Well, we finally made it home. And what a journey it was! It all began with my best friend's Christmas Eve wedding...in Kansas, I might add...

After two successful flights, my husband and I arrived in Kansas City, Missouri, on Wednesday, December 23rd, the day before the wedding. There we relaxed in the hotel, watching movies and eating ice cream.  But a storm had been foretold which was making both of us nervous. So we decided to leave early the next day to arrive in Ogden, Kansas, the new home of my dear friend, two-and-a-half hours away.

We left around 8:30 a.m., swinging by to pick up our friend, army helicopter pilot, Doug. We then settled in for the rather uneventful drive. It looked as though the weather was holding off. But it did not hold off for long....

We arrived safely in Ogden (though the wind was blowing somethin fierce -- where's Toto?) and went about setting up the hall for the wedding. By the time we were done, the snow was falling the blizzard imminent. We hung out in a bookstore for a few hours before heading out to dinner -- all 15 of us who were attending the wedding -- and when we finished, Meredith, her sister and I juggled cheesecake and tiramasu while her fiance (also an army helicopter pilot) drove us safely back to the wedding site.

The storm continued to rage, but the wedding hall was warm and the bride and groom radiant. The ceremony was simple and beautiful -- conducted by the groom's father. Afterward we ate desserts and drank coffee, hot chocolate and sparkling grape juice. Ben (the groom), his brother and father played Christmas carols as a string quartet.  It was loveley and beautiful and as I hugged my best friend goodbye until I-don't-know-when, I was comforted by the fact that she was (and is) so happy.

Then, we had to face the storm. Army pilot Doug took the wheel once more, his flying instincts taking over as he guided us through the gale-force winds and swirling snow. The two-and-a-half hour drive stretched to three and a half. Car upon car was skidded into a snowbank. Tractor trailers flew by without warning, sending billowing clouds of snow into our windshield. We silently prayed for safety and also said a quiet thanks that we had upgraded upon our arrival to a car with all-wheel drive.

We made it back safely so we could sleep for an hour-and-a-half before headinig back to the airport for our 6 a.m. flight. After the fiasco that was our attempt to return our rental car (nothing was plowed; we got stuck once and realized it was impossible to get into the car rental place. We had to leave it with security in the shuttle terminal), we arrived at the airport on-time and felt ready to go. Our flight was not canceled or delayed, despite the weather. We would make it back to PA by noon.

Or so we thought.

The weather, though not enough to hold the plane, was integral in hindering our progress. Somehow the airline stewardesses could not get to the airport in time and we could not leave without them. More than 45 minutes after our plane was scheduled to depart, the last stewardess arrived and we began to board the plane. However, the weather was not finished yet. We were scheduled to de-ice the plane...unfortunately, one part of the plane had to be replaced b/c it was frozen. Then, after de-icing, we couldn't go to our runway because the snowplow was frozen to it. We had to wait for them to plow another runway. We finally took off an hour-and-a-half late and we began to pray that our connecting flight would be delayed...

It was not. We arrived in Detroit, Michigan, ten minutes after our connecting flight left. We would not be in Harrisburg by noon. And our only option was this: stay in Detroit on Christmas Day until the next available flight...at 6:30 p.m.

After several phone calls and a few tears from me, we made peace with the fact that we would spend Christmas in Detroit. We ate at a restaurant called Max and Erma's, which was pretty good (but certainly not Christmas dinner); we walked the fairly large terminal and finally sat down and wondered what on earth to do for the next six hours.

Then, Netflix saved us. We had to pay $8 to use the internet (stupid Detroit airport!), but it was well worth it. We tapped into our instant play and watched the first season of "The Office" all over again. People stared as we laughed out-loud (they couldn't hear; we were using my ipod headphones); we didn't care.  We snuggled in together in the middle of the airport and enjoyed eachother's company.  Our 6:30 flight left on time and we made it to my sister's (no snow in PA!  Just rain) by 9:00.  My whole family was there and we gave presents, unwrapped presents, ate warmed-up Christmas dinner leftovers and gave in to dessert. Finally, we collapsed onto an air mattress in front of their fireplace (with a nice, crackling fire) and fell into a deep, contented sleep. It was the strangest Christmas I have ever experienced...but in the end, I was with Jonathan and he was the best present I could have asked for.

The next few days were a blur of visiting family and friends. My best friend from high school is getting married in August, so I went with her and her familiy to look at wedding dresses. We stayed with my other sister and spent wonderful hours with my niece and nephew. It was a whirlwind of fun and craziness; after stopping to see my grandmother in New Jersey, Jonathan and I arrived safely home on the evening of Tuesday, Decebmer 29th, almost one full week after the beginning of our exciting adventure.

We have spent (and will spend) these remaining days in peace and quiet, enjoying the snow and each other and the quiet of an empty dorm. 

Happy Christmas, All!  And Happy New Year!

Ok, I don't know how many of you out there still check xanga, but since I can also post this on facebook, I'm hoping for some responses. 

I just finished my grad school work for the semester (woo-hoo!) and aside from reading and critiquing the work of my cohorts, I am "free" to write...well, whatever.  I'm just having a hard time focusing.

So, here's the deal.  I'm going to give you a few ideas I've been toying with.  What I would like is for you to weigh in with your marvelous opinion on what sounds like something you'd like to read.  If it all sounds lousy, feel free to tell me so.    Thanks !

1. "The Wanderlands" -- Plot: A girl gets into a car accident with her friends and wakes up in another world. While her physical body remains in a coma, her soul must fight the forces of good and evil to return to this earth.  Genre: Young Adult Fantasy Fiction 

2. "Wrath of Heaven" -- Plot: A fallen angel (aka: a demon) is sent to earth  to lure unsuspected souls to their deaths (and subsequently, hell).  She meets an unusual man one day who stirs in her something she thought she lost long ago -- a conscience. This story begs the question, can ANYONE be saved?  Genre: Fantasy Fiction

3. "Marian" -- Plot: We've all heard the legends of Robin Hood and his Merry Men. We've even heard tales that include his love for a woman named Marian; but what do we know of her story? This is meant to be a new take on an old legend, from the perspective of the woman who won a hero's heart.  Genre: Fiction (borderline historical; borderline fantasy)

4. "The Vampire's Daughter" -- Plot: This is NOT Twilight.  (lol) In this world vampires aren't vegetarian and evil lives in all hearts -- the ones that beat AND the ones that don't. A college freshman learns that the blood of a vampire flows through her veins, throwing her headfirst into a battle she never wanted. Can she find a way to overcome the darkness that lives inside her and make peace with the evil that surrounds her on both sides? Genre: Young Adult Fantasy Fiction

Well, those are my ideas for now.  I've got a bucket full of others, but these have been most prevelant in my mind the past few months.  Looking forward to your opinions (if you don't like the fantasy genre, please refrain from mocking).   

Modcloth.com, my favorite new clothing website, is having a "Thank-a-Thon" Blog contest. Initially, this is why I was planning to dedicate a blog to thanking someone today.  However, as I think about the people in my life who I can thank -- my mother for her sacrifices, my father for his wisdom, my husband for his love, and oh so many more -- I realize there are people I never thanked, people I must thank, even though they will likely never see this blog and never know the difference they have made in my life.  I do not know their names.  I cannot recognize their faces.  Though they touched my hands and touched my life, I would not know them if they did so again. So thanking them here is the least I can do.

Less than a month after being born I was diagnosed with spinal menengitis, a disease that leaves many of its adult victims deaf, blind, mentally retarded, and often times, dead. How I contracted it is unknown, but I spent my first Christmas in the hospital, a tiny, already premature infant, fighting desperately to survive.  Fighting and losing.

I cannot imagine the devestation my mother felt; at 39 she had just suffered a miscarriage before becoming pregnant with me and now it seemed she would lose me too. She had three children at home who needed her to be "Mommy" though she so desperately wanted to be by my side every minute, watching over this fourth little life, protecting it the best she could. My father continued to go to work, to provide for his family, though every day experiencing pain.  They kept on going while every moment they wondered if I was slipping away.

And I was.  The doctors prepared my parents for the worst.  More than once they were called to the hospital and told, "This is it. It's time to say goodbye."  My parents drove through a blizzard to watch their youngest daughter die.

But I didn't die. While my parents struggled to bring normal lives to my siblings, while family and friends gathered to pray for a miracle, a miracle happened.  I survived. Unexpectedly. Inexplicably. I lived.

I have thanked God countless times to be living, to be breathing, to be "normal."  I am not deaf. I am not blind. My mental capacities function fully and I am currently in graduate school to become a writer.  Yes, God worked a miracle to remind me that each moment is precious, that it is amazing I am even here at all.

But there are those God worked through in order for me to live, and those are the ones I need to thank today.  When my parents were unable to be by my side, I know that nurses held me, sang to me, touched my hand and cared for me. Where others would have given up and said, "it's too hard, it can't be done; she can't possibly survive," there were doctors who fought long and hard to keep me alive.  I bear the surgical scars on my stomach, my leg and my arm; marks that the doctors left etched in my skin in order to save my life.  And I am grateful for them.

Modcloth, I know that you can't give a gift card to those unknown doctors and nurses at Cooper University Hospital in Camden, N.J. But this blog isn't about gift cards or Christmas clothing anymore.  It's about realizing that I owe my life to people I will probably never meet, but for whom I will always, ALWAYS, be grateful.  And thank you for giving me the opportunity to remember that.

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