Wednesday, September 28, 2011

A late night stroll to Seven Peaks

A story of how awesome of a wife I am:

On Monday, Greg plays hockey for a rec league in Provo. He's the goalie and I love going to his games when I can. I didn't get to go to any over the summer since I was up in Salt Lake, so I really wanted to go to his first game this past Monday.

This week is insanely busy for me, and as Greg got ready to leave for his game, I had way too much homework to get  done to go. His game was at nine, which means getting home after 10:30. So I told him that I wouldn't be able to go, and that I would try reeeally hard to go next week.

Well, since Greg has to get there so early, by the time 9 actually came around, I was done with my hw. So I decided I would go to his game and surprise him. One problem - Greg's car has been overheating, so he drove my car. I had no car to drive to Seven Peaks (the ice arena). I looked it up, and Seven Peaks is less than a mile from where we live. So I decided to walk!

It was 9pm and there was no one outside. Anyone who knows me well knows that I am a very nervous and jumpy person, so the whole way there, I was freaking out. South Provo isn't a bad place, but I was walking through the areas where students didn't live... I was walking in the south Provo "ghetto". And I didn't like it one bit.

There were quite a few times where I was too scared to go the direction I needed to go, so I took the long way through familiar apartment complexes until I made it to the main road. Getting there took like 20 minutes! But I finally made it and was so proud of myself!

When Greg was done playing, he skated off the ice and saw me and was really happy that I came. He started talking to me about it and I proudly declared "I walked all the way here!" He was like... "Really? Why?"  "Well, because you drove my car... duh!!"

"No I didn't. My hockey pads don't fit in your car so I just took mine."

Seriously???? I walked to Seven Peaks in the dark when my car was parked at home.

A story of how silly I am.

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