The Aftermath: Part 1

Alright it’s been awhile. I’ve been putting off writing this blog because I wanted to wait until I was back on the right path and not embarrassed to talk about my life. I know, I know, I just explored the world for 6 months with HBF. How could I possibly be embarrassed? I literally just did what 90% of the population dreams of doing.. But there’s The Aftermath. I knew the day would come when we would return home and have to integrate myself back into the daily grind, i.e. working, cooking, cleaning, bathing on a daily basis, etc. That day was always soooo far away that I never really worried about it. Ok ok, I did worry about it, but HBF would always tell me, ‘No stress on holiday’ with some weird Russian/Eastern European accent and I would put off thinking about it for a week or so. Also, while in the Philippines, I did a phone interview with a company that I would not have minded working for and I had high hopes that I would have a job fairly soon. I wasn’t sure that I wanted a job (ever), but I knew that at some point I would (probably) need to get a job to carry my weight in the relationship. Everything seemed to be falling into place at the time. I was ready to go home, see the famdamily, then pick up where I left off before we left, albeit in a much happier and rested mindset. Well, things did not go according to (my) plan and I had somewhat of a hard time dealing with it. What follows is the story of The Aftermath, divided into parts because I think it’s too long.

I was beyond excited to go home. Like, tear my hair out dance on tables excited. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Philippines SO MUCH, but I hadn’t seen my mommy and daddy in 6 months and I was dying for some family time (it’s a sickness). 6 months was the longest I had gone without seeing a family member ever in my entire life . I was also soooo excited to see Midas. I had a mild fear that he wouldn’t remember me, but I still couldn’t wait to see my lil lion dog. But first, there was a mission to accomplish, Mission Impossible, according to HBF, but I had faith. El Dub reeeeeaaally wanted a ‘Rolex’, but the last one I mailed home got stolen right out of the mail. Thank you Bankok postal service for that. I forced HBF to book flights home that went through Hong Kong so we could go find El Dub another watch. The layover in Hong Kong was 4 hours, but we had to:
• Deplane
• Go through Customs (Our bags were checked through all the way to USA)
• Get on a train to Kowloon
• Find the guy who sold us the first watch
• Talk him down to the price we paid last time
• Get back on the train to the airport
• Get through airport security
• Be at our gate at least 30 minutes before the plane left since it was an international flight

Now, I had no doubts that my plan would work, but HBF had some reservations. It took some coaxing as well as a thought out timeline of ‘turn back’ time (if we hadn’t reached a certain step by such and such time, we turn back) until he finally agreed we may be able to do it. We power walked everywhere, and it took awhile to find the right guy, but in the end, we got the watch and we got back to our plane. Mission Impossible = Mission Accomplished! I knew El Dub would be so happy and I was happy to drag HBF along in order to make a wish come true.

The flights to the US were seamless and even enjoyable. I think I slept for like 20 hours and felt pretty good by the time we were deplaning in San Francisco around 8:00 am. It was our last leg left until I could reunite with M dog and the fam. My excitement was palpable. That is, until the flight that would take us to Portland was canceled. Enter hysterical tears. We were so close, but so far away. They automatically rebooked us on a flight the next day, but I was not about to stay in SF when I could find a way to make it to Portland. At this point, it’s 10 am and I’m thinking there has to be a flight to Portland that we could catch that day. Unfortunately, everyone else that was booked on the plane had that thought as well. We found an airline representative that was moved by our story of no sleep, international travel and my yearning to see my family (I was not ashamed to use my tears to gain some sort of advantage) and she was able to book us on a flight at 5:00 pm. Ok, so we now have 7 hours to kill at SFO, but HBF has no sweatshirt, no pants either, and he’s wearing flips. For some reason, SFO had the air conditioning on full blast and it was like 40 degrees in the airport. He’s cold. And for HBF to admit he’s cold then he reeeaally must be cold. So, we started shopping around for a sweatshirt that he could possibly wear. The problem was, we just got back from Asia where everything is like $2 and under. These sweatshirts were at least $35 and HBF was balking at the idea of spending that kind of money so soon out of the land of cheap things. We were not able to find a sweatshirt for $2, so HBF did not buy a sweatshirt. He huddled close to me instead and continually muttered about how expensive things were. At 8 pm (our flight was delayed, of course) we boarded the plane for home with our sanity barely intact and HBF’s lips looking a little blue.

The welcoming party at PDX was just as I pictured: My parents plus a sign that said ‘Welcome Home’ greeted us as we exited the terminal. It was such a happy reunion and so great to see my parents! All the bad feelings were washed away with hugs and I was filled with glee at finally being home and relief as well. Midas remembered us and marked our return with lots of bunny hopping and whining (as is his custom when he is excited). I was home. I took a long hot shower and fell into the softest bed I had been in since leaving home 6 months prior. It was heaven.

Part 2 to come soon.