So my boyfriend came back from Germany. I'm really proud of him. I thought I'd lost him to a country full of wurst.
I've decided that he is never allowed more than 20 miles from me for more than 2 days. I'm planning on implanting a tracking device in his neck to help me facilitate this, but shhh don't tell him. Which is my way of saying that I missed him a lot when he was gone. As in, he left a message on my cellphone to say something about his flight, and I saved it just so I could listen to it and hear his voice. Since when am I that dependent?
Obviously, I was at the airport when he came back. At first I didn't want to go, because it involved a lot of me letting myself into his empty house and waiting for his mother and then interacting with her for a couple of hours before we drove to the airport. But I decided that it was worth it. That and Chinh came with me, which made the entire ordeal MUCH less awkward and MUCH more fun.
We worked on catching up on our hug quota at the airport until Andy's mom decided she doesn't like PDAs. That was sad. Luckily, his house isn't "public," so affection is allowed there. Um.. yeah, try to ignore that last sentence.
Since I live in Coon Bi and my parents responded to my "can I stay at his house?" query with laughter and a "no way," I had to leave around 10-something last night.
So I spent all day today trying to get a ride to his house. And so far we have driven to the following places: the farmer's market (where I saw Elliot, which was odd because the market is near Coon Bi), the coop, my house, the hardware store, Home Depot, the garden plot, and my house again. None of these are Andy's house. I am distraught.
I think I've filled my angst requirement of the day, and I should go try to convince my parents they like driving to SLP.