Salt Lake to New York

(John in his Parisian courtyard on a summer eve)

This day of Wednesday I give thanks for Google chat.

It has done a lot for our little relationship.

(John began a Google chat journal for us - I really do love it)

John and I have spent a lot of time apart over the past year due to his schooling.

Time spent in Arizona, Paris, and Salt Lake totaled equal a total of FOUR months apart.

That's a third of the year.

That's a lot.

I made John promise, I demanded, and partially threatened scary things if he didn't take me with him to wherever he has to go this year.

I really hope it worked because I'm ready to be around him every day of this next year.

I go home on Saturday.

I already feel sad about leaving parents, grandma, best friends, in-laws, mom's cooking, and the mountains. I've been spoiled by family and friends whilst in the valley of salt and smog. And the most horrible part of it all - I feel as if I haven't done anything for them! I hope they forgive me for taking advantage of all the good food and good company they've afforded me. John mentioned something very true of me when I come home - I turn into a teenager. This is good and bad. The bad - I lay around all day and let my Mom make dinner and do my laundry, and I give my Dad a hard time about his jokes and politics. The good - I make random crazy trips with Michelle to the middle of nowhere, I eat five meals a day,

I shop . . . a lot, and do errands with Mom.

Although I may act the part of the bratty teenager while at home,

I really have this urge to give my parents the world. I've heard this said about having your own little one, and I can't imagine how this feeling could increase (I might explode), but I really wish I had ability to fix or mend health issues and life stresses for my parents. Nothing is tragic has happened, things are the same as they were ten years ago. I just wish I could turn into a magic genie or Oprah and ask what three wishes they would like to let them know how much I love them. Instead I just force them to say "I love you" back whenever they leave the house, go to bed, or close a phone conversation.

There never seems to be enough time to do all that I want.

But with that said, I can't express how glad I am to go back home to John.

I feel like we haven't had a chance to really live with one another.

As if we were just married and I know very little about him.

Although, he may think differently about this.

He prides himself on thinking that he knows everything about me and can predict my behavior and thought processes.

And being a genius he does for the most part . . . it's my goal in life to surprise him.

I also miss this little guy, I hope he remembers me.