I'm here!

So, I did it. I made it to my temporary, new home in one piece, and only 3 & a half hours later than schedule.

My trip started off with my Mom & Scott dropping me off at the airport, a quick stop for gum & silly bands (Moms, be expecting these to be coming to your youngins in the mail), & a lovely half an hour delay to Charlotte due to weather. & as a result of the lovely delay, I found myself (out of the kindness of my heart) allowing the other passengers on the plane to exit first so they could make their connections, & ultimately getting lost. I stopped at the customer service desk, stood in line behind a bunch of very angry people, & finally a relatively nice lady pointed me in the right direction (I wasn’t even in the right concourse…)

Ah, & here is where the real adventure started. My flight from Charlotte to London Gatwick. I got some food, bought my very first (& most likely, very last) cheap/trashy/poorly written romance novel, & took myself a seat at my gate & waited patiently for my flight. I had read half of the Scent of Jasmine by the time we boarded the plane, only a few minutes late, & I had finished the thing by the time the plane took off.

Okay, so that is much less dramatic & impressive than it seems. I got very bored with the antics of “Southern Belle yet still capable of lassoing a bucking bronco” Cay & her secretly ruggedly handsome, jasmine scented, accused murderer boyfriend (can’t even remember his name twelve hours later, if that says anything about the quality of this novel) & skipped the entire middle of the book to read the last few chapters & reflect on what a waste of my time the novel was – next time, I’m sticking with something with a little more substance. The House at Pooh Corner, for example.

Regardless, I still had time to finish the book, do a crossword or two, & take an hour & a half long nap before the plane took off. Why you ask? Because we sat in the plane for a good three hours after the initial departure time, waiting for them to clean ice off of it. Personally, I am a huge fan of making sure that we don’t crash & die, but my fellow passengers were restless & grouchy, so it was a bit of a rough take off when we finally did.

The rest of my flight was relatively uneventful. I colored some beautiful pictures of Rapunzel & Woody, did a few crossword puzzles, dominated at a word search, failed dismally at a logic puzzle, & watched Easy A. Twice. By the way, that movie is genius. Then upon landing, the paramedics rushed on to the plane searching for the sick passenger.

Oh, wait. Did I skip something?

Yes, we did in fact have ourselves a sick passenger on the eight hour flight from Charlotte to Gatwick. I was first alerted of this when an announcement interrupted my first viewing of Easy A. The announcement went something like this: “If there is a doctor, physician, or nurse on board, please report to the back of the aircraft immediately.” Oh. Well. That’s reassuring. Then, about four hours later (most likely during my second viewing of Easy A), I was interrupted by another announcement. “If there is a physician, a doctor, anyone on this plane, please report to the back of the aircraft immediately.” Well. That’s a little foreboding, isn’t it?

Suddenly, I was taken back to the House episode (I would dramatically quote the number, season, & title here if I could remember) in which House himself was called to the back, er, first class section of the aircraft… What was the problem then? Oh yes… A supposed outbreak of some very foreign, very contagious, very deadly disease. That’s very reassuring… Wait, just kidding! It’s just a silly scuba diver with the bends!

Fortunately, no one on this aircraft passed on their illness (imaginary or otherwise), or caused the plane to be dropped several thousand feet due to nitrogen bubbles expanding in their bloodstream.

Finally, we landed. & it was wonderful! I looked out the window. I saw the overcast skies and the rain soaked ground. & do you know what the first thought that entered my mind was? “This place is beautiful. I think I am going to be happy here.” I think that’s a good sign. & then I went through my photo album for the seventh time today, & looked at all of my beautiful friends, family, & little kiddos, & missed you all, but was still so excited to be here. I think that’s a good sign too.

I went through customs. It took forever. I got my bags (& carried all four of them by myself, heck yes). I hugged my aunt. I hugged my grandma. I got in the car. I clung to the door in terror & stomped on the imaginary passenger break many a time as we went through roundabout after roundabout at 90 miles per hour. I emailed my family. I drank some hot chocolate. I went to sleep. I woke up & drank some tea to try to become a proper British person. And here I am, writing you lovely people, a lovely blog.

I love you. I miss you. I am sorry this is so long. & if you read it, I hope you enjoyed it.

All my love,

Rachel