Extended Stay

Marriage.  When you're married and you actually get to live together, it's kinda the bees knees.  Truly.  After Brent's AIT graduation, I headed back to Utah for about a 2 weeks to pack up my life and then some, while Brent flew off to California (where his next base would be.)  He had to come out here to get all of his paperwork done, insure that I was on his orders so that I could come our here as well.  He also found an apartment for us, and took care of all the minor details.  Man of the year. 

He was then issued a few days to come home, get me and all of our gear, and move us over 15 hours away from home.  We didn't want to pay for a plane ticket, so we opted for a Greyhound bus to bring him home.  My poor hubby.  Everywhere they stopped was dirty and gross.  The bus broke down on them, and Brent, being from the mechanical family which he is, was the only one who was able to do anything.  He was supposed to arrive in Richfield at about 9 AM.  He got there at about 2 PM.  But I was glad to see my husband again.  It'd been a long week without him.  Thank heavens for Skype.

We packed up all of our lives, rented a Uhaul (not the cheapest things in the world) and with a bag of Fruities and some Ritz crackers, drove to our first casa.

When Brent pointed down the road to where the Monterey Bay (the area in which we would live) area started, all I saw was fog.  Lots of fog.  By the time we actually pulled into the area, it was dark and we couldn't move into our apt. until the next day.  So thank heaven for the close-knit families of the military.  We stayed with some friends from Utah who had been through Basic and AIT with us.  Then, we went and visited our first home.

We recruited some of Brent's battle buddies to help us move in (otherwise I would've had to help carry our couch, bed, etc. up a flight of stairs.)  Instead, I got to direct them of where to put things.  I secretly liked it.  After taking them out to dinner, Brent and I went home and set up our lives. 

It's just a tiny little apt. that has one bedroom and tiny everything else.  But it's home.  The dishwasher is horrible.  The fridge is rusty.  Both of which we hope to replace soon with enough complaining.  The sink dripped for a long time, and there's a weird sound in one of the walls which we can't quite place which gets really annoying if you pay attention to it.  But it's home. 

Like I've mentioned before, Brent has felt really bad about not giving me a "real" honeymoon.  But the other night as we walked to the beach from our house.  Yeah.  We did.  I turned to him and said, "Brent, I know you wanna take me on a nice honeymoon, but look at this.  We literally live half a mile from the beach.  We're near some of the most beautiful California attractions, and they're kinda paying us to live here.  How many newly-weds in their early twenties can say that?"  So even though this is NOT my safe and comfortable Utah, this is home for now.  And as long as I'm with Brent, who I now get to cuddle up with every night and his home for dinner, I'm good with that.