Weekend Updates

Two weekends ago, Welchy came to visit. She's always wanted to see the Grand Canyon so we took a road trip up north to see it. It's still there. It's still big. It's still beautiful. If anyone wants to see the Grand Canyon in person, come visit me in the next few months and I'll show it to you. A tiny bit of it looks like this:




Just be careful you don't fall in!










Last weekend, my Bible study girls went on a road trip to San Diego. Overall, it was a blast. Lots of laughs and good times with great friends.


The house was beautiful and the view was not too shabby either.


That's the Pacific in the background. It kind of blends in with the morning sky. There were a few hiccups during the trip. Fifteen girls with two working toilets and no hot water. It's a good thing we all like each other and are okay with not taking showers for a weekend. Oh, and did I mention my car's transmission decided to crap out on me...in the middle of an uphill intersection?

Here's my long, sad car story: My car was the last to arrive, around 1:30 Saturday morning. I got up at 7 to go to the San Diego airport to pick up two of our friends who were flying in for the weekend. I figured I would grab coffee and breakfast on my way. At the first stop sign, I noticed my car wasn't accelerating very fast and my RMPs were way higher than normal. But everything was fine once it shifted into second gear. I called my dad, my go-to car question person. At one point he asked "is that your car I'm hearing?" and I figured that was not a good sign. While he's on the phone with me, he starts looking up places I can take it. Then I get stopped at a light that's uphill. Two light cycles later (and some angry honks), I make it through the intersection to pull over in the last bit of shoulder available before a bridge. I'm not gonna lie: it was bad experience. I was alone. No one stopped to help or even ask if I was okay. My phone then randomly stopped working. That's when I started crying. For those of you who know me well, I hate to cry and don't do it very often. It was that bad. Dad came to the rescue by being able to get in touch with Saturn of San Diego, who in turn sent a tow truck for me (side note: apparently the term "wrecker" is not common outside Texas and I had more than one person be puzzled by me saying it). Two of the girls came to pick me up. We figured out we had exactly enough seats in the other cars to get everyone home. It could have been worse. It could have happened the night before driving to SD in the dark. It could have happened driving back to Phoenix in the middle of the desert. It would have been great if it had happened in three months when I have a real job and a real salary. But it happened like it happened. I made it home safely. I'm driving a tiny little rental car. My transmission is currently in pieces on the work bench. I have a one-way flight with my awesome friend Jen to SD on Saturday (which possibly may get delayed if little Phoebe is not put back together by then). I was surrounded by very supportive people the entire weekend. But, yeah, it totally stinks. I took the picture from the front porch as I was leaving for the airport, that fateful morn. The first thing out of my mouth once I got in Kathy's car and my Saturn was being towed away was "shoot! I forgot to take a picture of my car being towed!" What can I say, I'm my father's child! Life happens. Sometimes it's just not as fun as others.