My newest favorite...

It was a pretty hard goodbye... It was four in the morning, I had slept at the most 2.5 hours, and I was getting in the car to leave my parents at the Hotel Arts in Barcelona so that I could go on yet ANOTHER weekend adventure. Though I was guilty leaving a couple hours before they did, and I was sad to even say goodbye, there was one thing that was getting me through it... I was going to Florence.

A couple of weeks ago I went to Rome with some friends, and I absolutely loved it, therefore when I was trying to find a place to go for Spring Break, I couldn't resist going to Italy again. This time, however, rather than going to a huge city such as Rome, I decided to go to the quaint, quiet, peaceful city of Florence. Initially, being the loner that I like to be at times, I was planning on going on this three day adventure alone, but lucky for me, my dear friend Maggie asked if she could tag along. It turns out its much more fun with company.

Because we left at four in the morning, when our flight landed at about ten, all we wanted was a nice cozy bed and something to eat. We were greeted by a nice driver who took us to our hotel, then yet again at the the hotel by a sweet Italian man who, unfortunately, told us that our room would not be ready until one. Thank goodness that Daddy Rodes picked a nice hotel for me, because they then proceeded to offer us a breakfast spread and coffee in the lounge until our room was ready; we couldn't resist. So we enjoyed a nice, relaxed breakfast, and several pots of coffee until our room was ready, where we then took a nice long nap so that we would have adequate energy to go exploring.

After a nice rest, we went out to wander; my new favorite past time. We went to the main square, where we saw local artisans standing outside of Louis Vuitton and Cartier; we went to the market area where we saw all the tourist traps for "fake" quality Italian leather; and we then proceeded to get ourselves lost within in small cobble stone back streets on Florence, Italy. Everything about it was wonderful. The small artisan shops, the ancient bikes sitting unguarded by the wall, the pizzerias on every corner, and the beautiful Italian men. Most of all, however, were the Italian fashion boutiques, which truly got the best of me. I tried on and wanted everything, but knowing that this was a once in a life time chance to buy an Italian leather jacket, I bought only a select few items. Finally, it was time to head back to the hotel to enjoy a glass of wine and peanuts outside at the sidewalk café, then find a place for dinner.

Dinner was ok, though I wish we would have found a bistro rather than a tourist spot, and after sitting there for a couple of hours, talking, and complaining about the fact that bread in Italy doesn't have salt, we made our way back to the hotel, watched several episodes of Criminal minds, and called it a night.

Friday morning we woke up early, excited about the fact that the breakfast buffet was included at the hotel. After enjoying the beautiful spread, as well as some delicious coffee, we met our private tour guide in the lobby for a tour of historical Florence. She took us all the places that we never would have been able to get to alone. We went to the top of the tallest hotel to enjoy the incredible view, we went across the bridge to see the old neighborhoods, and then made it to the Churches, the outdoor sculpture museum, and finally to stand in the presence of Michelangelo's one of a kind David. It was an exhausting four hours of information overload, nevertheless, it truly made me capable of appreciating what all this city stood for besides a bunch of pasta, and the finest quality leather. With that being said, when the tour was over, we found a place that looked nice for lunch, where we enjoyed different pastas, then went back to the hotel for a much needed afternoon nap.

Though neither of us wanted to wake up, after sleeping for several hours, we wiped the sleep out of our eyes and made our way to the Picasso, Miró and Dalí exhibit across the street. Though I would prefer Page's art work over theirs any day, it was pretty cool to see the work of these incredible artists in person. Though its far from my taste, their talent was appreciated. We left the exhibit in search of a nice place to sit outside and maybe get a glass of wine, before going to dinner, however, stumbled upon yet another beautiful boutique that could not be resisted instead. After trying on many things several times, heart broken by the fact that we couldn't take the whole store home, we each landed upon a cute dress and decided it was time to go. We then went get wine at a very fun outdoor wine bar, then found a tiny local bistro for a wonderful dinner outside, in a small alley of Florence. It was like a movie. At one point three men walked up perfectly dressed, played us music on their violins and guitar, then guilted (is this a word) us out of our spare Euros... while at another, an older, homeless Italian man stood by our table, yelling at the sidewalk in Italian. It was truly an experience.

After dinner we had a tasty pastry spread in our hotel, and went to sleep.

Saturday, we woke up early to a nice buffet again, and met our next tour guide in the lobby. This day, however, it was not a history tour, but rather a personal shopping guide. I am not sure who she was expecting us to be, but she was definitely dressed to impress, wearing a Burberry jacket, Louis Vuitton scarf, and Gucci bag. Though impressed by her taste, these were not where I was interested in going, and chose instead the "Italian artisan tour." With her, we went on a tour of the best of the local artisan shops, which were hidden like treasures throughout the city. Though some were in the main square, some were tucked away in secret corners, and never would be found by a foreigner. Not only did she take us to her favorite secret spots, but she also took allowed us to avoid the "tourist prices" and spoke and bargained with the artists in Italian, helping us to get the best, and most reasonable prices. Thank goodness we had her. Not only did I love the shopping I was able to do, but what was equally as impressive and amazing was going in the back of the shop and watching them hand make the bags and jackets, or going into the local artists shop and watching him hand make the most beautiful mosaic landscapes. I was truly in heaven, yet again.

Clearly, after four hours of fun and excitement, we were exhausted, so we got a quick lunch across the street from our hotel, then habitually went back for an afternoon nap.

After sleeping for a while, we made our way back to the main square to purchase the local artists paintings that we had been eying for days, went to sweet bar for wine and cheese, then happily made our way to the restaurant we had excitedly made reservations at earlier in the weekend. Here, we had the best meal by far, and thoroughly enjoyed several hours of laughter. After dinner we made our way back to our hotel one last time, packed up our bags, and went to sleep in those comfy beds for a final night.



Though sad that we were either on a plane, or waiting out a long layover in Rome for the majority of Easter, rather than at home with our families, it was nice to have each other. And best of all, we were both equally excited to come to the conclusion that the next time we were on a plane, we would be going home.

Florence was wonderful, this whole experience has been wonderful, but I cannot wait to go back home.

How lucky I am.

I absolutely couldn't focus on anything; the anticipation of seeing my precious father and step mother for the first time in 3.5 months was more than I could handle. Wednesday night, at my good friend's birthday party, I could think of nothing other than the fact that they were currently crossing the ocean in route to see me. Even worse, Thursday I couldn't skip classes, therefore I had to sit through  hours of classes, knowing that they were waiting for me in a hotel a couple miles away. Absolutely awful.

After the longest day ever, I was finally free from school. Smiling ear to ear, and happier than I have been in months, flew out of Arcadia, and got a cab to The Hotel Arts. Apparently, my wonderful father and step mother had the same great idea as I did, and were planning to surprise me outside the hotel when I arrived. I, however, showed up early enough to beat them to the surprise, and made it to their hotel room door right as they were leaving to come await my arrival. That old familiar "CAROLINE," from Page, and "Punkin!" from my dad was truly music to my ears. The three of us embraced for a long long time, and honestly, I was a bit afraid that if I let go, I was going to lose them for months yet again.

"Just because things have changed, doesn't mean that anything is different."

The next hour was full of nothing but smiles, laughter, happiness, excitement, and all the wonderful things that I had expected. I am not going to lie, I was a bit nervous that things were going to be different when I saw them, I was afraid that I was going to have changed, they were going to have changed, or our relationships were going to have changed... but I was immediately reassured by the fact that 3.5 months later, it was as if I had seen them the day before. What a wonderful feeling.

After soaking up one another's presence for a bit, we set off to a tapas restaurant to eat dinner with my girls from the program. After hearing me talk about them constantly since the day I arrived, all of these girls were very excited about meeting the famous Daddy Rodes and Stepmother Page. They were hoping Rodes would bark at some strangers like I told them that he often does when very excited, or to hear Page's famous "CAROLINE," when I accidentally burp in public :) Not to my surprise, dinner was wonderful... and my parents and friends all loved each other. While my parents were impressed with the genuine friends that I have made in Spain, my new friends were impressed by the fact that my family was just as wonderful as I had described them to be. I was proud to introduce them all to each other.


After dinner, Page, my dad and myself headed back to The BEAUTIFUL Hotel Arts to get a good nights sleep in the apartment overlooking the water.  First good nights sleep in a big bed by myself in forever... it was greatly appreciated.

We woke up pretty late that first morning together, enjoyed the fact that we were still in each other's presence, enjoyed some peace and quiet on the Club level over looking the Mediterranean, and then Page and I went to the gym while Rodes played/read on his coolest new toy-- the newest Ipad.

The next part of the day consisted of walking down by the water and enjoyed not only the beaches, but also the AMAZING Barcelona weather, watching the men (similar to the ones at my gym who are stuck 30 years in the past, wearing little to no clothing in order to show off their muscles) working out on the open air "gym"/playground right in the middle of the beach and getting a bit lost. Finally, after Rodes complaining of being "light headed because we were starving him," we made our way to my favorite restaurant by the beach for a nice meal outside.

Having been re-energized by a wonderful meal, we made our way to Raval, and the Gothic neighborhood of Barcelona. It is funny that what I find so beautiful and interesting within the Old Neighborhoods' winding small streets, old Roman buildings, and roads so tiny that a car cannot pass, Page and my dad found a bit creepy, and weren't quite as fond of... this is still my favorite part of Barcelona, nonetheless... And finally, we found our way out of the maze of stone buildings onto the touristy road, where I PROMISED them that we could find a Starbucks. First, however, I led them to the Catalan market, where I could truly show them how awful Catalunya's eating habits are... by showing them exactly what I mean when I say that they use EVERY part of the animal for cooking and eating... don't waste ONE BIT. Their reaction was similar to mine the first time I saw it... horror and shock simultaneously.

The last adventure of the day was a trip to my apartment, so that they could truly witness how I have been living the past few months... though I think they were pleasantly surprised by my porch, and maybe my sitting room, they were a bit shocked to find that what I had said about my "kitchen/laundry room," my "shower," and my itty bitty bedroom and my pathetic excuse of a "closet" was all true... and lastly were pretty impressed when I opened the window to get my clothes off of the drying rack. It was pretty amusing to see their reactions to the life I am living... And finally, after having gathered enough clothing for the rest of the week, we set off to have a wonderful dinner at a restaurant on the beach, then called it a night and went to bed early. How nice it was to have a real, big shower, and a comfy-cozy bed....and to go to sleep knowing Page and dad were right down the hall.

Saturday began the same, with breakfast and exercise, however, the rest of the day was spent in the main part of the city, where my day-to-day routine is played out, rather than down by the beach. I showed them the architecture of Gaudi, Dalí and Muntaner, which Barcelona is so famous for... I showed them my precious school building, which Rodes especially found absolutely beautiful... and I took them to my daily lunch spot (my Barcelona Bread and Company), for a healthy, organic lunch... followed by a visit to "Happy Pills," perhaps one of my favorite spots in Spain. Page and I were in heaven.

After lunch, Rodes escaped the madness of a Saturday in the city and went back to the peaceful hotel to read and plan the rest of our week, while Page and I shopped, had a much needed and missed coffee date at Starbucks, before returning to the hotel as well. Tonight, we had room service in the room, before going to bed EXTRA early in order to wake up at 6:00 to catch our flight to Malaga.

Malaga, a small city on the coast of Southern Spain, was absolutely wonderful. Here, we stayed in an incredible resort, The Marabella Club, where we enjoyed 3 days of nothing but lounging by the pool, exercising, eating semi-decent food (I miss American food), enjoying the Spa, and exploring the wonderful towns of Marabella. I must admit, however, my favorite part of all was sitting in the hotel with the two of them, ordering coffee, and playing cards just as we would have at home... Page was competitive as ever, Rodes was outrageous as ever... and I was laughing, getting frustrated, and loving every minute of each... Or perhaps it was laying in bed with the two of them, and convincing them to watch Criminal Minds with me (my latest obsession)... resulting in both of them loving it almost as much as I do. Each of these moments were equally wonderful.

Wednesday came too soon, and it was time to catch an early flight back to Barcelona. Once in Barcelona we stopped by my apartment one last time to pack one of my enormous suitcases to send home with them, stopped in our final stores... and then went back to the hotel. We had a wonderful final dinner together, along with my good friend Maggie, went back to the hotel and all four watched one last episode of Criminal Minds, then went to bed early... anticipating the 4:15 wake up call, which also meant it was time to say goodbye.



Waking up that morning, I was extremely excited about my next adventure to Florence with my dear friend Maggie, however, my sadness due to the fact that I had to say goodbye yet again got the best of me, and I couldn't help but let out a few tears. An absolutely unforgettable week was over, and the act of saying goodbye again was just too sad. How lucky I am to have two people that I love so much, and who make saying goodbye so so hard...

In twenty days I will be home.. sitting on the couch with the pups, knowing that Page is in the kitchen painting, or working on her Yoga "homework," that Rodes is across the room from me hogging the remote, or complaining about the "trash" Callie and I are watching. Tommy will be hiding in the kitchen with Page, or maybe silently sitting in the den with us, rolling his eyes at dad... while Christina is telling stories about all the kids she is saving... I will be soaking it all in, loving every minute of it, and waiting for Alli and Tavarres to walk in, in order to make my life complete. What a lucky girl I am. I cannot wait.

Short and Sweet

Time is running down, and though I am thrilled, I am also beginning to realize just how wonderful this place is. While I was away in London, something happened here, and it has gone from an average city, to one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. The weather is perfect. There is no humidity like in Nashshville, and its not hot and sweaty either, instead its about 75 degrees everyday, and I can't remember the last time I saw a cloud in the sky. The people on the street seem to have gone through a metamorphosis as well. Though they still wear scarves, and there is an occasional winter coat seen on the street, they are happier, and the slightest bit more friendly (still nothing compared to the Southern sweetness that I'm used to, but its improvement). The restaurants have all put tables and chairs outside, the flower shops have added the most beautiful displays on the streets (I treated myself to one this afternoon), and all the parks are full of children with sun kissed cheeks and full of giggles and happiness. Not to worry, Nashville remains and will remain my favorite place in the world, however, this (and London) are a close tie for second.

As a result of this change in not only the climate, but the entire city as well, I made the decision not to go on the day trip offered by my program on Friday, but to have a beautiful day by myself instead. My friends were a bit confused as to why I would rather spend the day alone, than with all of them, however, I am used to this confusion, and really wasn't too worried about it. The thought of my first day alone in weeks was actually what was getting me through the long week of school work and being angry about the fact that one of my classmates went into my bag while I was on a field trip, and took 175 euros out of my wallet. Though angry, it is a part of life, therefore, I continued on with the week.

Friday morning, when my room mate woke up to go catch the bus, I instead got dressed and started my day with the gym - to make me feel a little better in a bathing suit for the first time in months. After the gym, I raced home to change, packed a bag, and headed to the lay on the Barcelona beach for the first time. It was nothing like what I expected. It was like an entire different city within the city of Barcelona.

I walked up to the beach with nothing in mind, but the Destin beaches that I am used to; I didn't know any different. The first thing I noticed, however, is that the sand was hard (the beaches are man made from the last Olympics in Barcelona), and that there was very little room for me to lay out. So I found a little bubble of space to call my own, lay my towel down, used my bag as a pillow (this is a prime spot for pick pockets), put my head phones in and closed my eyes... After a few minutes of relaxing and loving the feeling of the sun on my pale skin, I opened my eyes, only to find that the woman laying next to me was completely nude except for a tiny, black, lace thong. I was horrified. So I sat up, and truly looked around for the first time, and noticed that about 25% of the women were nude as well. Not only were they laying out nude, but they were playing football, playing in the water, and taking pictures nude as well. A bit different from the South of the US.

It was at this moment that I decided to people watch, as well as take pictures (whoops). I sat up, and infront of me was an elderly couple laying out in rather strange attire. As I continued to look around, I continued to notice. There were men walking around selling "cold beers, fanta, cold water," and women walking around offering to making yummy mojitos for whoever asked. As I was about to shut my eyes and try and take it all in and digest what all I was seeing, I felt a small warm hand on my back, and then someone asking "quiero un masaje, guapa?" (would you like a massage, beautiful?) By the sound of the voice I knew it was not a man, however, I was not expecting that this hand belonged one of the MANY small Asian women who wander the beaches offering $5 massages to whoever may want one.

The beach was full of so much more life than I have ever seen at a beach, and though it may not have been preferable, it was extremely entertaining. So entertaining that I actually lost track of time, and ended up frying most of the skin from my body... to a point that I haven't done since I was on Spring Break in 4th grade.

I didn't realize how burnt I was until I was walking toward the metro on my way home that afternoon. Several elderly women on the metro gave were giving me "shame-on-you" glances, while several teenage boys looked at my bright red arms and legs and began to chuckle... Though my face was the only part of my body that didn't get burnt (I have learned to put adequate protection on at least that much), I am pretty sure it was bright red out of both humiliation at the sight of myself, as well as anger at myself for being so irresponsible.

Consequently, the rest of the night Friday was spent lathering myself with lotion, wearing my pajamas to avoid any rubbing on my skin, and laying on the couch with some girls to distract myself from feeling the burn... and then Saturday was spent in long sleeves at Museums, while all my friends were enjoying there time together at the beach... Hopefully I learned my lesson. Though I would have preferred to have been at the beach, one of the three museums I visited for my history class was actually extremely interesting. It was the History Museum of the City of Barcelona. I was expecting to see a bunch of artifacts, bones, weapons, tools, etc... found within the city, however, it was an excavated portion of the Roman city that was Barcelona, before Spain took control of the Iberian Peninsula, it was SO cool. I am far from a history buff, however, having the chance to go beneath the city that exists today, and walk around in the city that existed thousands of years ago was actually very neat.

By Saturday night I was feeling a bit more lively, though not ready to go out yet, therefore my dear friend Maggie and myself went to a sweet little restaurant that just opened across from her apartment. Little did we know, the man who owns the place just moved back from Maggie's home town, therefore gave us free Champagne, and then invited us to the "lounge" after dinner for free desserts. It is nice to be American girls sometimes.

Sunday, as per usual, was a day full of nothing but laying around, doing homework, getting coffee, and eating. The best part about Sunday, however, is that it was the start to the week that my sweet dad and step mom come to visit me. Words can not describe how excited I am about not only seeing a familiar face, but also seeing two of my most favorite faces in the world.

Best. One. Yet.

From the moment I stepped off the plane on Thursday night, felt the crisp London air on my face, I got a feeling that this place was going to be something special. And then I heard that famous accent and my excitement only doubled. Unfortunately, we missed our bus to the airport and therefore had to beg our way onto the next bus, and didn't arrive in the city center until about 1:45 am. The bus dropped us off at the bus station, but being in a completely foreign place, we decided it would be best to take a cab to the hotel so as to avoid getting lost at 2 am. The cab was everything I imagined and more; everything I had seen in the movies. A small, old fashioned cab, with seats facing one another, and a kind driver with a wonderful accent. I was in heaven.

We arrived at the Sloan Club, the hotel that my grandparents kindly provided us for the weekend, at about 2:30. We had to ring a door bell to enter, and then were escorted to our English "flat;" an apartment in the Sloan Club Suites section. It was wonderful, old English. The floors creaked when we walked, the paintings on the walls were classics, the ceilings were low, and the closets were big; I felt as though I was truly living the old English way.  I slept wonderfully that first night in my English flat.

Friday morning we woke up early, anxious to discover all the hidden gems of London. As my friend, Maggie, and myself left our flat we discovered what the darkness had hidden from us the night before, we were placed right in the middle of Chelsea. I had heard about Chelsea, but you truly have to see it to believe its beauty. As we walked down the road we were literally speechless, both of us trying to do nothing more than take it all in. From the beautiful English cottages, to the finely dressed children racing by on their scooters, screaming in their precious English accent, I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself. So I just kept walking, and that is when it only got better; we came to the Chelsea shopping area, only a block from our apartment. Though entering the store would cause heartbreak over wanting everything that I couldn't have, it was simply enough just to see all of my favorite designers at once, in Chelsae, London. And for once, it was not only the accessories that I loved, the fashion that I saw here was unlike any that I have ever seen before.

Once we had recovered, we found a Starbucks (which finally tasted normal, the one in Barcelona is awful), and ventured down to the tube to meet up with our friends. I thought the Barcelona metro was an experience, but it is nothing compared to the London tube. It was tiny, crowded, and entirely to old to truly be safe. We went twice as fast as an metro I have yet to be on, and it honestly felt as though we were about to come unhinged and hit the walls. My eyes were closed and covered the whole time, until finally we reached the Picadilly Circus stop, which would take us to the Soho area. Here, we met our friends who were shopping, and found the best lunch spot that I have had since leaving the United States. Not only was the food fresh, but there was also a Tailor made Salad Bar :) FINALLY!

Once fed and happy, we headed for the Buckingham Palace. It was absolutely beautiful. All I could think about, however, was how they keep the Queen safe. With all the tourists around, all the commotion surrounding the place, I just could not imagine that she could honestly stay there and be or feel safe. But I guess its not my job to figure all of that out. Thank goodness.  From here, we walked to see Westminster's Chapel and Big Ben, then headed across the bridge to the London Eye.

I have never been on  a ferris wheel before, therefore I was pretty nervous, but in reality, this isn't much of a ferris wheel. Though it goes so much higher than a ferris wheel ever could, we stood in a huge glass tube in order to see the sights from the top. It was hot and stuffy, and I was both nervous and nauseous, however, the view from the top was absolutely worth it. From the top we could see the London Towers, Big Ben, The London Bridge, Westminster's Chapel, Hyde Park, The Buckingham Palace, etc... at once.
Once we got off, I begged everyone to go to the London Horror House with me, but after telling me that I was absolutely insane, they all said no. I wasn't going to go alone. So instead we went to a little Waffle stand and got Dessert Waffles and Chocolate covered Strawberry cups... which made up for not getting to go in the Horror House.

After stuffing ourselves with sugar, we got back on the tube, and set off to Primark. If you didn't already know, Primark is an enormous department store that is very famous in London and several other European cities. The best way to describe it is as a mix of HM, Target, and Forever 21 on EXTREME steroids. I had heard of Primark before, but no one could have prepared me for what I was about to endure. There was absolutely nowhere to step, the line for the dressing rooms has at least 40 people each, therefore people were changing in the middle of the store. Fortunately and unfortunately, I am my father's daughter and after spending about 3 minutes in there, I was so overwhelmed, claustrophobic, and nauseous that I had to go sit outside and wait for my friends. I just wasn't capable.
So that was over, we went to a wonderful restaurant for dinner, then went to get ready to go out. Going out consisted of going to the bar below the hostel that some of our friends were staying at, going to KFC, then going back to the Sloan Club... we didn't make it to the wild side of London Friday night.

Saturday morning we woke up, immediately got our Starbucks, then made our way to Hyde Park. After walking and enjoying the beauty and activity of the park for a long, long time, we spied the lake, where we went and rented boats and floated around for about an hour. It was surreal. There were swans all around us, the weather was beautiful, and we were in the middle of Hyde Park in London; it doesn't get any better than that.

After about an hour, our legs were exhausted from the foot pedaling, and therefore returned the boat, and went to the cafe on the lake for a lunch of Fish and Chips. The day couldn't have gotten any better.

After lunch Maggie and I went to take our boat ride, while the others went to Abbey Road. We didn't see much that we hadn't seen before, however, being on the boat, and on the river was great. It wasnt long, but we got to listen to a cute boy talk in a cute English accent, while seeing the sights along the river, and it was great as well as exhausting. Therefore once it was over, we hailed a cab back to the hotel with the intentions of taking a thirty minute nap then wandering a little more, however, ended up sleeping for two and a half hours.

We woke up at seven a bit flustered after having slept so long, quickly got ready to avoid wasting the night, then hailed a cab to go pick up our friends at their hostel and make our way to Camedon; my absolute favorite part. I am not sure why I am so attracted to areas such as these, but I was at my prime while here. To our left there would be a gang of what looked like bikers with long hair and tattoos, and while to our right there would be the most finely dressed English women we had yet to see. There were teenagers, and older couples; sketchy bars, and classy restaurants; creepy alleys, and trees by a pond covered in Christmas lights. I just wanted to stay forever.

Here, we found an amazing restaurant/bar that was absolutely PACKED and ate our body weight in food, while watching some older women hit on boys who were half their age. After dinner and some wine we went outside, crossed the precious bridge covered in Christmas lights, and went to the club/bar on the other side. Here we at last, unlike in Barcelona, we had the chance to dance, go to the bar, and have an amazing time without having to worry about creepy men coming onto us or invading our personal space. It was an amazing night of laughter, dancing, and fun to end a wonderful weekend. When it was time, we took a cab back to the hotel, for our last wonderful nights sleep in the Sloan Club.

Sunday, we left and went back to Barcelona. Though I was extremely sad to leave my new favorite spot in Europe, I was happy to be back at my home in Barcelona... and begin the count down until my wonderful dad and step mother get here... 8 DAYS!!!!

Love you all, miss you all, and cannot wait to see you in 39 days!