Same Love

I Hate Pie

I hate pie. I always have. Yes, I may eat it because you made it and you swear it doesn't taste like cheesecake. It always does.

So, when you are saying sorry for crashing my car, that you didn't have permission to drive, NEVER buy me a pie and think that counts as a sorry. Because it doesn't. It pisses me off more because I hate pie and it just shows that you don't care about my car or about what I actually like.

Why the anger? Let me go back to give you a full picture.

We went to Seattle for Christmas. We needed a ride to the airport. Nate's family lives in Orem, and since all my friends were out of town, we had someone in his family drive us (in our car) to the airport. It's a weird custom his family has, this drive someone else's car thing, but that's not even the issue.

Before we went to the airport, I had a bad feeling about the car. I told Nate about the bad feeling and how I wasn't comfortable with his family driving our car while we were gone. He doesn't believe in bad feelings. He reassured me multiple times that no one would drive the car. But after my persistance, he told me that we would take my car so that his family would know not to drive it. I said "Fine, but only your mom can drive it". The deal was set and 5 minutes before his mom was supposed to take us she said "I've been dizzy all day, so [Nate's sister] is going to take you". I gripped Nate's hand tightly and he said "What can we do?" and I said "Nothing". She drove us to the airport and I prayed and prayed she would make it home safely. She did.

Through out the next couple of days, I continued to have bad feelings. I nagged and nagged Nate to call and make sure no one was driving the car. He ignored it. On Christmas, when he called home, I made him ask if anyone was driving the car. His mom said "Nope, it's sitting outside, waiting for you to get back". I got the "I told you so look" and I finally trusted my husband.

The next day I had a very serious voicemail from my father-in-law asking me to call him back. I did, and was informed that my sister-in-law, had taken my car to go sledding because her car was in the shop. My father-in-law had recommended she take my car because she "was a good driver" (he repeated that about 6 times throughout the phone call). She had got in a fender bender, freaked out and called him. Minimal damage. Then when driving away from the fender bender, slid through a stop sign and wrecked my car, causing $1000 less than the total value of the car. She is willing to pay our deductible, Nate's dad said.

I flipped.

To add more salt to the wound. The day after we took my car to the shop, Nate's car wouldn't start. So we had to drive his parent's car until it was done. Well, because we couldn't wait a week for the part, they had to buy another one for double the price, all so that we could have a car. The total cost of his car was the exact amount of the budget we had set to go to Vegas for my birthday. "Small inconveniences".

The anger? It's not about a car. It's about trust. Trust in Nate's family and ultimately trust in Nate. I'm not a trusting person to begin with, and this just reaffirmed the fact I hate and don't trust people. I like to talk through things. I like to beat dead horses. But Nate's family doesn't. This has been swept under the rug, like it never happened. And, while everyone else is moving on with their lives, I come home from work and crawl into bed. I sleep the days I have off, and I have extremely high blood pressure.

I'm going crazy.

Then tonight, when Nate told me his sister wanted to talk about it, she came over gave me a pie, said "I'm sorry" and "I hope this makes everything ok?" and "I'm really late" (she was on her way to work), and left. I was prepared to talk about it and get it off my chest. Sweep, sweep, sweep.

Puerto Rico

So everyone is still asking me " What did you do in Puerto Rico", but yet are unsatisfied by my answer. Maybe it's because I leave out a lot of details. Or maybe, just maybe my trip wasn't as exciting as it should have been, but after a wedding it was just what I needed. Let us begin. We were married on a Saturday. We spent the night at the Hyatt downtown Seattle. We took our time waking up, eating breakfast, and getting ready. We didn't have to be anywhere until 12:00. We went to my parents to open presents, but they didn't get the memo that 12:00 means 12:00 and not 2:00. So we didn't end up leaving to drive back to Utah until 4:00ish. We drove halfway and spotted overnight in Baker City, OR. On the drive the next day, I started having these incredibly strong urges to pee, but when I would go, nothing would come out. It eventually went away, and we continued our trip to Utah. We arrived home on Monday night, caught about 5 hours of sleep, and then tried desperately to make it to the airport on time for our 7 o'clock flight. We barely made it and thus began our honeymoon.

Nate gets motion sickness. I have never experienced being with someone who gets motion sick. We made it to Puerto Rico with only a few scares of Nate throwing up. Everyone clapped when we landed. I thought it was a Latin thing, this cheering, but apparently it's just a Puerto Rico thing. We got off the plane, saw some cops arresting gang-bangers, and made it to our hotel. It was beautiful. The weather was beautiful. And I hadn't been on a tropic vacation like this since High School. I laid out, Nate swan, and we had a really relaxing time. We ate at Denny's almost every meal.

Then I woke up, and was in extreme pain when I went to the bathroom (this is probably all too much information, but oh well). I had a raging UTI and I didn't know what to do. When I starting voiding blood I got worried. All of the clinics were in really shaddy parts of town. We decided to call the resort doctor. $150 later, we were on our way to the Walgreens down the street. The 1/2 mile seemed like 20, because I was so sick. When we got there and ordered the prescription, I had forgotten my ID, and just started crying. I began mumbling about how Nate was my husband (he had his ID with him) and how we just got married so we had different last names. Well, it worked and they just gave them to us. The medicine worked really well, but it turned my urine clown orange.

Nate's birthday was a few days after. Happy Birthday, I have to stay in bed and rest. I felt so bad for making him sit in a hotel room, that I pretended to be better and we walked to some old fortresses. I was fine for the first little bit. I was just trying to flush my fever away with water.

Then it started to get worse. It was hot, I was really sick, and I just wanted to sit down. I ended up making Nate see the rest of it without me while I sat on a bench and people watched.

Nate and I continued to walk through the city to find a McDonalds, because A. I love McDonalds, and B. I was getting really really sick.

We searched for an hour and couldn't find one, following the directions we had found on-line. I was in tears. We finally asked someone, who told us the McDonalds wasn't any where close, but directed us to a Quiznos. It saved my life. After eating and sitting in AC, I felt tons better. We continued walking to a movie theater. Somehow, we ended up in an abandoned part of the city. We were walking and talking and all of a sudden Nate stopped and yelled. He had stepped on a glass bottle top that went through his flip flop. It had cut a deep gash in his foot and there was blood every where. We had no choice but to keep walking. More blood came out with every footstep. I made him wash it off in a fountain we found. But he ending up stepping in standing mud water on his way back to the path. We tried to find a walgreens the internet told us was near by. But after 30 minutes of searching, we just went to the local drug store. We bought rubbing alcohol and bandaids and cleaned it right there on the streets of Puerto Rico. Happy Birthday Nate. Then we went to the movie as planned. We saw "Moonrise Kingdom". Then we went back to the hotel. I started feeling a lot better the next couple of days. Although, it was cloudy from then on out. We went to the beach almost everyday. Nate boogey (sp) boarded, and I watched from my towel.

It was fun and relaxing. I want to do it again, minus the UTI. Although I was glad to get back home, because I had left my house a mess and it was giving me stress. On the way home, we hit A TON of turbulence. No big deal, for me. Nate was sick as a dog. When we started landing and the seat belt sign was turned on, we hit the bumps. We were completely surrounding by horrible, crying children and no one spoke English. I Nate was about to lose his breakfast (we ate at McDonalds, but Puerto Rican McDonalds do not have egg mcmuffins, what's up with that), so I began frantically searching for a barf bag. There weren't any in our entire row. I was about to get up when we started landing landing. So, I told Nate to use his sweatshirt, which he did. Now, I'm a pretty good person when it comes to bodily functions, but there is something about a grown human throwing up that makes me completely nauseous. Nate throw up into his sweatshirt as I watched, and I started dry heaving into the isle. Luckily I didn't puke, but I was nausesous the rest of the day, and for the next 2 flights we had. But, alas, we made it home and began life as we know it. Nate started working the day after we got back because a co-worker needed someone to cover him. I was called in to start my new job the day after, and life has been the same. I get up at 7 and go to work until 5. Nate starts work at 2:30 and comes home at 11. We get to see each other for about 2 hours a day, if we are lucky. Hopefully this all ends when school starts!

06.09.12

It has taken way too long to get this up. But let me just say, we still don't have internet. I'm writing this from a laundry mat, because our washer still isn't working. (Gives you an idea of what we are going through). Anyways, let me start by asking a question. Does a wedding ever go exactly according to someone's plans? Honestly. I know weddings have bumps and mishaps, but does anyone ever look back at their wedding and think, "That was exactly what I wanted!". Because mine wasn't. Now saying that I know that I sound like an ungrateful, selfish B. And the more I brood over the whole thing the more I realize. I am an ungrateful, selfish B. Sorry family, but if you thought you were offended before, get ready to leave the church known as Whitney's blog. From the hair at my first reception to the flowers at my second one, everything seemed wrong. "That's because you just didn't care". This has been said to me, and yes to a certain point it is true. I didn't care about table cloth colors after 2 phone calls a day about it. When I said "I want navy blue table clothes with a off-white, lace runner", and then we couldn't find blue. White was fine. When I got a new job and my parents didn't ask me about it but rather asked about how we should set up the tables. I didn't care. When I said I didn't want flowers and then was told I had to had them. I said "ONLY white flowers". I told my mom I didn't want to tell her that I wanted hydrangeas because I did not want blue hydrangeas at my wedding. She said "Whitney, I promise you there will not be any blue hydrangeas at your wedding". And then there was blue hydrangeas in every centerpiece. I actually cared on that one. I didn't want a bouquet and was told I had to have one. I said I ONLY want white roses in my bouquet, and gave a picture of exactly what I wanted, and then had peonies and roses handed to me as I exited the temple, I couldn't care. Luckily the day of I was able to hold everything in and didn't really think about it. My brother Tate gave words of comfort. And I kept telling myself "this is what ____ wanted" or "it's making _____ happy". Like I said before, weddings aren't about the bride and groom. There was a lot that did go right though.

We were able to get married in the Temple.

Nate's family was able to come.

99% of my family was able to be there.

Some besties were able to come.

And, I married Nathan Burton Robinson.

No Soliciting

Getting married has made me realize some things. First, a wedding is NOT about you. "It's your day" or "Whatever you want" are completely false statements. The only thing I really have control over, is who I'm marrying (for which I'm totally grateful). Too many people become offended over other people's weddings. Between who to invite to the ceremony and what to have to eat, I'm sticking with my dream wedding idea of eloping, because then everyone would be offended so I wouldn't have to worry about what the diabetics who come to my dessert only reception are feeling. Second, I've learned I'm extremely prideful. I hate receiving advice. Let me clarify. If I ask for your opinion on a matter, than I want to hear what you have to say. I have had so many people give me their opinion on marriage, weddings, and what to do with my life, I find it completely ridiculous. Is your marriage that good? Was your wedding that great? Why should you be such an expert?! The final straw came last night at Nate's stake president interview. The first mistake was that the he didn't know if I was in the stake or not. After that loss of faith, he proceeded to give Nate and I advice and challenged us to do things we ALREADY do. Why am I so upset?! Because people don't know me and they assume I'm stupid. And we all know what assuming does. "You really need health insurance!" Really?! Because I knew that when I got my tonsils out when I was 5. "You're really lucky! Nate's a great guy." Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know that when I was dating him and decided that he was going to be the father of my children. "Don't go to bed angry is bad advice, just sleep on it and work out the problems when you're rested". We got this gem twice now. Are they mentally challenged? If I do not resolve whatever it is, I'm not going to sleep and Nate will. Then I will have 8 more hours to brood about it and become even more upset that Nate can forget about it and sleep and I can't. Lastly, I hate weddings. I always have, and I always will. I keep telling Nate the next time we get married we are going to do what I wanted to do originally and elope.

Senior Special

Nate and I went to IHOP today. This was the first IHOP I had ever been to that didn't smell like throw-up (considering I've only been in 2 in my entire life, this was a step in the right direction). I had a craving for breakfast foods, but I wasn't really hungry, so I wanted to order off the kids menu. I also wanted to order off it, because I wanted a "Grandslam" and Nate had to inform me multiple times that we weren't at Denny's. When our waitress came, she seemed really uneasy about me ordering off the kids menu. She began looking around the room, shifting her weight, and rubbing her forehead. I, trying to ease the situation and use some charm, stated that I wanted it for it's portion size. She stated, "Well, what do you want?". I stated "French toast and bacon". She said, "Well, you can get the senior special" because it will get me what I want, at the portion size I want, and satisfy the "watching eye" (which she stated while continually scanning the ceiling). She also made comments how giving someone the senior special flies under the radar better than a kids menu. This may be true judging by the fact there were no kids in sight, and the average age of customers (minus Nate and I) was probably 60.

She gave me the plate stating "You need to be 55 to eat this" and walked away quickly. I said "I can be 55 today".

Seattle or Bust

Nate and I spent a few days in Seattle so Nate could meet the family.

I took Nate to my favorite restaurant.

My dad took some engagement photos.




We went to the temple to look at our sealing room.

It rained and snowed and delayed school.

I showed Nate downtown.

We went on a ferry so that Nate could prepare for a possible cruise/honeymoon.



Bonnie, my mom, and Katie threw me an amazing shower.

And we survived.