I don't know what to write about...
Whew... Glad that's over... I felt very very crappy bloggy.... ugh.... I fortunately have lots to write about. Not a lot to do. But today I would like to focus on how weird it is to go from Spanish to English. And basically my whole trip home from Mexico where I have been living for the last two years. It started normally. Monday morning I was to fly from Aguascalientes (a little city in Mexico (yes I know. it is called "hot waters" (its because there are hot springs nearby (I never got to go because I was a missionary) and because the water that is in the pipes is sometimes hot) the joke didn't get past me) well technically its a state (try figuring those parenthesis out)) to Dallas, then from Dallas to Denver. All was well because I was going to get home at about 12 pm. Cool. Well we got to the Aguascalientes airport where our plane was waiting for us. But had no intention to go to Dallas. Until like Thursday... I, unwilling to wait for 3 days decided it would be better to fly to Mexico City first where there were more flights. I told him and he informed me that there were NO flights from Mexico City to Denver so I would have to take another flight from Mexico City to LA then from LA to Denver. Ok whatever... Just let me go home. So I took the 30 minute flight from AGS to MC
I landed and walked out to the waiting gate to look for my LA plane that wasnt supposed to leave until 230 and found on the departure board the following: "Flight to Denver 930 - On time" and "Flight to Denver - 11am - On time" What the? CRAP. Well too late now. So I chilled in the Mexico City airport like a goober for 4 hours arguing with Elder Smith about which superstar athletes are not dirtbags. (Winners were: Drew Brees, Roger Federer, and Peyton Manning). Well finally I took the 4 hour flight to LA. Where I had so much trouble adjusting back to English. Seriously it is hard to convince Immigration that I am American when I cant talk to him in English...
"Please put your passport on the table." he said.
"Da me un momento! Se que mi pasaporte esta aquí pero no me acuerdo donde lo puse!" said I.
"What?"
"Crap! I'm americano! Hold on!"
"Would you please stand off to this side please?"
"AY CARAY NO! SOY AMERICANO SOY AMERICANO!"
Somehow, miraculously I got through to find out that my plane was already conveniently waiting for me in DC. Oh... awesome. Everyone else left me about a half hour later to Utah. Afterwards I learned that my ticket was stolen and we paid in cash. I had a bad story but somehow American Airlines believed me and put me in first class. I was sure I was going to sleep in the LAX airport but I was promised that the DC -> LA flight only took 5 hours. Oh thats all. No problem. Except that there is nothing as impatient as a missionary's mom who hasn't seen him in 2 years and was promised to see him at noon and it is currently 6 pm and his flight doesn't arrive to the LA airport until 1030.
My brother put it this way: "Nick, Stop torturing your mother and come home already."
I did get home though, at about 3 am. And am excited to get this blog up and running again. Well I'ma make me some enchiladas. Got to go for now.
Paz afuera hogares - put that into google translate. You'll like it. Just don't ever actually say it.
