myself to keep walking even though all I wanted to do was cuddle up in some abandoned corner and cry, I was very proud of us that we had made it (and we even survived in the process). Thankfully we were able to laugh about it (a little) by the 4th or 5th day into our trip.

The England Journal-Day 1

          I am right now sitting on the family room couch in my pajamas (which I haven't taken off all day), snuggled in a blanket with the cat sleeping peacefully next to me. Today was the official start of spring break, hence why I have indulged in the pajamas all day. As you can guess, since I have managed to have an entire day to my self doing all the odd jobs on my "I'll do it over spring break list," it finally hit me that posting about England would probably be a good thing to do while I have the time and was feeling motivated.
           To be honest, I am kind-of glad that I have waited this long to share about one of the major check marks on my Knot List. I have had 3 months to process everything that has happened and the bad things don't seem as bad while the good things have taken on a dream-like quality. I will be sharing from the journal that I kept while I was on the trip (a gift from wonderful Nicole) and I will also be sharing some memories that I didn't put in journal (mostly because of laziness, not because the memories were not meaningful).

My England journal and other things in my very crowded lap on the plane

Journal Entry 1
December 13, 2011- 6:08 pm

          We are almost on our way! I am sitting next to Pearl right now in seat 24A, a window seat :) There is no one sitting in front of us so we opened the two windows closest to our seats. It's dark outside so all I can see are the airport lights with the airplanes shrouded in hazy shadows. 
          Dr. M and Nicole are sitting in the seats next ours with the isle in between. I can hear children talking to one another behind me about how this is their first flight and how excited they are :)
          Me, Pearl, and Nicole arrived at the airport at around 3:40 this afternoon. My Mom and Dad dropped us off  using Nicole's car, which is going to be parked at our house while we are in England. 
          The flight attendant over the PA  said that the type of plane we are on is an Airbus 3300 (or something like that). The engines are starting to hum louder and I can feel the floor vibrating slightly! I can't believe we are actually doing this! It is 6:21 right now so we will be taking off any minute. 
          We're moving.... :)

          Since this was only my second time out of the country, going through check-in required a lot of explanation from the people at the desk (who knew just swiping your passport could be so complicated). But I managed to get my bag checked without too much trauma involved. Security took a lot shorter than I thought it would (about 20 min when I was expecting an hour) and I had to get scanned by one of those new techy security devices. All in all, everything went very smoothly.
          We met Dr. M at the gate and it was wonderful to see her. It had been quite a while since all four of us had been together. She had been waiting there for  several hours because she had a friend drop her off early. She was still her gentle, soft spoken self in spite of having to wait for so long. Dr. M is the type of person who finds the positive and  makes friends no matter where she is (as you will see in future entries :)
          Nicole and I wanted to buy something to eat before we got on the plane, so we rushed around looking for food and still managed to get back before our plane started boarding. I wasn't sure at first if security would allow me to take a salad on the plane (though I don't know what could be dangerous about lettuce and tomatoes), so I asked a couple of guards at the gate if bringing food on the plane was permitted. One guard answered me with a straight face, "Only if you share." I laughed and held up my southwest salad to him. He let it pass :)
          Our gate was close to a German airline and I had fun listening to a lot of tall, blonde people speaking German. They all looked so sophisticated. Dr. M got into a conversation with a British woman about the Nazis bombing churches during WWII (I seriously did not make the connection between the German airline and Dr. M's historical conversation until now! I doubt she realized it either :)
          We were some of the last to board and I wouldn't have minded except that my bags were heavy. We got to our seats with relative ease (about as much as ease as you can get on a plane). I quickly ate my salad before the flight attendants could say anything about it and settled in for what I thought was a long flight to London Gatwick Airport.