A few years back, my sister got engaged. Soon after, she decided to wait and have her wedding until I was home from my year in Namibia and could attend.
I mean, how awesome is that?
But then time passed, and I decided that I would stay in Sand Land after my year was up, on the condition that I fly home in May for her wedding.
Please, I would not miss that.
So, 2 weeks ago I got on a plane to the USA. And then another plane. And then a few more.
No, really. I travelled for about 45 hours, from Long Beach to Windhoek to Johannesburg to London to New York to Chicago and finally to Minneapolis. But as soon as I saw my mom and my sister in the Minneapolis airport, after a flight cancellation and subsequent delay in O'Hare, my world tour of an itinerary felt well worth it.
Daww, how sentimental I am. I'm serious, though. Love those gals.
The great thing about a wedding is that it forces your whole family to be all together in a general area. So, although I was only in Minneapolis for just under a week, family kept trickling in to Minnesota, and I was able to see practically everyone by the time I left for the East Coast, where I have lived for 23 years of my life. Poof, there's dad. Poof, oldest sister, niece, brother-in-law. Aunt, uncle, cousin. More cousins.
So many of my favorites! All in one place!
As it is every time my family gets together, There was a lot of talking, a lot of eating. General hilarity ensued. Most conversations didn't make a hell of a lot of sense. It was magical.
Minneapolis is a great city-- not what most would expect from the state that considers Duluth a prime vacation spot. But in the summer, it's a seriously cool place for a wedding. Warm. Lots of things to do. Lots of choices. My cousin, the bride, and myself went out for Mexican the day before the wedding, and the list of tequilas they sold took up half a page of the menu. The font was not large. Like I said, choices.
Who knew there were that many types of tequila? More importantly, where are you keeping all of this tequila? Is there a separate storage room full of imported booze? That sounds very flammable.
I was similarly wowed when I went to the store to pick up taco seasoning (obviously a Mexican theme here). I stared at them. Original, Spicy, With Chillies, Fiesta, etc.
What the hell is Fiesta seasoning anyway? Does it come with a piñata?
"Why are there so many kinds?" I ask.
My mother responds offhand, "There's only one kind."
No, they all just look the same. And probably have the same ingredients. I obnoxiously start listing them off to prove my point. I don't think there was a point to my point either, other than WHY IS IT NECESSARY TO PRODUCE THAT MANY KINDS OF TACO SEASONING? That many kinds of medicine? Yes. Alternative options for lactose-free dairy? Grand. Taco seasoning? Well, no.
After the wedding, my mom and I drove back East to New Jersey, where I spent a few days seeing my other favorites that didn't make it to Minneapolis. The drive back was relaxed. Having a similar adventurous spirit to my own (perhaps where mine started in the first place), my mom was more than willing to get lost several times for the sake of walking on the beach of Lake Michigan or eating cheese curd in Wisconsin. All important things, as I'm sure you understand.
Sans my inexplicable aggression toward taco seasoning, my time at home (well, my original home, anyway) was much appreciated. There's something to be said for hanging out with people who have known you for the entirety of your life and whom you are no longer able to embarrass yourself around.
Upon my return to the airport, though, I was ready to get back to Namibia, eat some meat, and most importantly see Boyo.
That wouldn't come for yet another 45 hours or so, though, and a few (mis)adventures along the way. Which of course I will recount to you in the next blog, so you know what to do if you find yourself on a layover in London or nearly denied entry to Namibia.
Yeah, almost lost my cool on that last one there.
I mean, how awesome is that?
But then time passed, and I decided that I would stay in Sand Land after my year was up, on the condition that I fly home in May for her wedding.
Please, I would not miss that.
So, 2 weeks ago I got on a plane to the USA. And then another plane. And then a few more.
No, really. I travelled for about 45 hours, from Long Beach to Windhoek to Johannesburg to London to New York to Chicago and finally to Minneapolis. But as soon as I saw my mom and my sister in the Minneapolis airport, after a flight cancellation and subsequent delay in O'Hare, my world tour of an itinerary felt well worth it.
Daww, how sentimental I am. I'm serious, though. Love those gals.
The great thing about a wedding is that it forces your whole family to be all together in a general area. So, although I was only in Minneapolis for just under a week, family kept trickling in to Minnesota, and I was able to see practically everyone by the time I left for the East Coast, where I have lived for 23 years of my life. Poof, there's dad. Poof, oldest sister, niece, brother-in-law. Aunt, uncle, cousin. More cousins.
So many of my favorites! All in one place!
As it is every time my family gets together, There was a lot of talking, a lot of eating. General hilarity ensued. Most conversations didn't make a hell of a lot of sense. It was magical.
Minneapolis is a great city-- not what most would expect from the state that considers Duluth a prime vacation spot. But in the summer, it's a seriously cool place for a wedding. Warm. Lots of things to do. Lots of choices. My cousin, the bride, and myself went out for Mexican the day before the wedding, and the list of tequilas they sold took up half a page of the menu. The font was not large. Like I said, choices.
Who knew there were that many types of tequila? More importantly, where are you keeping all of this tequila? Is there a separate storage room full of imported booze? That sounds very flammable.
I was similarly wowed when I went to the store to pick up taco seasoning (obviously a Mexican theme here). I stared at them. Original, Spicy, With Chillies, Fiesta, etc.
What the hell is Fiesta seasoning anyway? Does it come with a piñata?
"Why are there so many kinds?" I ask.
My mother responds offhand, "There's only one kind."
No, they all just look the same. And probably have the same ingredients. I obnoxiously start listing them off to prove my point. I don't think there was a point to my point either, other than WHY IS IT NECESSARY TO PRODUCE THAT MANY KINDS OF TACO SEASONING? That many kinds of medicine? Yes. Alternative options for lactose-free dairy? Grand. Taco seasoning? Well, no.
After the wedding, my mom and I drove back East to New Jersey, where I spent a few days seeing my other favorites that didn't make it to Minneapolis. The drive back was relaxed. Having a similar adventurous spirit to my own (perhaps where mine started in the first place), my mom was more than willing to get lost several times for the sake of walking on the beach of Lake Michigan or eating cheese curd in Wisconsin. All important things, as I'm sure you understand.
Sans my inexplicable aggression toward taco seasoning, my time at home (well, my original home, anyway) was much appreciated. There's something to be said for hanging out with people who have known you for the entirety of your life and whom you are no longer able to embarrass yourself around.
Upon my return to the airport, though, I was ready to get back to Namibia, eat some meat, and most importantly see Boyo.
That wouldn't come for yet another 45 hours or so, though, and a few (mis)adventures along the way. Which of course I will recount to you in the next blog, so you know what to do if you find yourself on a layover in London or nearly denied entry to Namibia.
Yeah, almost lost my cool on that last one there.
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