This past weekend on our latest girl's trip to Flagstaff, we visited Macy's on Beaver Street. After a glowing recommendation from Joe of Joe's Real BBQ/Joe's Farm Grill/Liberty Market fame, I finally got around to trying the world-traveling coffee connoisseur's favorite stateside coffee shop. I must say, it exceeded my expectations! If you ever find yourself in Flagstaff, don't miss Macy's. Not only is the cappuccino top-notch, the food is pretty tasty too. I had the granola with yogurt and fresh strawberries and bananas, a half order of the vegetarian biscuits and gravy, and a Cappuccino Royale, served in a giant cup with the most perfect milk foam I have ever seen. As a fellow barista, I have to admit that it may be a while before I master the art of milk foam the way the experts at Macy's have!
We also saw our favorite band ever, Stampead. It would be a crime to write a blog about Flagstaff and not give props to their amazing music. However, nothing I could ever write would do justice to Katie's description of our latest Stampead experience. If that's not love, I don't know what is.
My super talented and smoking hot husband took it upon himself to make a full-fledged video montage of our time in Kauai in November. Besides the roosters, the best part of our honeymoon was that we actually got there- our flight was scheduled to leave at 8:15 a.m. And when did we wake up? 6:58. I believe the morning went something like this:
(My thought process waking up.) "Gee... THOR sure is rattling around in his cage early. And there are sure a LOT of cars on the road for 5:15 in the morning. Actually, what the crap am I doing awake this early with no alarm?"
(I sit straight up, wide awake, and look at the clock, which is staring defiantly back at me saying, "Nah nah, nah nah NAH, it's SIX FIFTY-EEEEIGHT! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!")
Me: "HOLY %&$*%@$#@$#@$#%&*%$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Cody (startled and ready to kill an intruder): "Whaa??? Who- where? What's going on?" (Looks at the clock) "HOLY %&$*%@$#@$#@$#%&*%$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
At which point I immediately burst into tears.
My poor mom called two minutes later: "Where are you, dear? You were supposed to be here at 6:30."
"WE JUST WOKE UUUUUUPPPP! WE'RE GOING TO MISS OUR HONEYMOON!!! WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME AT 6:30?!?!?!?" Because, clearly, when things like this go wrong, it is automatically Mom's fault. Oh, the joys of motherhood that I will have to look forward to one day- being yelled at by my kids when they are freaking out about something I had nothing to do with. (I love you Mom!)
We grabbed our suitcases and the dog and tossed them in the car, and I commenced to drive like a banshee to my parents house and made it there in a record 12.346 minutes. I was a basket case the whole way there, and Cody was on the phone with Hawaiian Airlines trying to let them know our situation. Apparently they weren't having it, which is such crap because what kind of customer service is that anyway? "You're not gonna make it" seemed to be their catch-phrase of the day.
At 7:30 we pulled up, and I was completely defeated and ready to throw in the towel when my mom opens the door, grabs the dog, throws him in the house- like, literally THROWS him- and shoves us back out the door and into the car. She was like, "We are getting you two on that plane if it's the last thing I do. Now let's go." Holy crap Mom, way to not take no for an answer!
7:45- we pulled up to the terminal and ran, luggage in tow, to the check-in counter. Apparently the same bitch- I mean, airline worker that Cody talked to on the phone was working the counter, because when her trusty sidekick walked up she was like, "These are the ones I was telling you about." (Um... RUDE! We're standing RIGHT HERE!) That was promptly followed by, "You're not gonna make it." Excuse me, but when did that become Hawaiian Airlines new ad campaign? And what the crap did she think we were doing anyway, lounging around at home reading the newspaper and drinking our morning coffee when we happened to notice that, oh, hey, maybe we should get to the airport soon, it's already SIX FIFTY-EIGHT?
Honestly.
"I can't guarantee that your bags will make it onto the plane, nor can I promise that they will make the transfer flight to Kauai once you land in Honolulu..." Just shut your mouth and give us our boarding passes, we still have to wait through security.
Well, I sobbed our way through security, thoroughly convinced that we were never going to make it (I shouldn't have let Hawaiian's merciless negativity get to me!), when we reached the front of the line and the security guy was so kind and encouraging, saying that we were just fine and had plenty of time to make it (ten minutes to take-off, I believe). By nothing less than an act of God, we made it onto that plane with better seats than we originally had reserved, and sat in shock the whole six hours there because HOW ARE WE ON THIS PLANE RIGHT NOW?
Call us paranoid, but we had no doubt that the entire plane knew that we were "those people" who they tried to tell "weren't gonna make it" because we had the crappiest service of all time and got a few dirty looks. But whatever. After a morning like that, we didn't care what anyone thought; after all, they didn't live through the EMOTIONAL TURMOIL OF WAKING UP AT SIX FIFTY-EIGHT or the ironclad determination of my mother to get us on that damn plane. And if our luggage wasn't there to greet us at the Kauai airport, we always had our cute matching Life is Good "Just Married" t-shirts that we hoped would score us lots of free stuff.
But, amazingly, in the five minutes it took to walk from our plane to the baggage area, our luggage had magically appeared, sitting in a nice, neat row, unscathed by the chaotic and traumatizing seven-hour trek from our apartment in Scottsdale to the baggage claim in Kauai. I defy anyone who dares challenge us with, "You're not gonna make it"! Screw you, Hawaiian Airlines nay-sayers! Next time we're flying Aloha!
The Codeman and I took THOR on a little trip to San Clemente to stay with our dear friends, Nate and Adria, and their one-year-old, Jude, i.e. THE-CUTEST-BABY-ON-THE-PLANET. We left on Friday afternoon and made the drive complete with a terrified dog curled up in my lap, eyes darting around, wild and alert, every time we passed a big rig. He is inexplicably terrified of those things.
Anyway, the weekend in pictures:
Taken at the Montage at Laguna Beach.
Family portrait.
Amber and me and our Asian dog.
THOR's first time seeing the ocean!
Apparently it was a little bright out for him. Someone needs some Doggles!
We were at a poverty party. I wish there were pictures of this apartment, because it was amazingly cute.
This is THE-CUTEST-BABY-ON-THE-PLANET... and THOR. They're tight like that.
"If you're nice I might give you this bone."
The gang.
I wish I had this view out of my house! They're so blessed.
Baby THOR wasn't feeling so hot on the long drive home.
Pretty sure that poor Little Man had a fever- he was like a fireball when I held him in my lap!
...Of course, the second we got home, he started running around in typical dog-on-crack style. Back to his old self in no time.
