Today marks two weeks(and some hours) until we board our one way flight 4,000 miles across the country to Alaska.I'm sitting in a small, quiet library in Florida this morning. Okay, its somewhat quiet, ignoring the fact that a woman and her two daughters are self checking out 84 books(totally exaggerating) and the computer is repeatedly saying " scan the item you would like to checkout." Aside from that. And the whining 3 year old across the building. Okay, I'm sitting in a noisy library in Florida this morning.
I'm progressively getting so much more excited about Alaska as each day ends and a new begins. When I bought the plane tickets 5 weeks ago, it didn't exactly feel real, even though I had just spent a whopping $656 on tickets and the itinerary was in my face. My bank account said it was real for sure, oh my poor bank account... Maybe it's because it felt like such a huge deal, something so extraordinary and amazing that I couldn't believe it. Lately I've been having these brief moments, throughout the day, of "holy fucking shit I'm going to Alaska!? Alaska?? Alaska???" I don't even know what's in Alaska, aside from one-hundred and thirty million acres of forest, a lot of moose, a lot of sunlight during summer and none during the winter, and so, so much snow. I've never been in Alaska or near Alaska(Unless Seattle counts for being near?)
I wouldn't say I'm a well traveled person, but I've done far more in my 25 years of life than I thought I'd ever do throughout my entire life. I've traveled to 17 different states, driven thousands upon thousands of miles when I had my little 2010 Kia Optima. I've backpacked through the PNW and Yellowstone National Park. I've visited 3 national parks. I've hiked down to Plateau Point in the Grand Canyon. I've lived through polar vortexes in southern Montana and the heat of the desert in Nevada in July. Coming from someone that was too socially awkward to even attend school or leave their room as a kid/teenager, that's an absolute fuck load of kicking through the door of my own comfort zone.
Then I met my husband, Shaun, two years ago. He was 28, I had just turned 23. We worked together at a Waffle House(for those of you that are too far north or west, that's a shitty little breakfast diner that robs you of your happiness and drains your soul if you work there.) Was that unprofessional of me? We immediately disliked each other, but grew to like each other in a few short months. We married in April of 2018(I guess that means we grew to really like each other, ay?) It was a rough first year, but we're turning over the page to a better chapter and we're both looking forward to what we will accomplish in the future, as individuals, and as a couple.
~Angel
