"Honey, I don't know how to tell you this, but your package of noodles is in the middle of Main Street."  I never thought I would hear Calvin say that to me.

In the movie "500 Days of Summer" one of best scenes is when they are shopping in Ikea. It is like a playground for home decorators. One of our favorite quotes to say is when Tom says to Summer, "Darling."
[Summer looks up at him]
Tom says, "I don't know how to tell you this, but... there's a Chinese family in our bathroom." In one of the 300 square-foot model apartments there is a Chinese family oddly looking at Tom and Summer as they cuddle on the display bed.
For some reason we crack up hysterically every time we hear this.
It has been the punchline for weeks.

However today was not a day for laughing. I was late to work and I had to drive Calvin to school. I managed to spill an entire tray of frozen celery on the ground before leaving the house and didn't have time to clean it up. My hair was wet.
It was not turning out to be a peachy morning.

I looked like a tightrope walker as I tried to cautiously balance everything in my hands while trying to open the car door. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to put something down. My lunch, (in a glass container) seemed like the perfect thing to rest on the top of the car.
"Just for a minute," I thought.

I tossed the keys to Calvin because he was a better driver. He sped all the way to BYU campus, swerving like a race car driver. I heard a loud thunk somewhere between 4th and 5th street.
"What was that?" I asked Calvin.
"I don't know."
Our car makes lots of noises.

We finally arrived at BYU with a few minutes to spare.
Calvin leaps out of the car with his backpack in hand.

"Hey... you have something on your car, a student said with a puzzled look on our face.
Somehow, the glass container defrosting vegetables and a bag of trail mix was still intact, had defied the law of physics and were resting on the hood of the car.
The noodles though, were gone.



I snatched the food and put it in the car to hide my embarrassment.
Calvin, at a loss of words for the disaster we just avoided, just kissed me and said, "Only you Krysta would be able to do something like that."

On my way home I went down main street imagining to find a package of udon noodles with tire tracks on it. I didn't.

However, "The case of the missing noodles," was not a tragic ending.
Every day I pass by what I lovingly refer to as the "tamale lady." I sometimes see her several times a day, in rain or cold selling tamales. She must be at least 80 years old. Well today was the day. I finally bought some. I found a dollar bill and some coins in the car so I gave it to her and said, "I'll have two chicken tamales please."
She didn't speak a word of English.
Trying to remember the Spanish I learned from Dora the Explorer and Taco Bell commercials, I said in my Spanglish, "dos chicken tamales porfavor." She didn't understand so she pulled out a worn menu and had me point to the  kind of tamales I wanted. I was not her first English customer.
She then lovingly wrapped the tamales in a brown paper bag and handed them to me with a smile. At that second, even though I didn't speak her language we shared a wonderful moment together. Human connection is so powerful that sometimes language doesn't even matter.  I wish I could have bought 20 tamales to help this sweet lady.
Although I didn't plan it, it turned out to be a good day after all.

It is a special place.
A place where Crocs and Bay Hay & Feed hoodies are dresscode, a place where liquid sunshine reigns, and ferries are normal transportation -- a place I used to call home.
I was so glad I could finally take Calvin to "one of my homes." When your parents are wandering military gypsies, home is wherever  you make it.

Riding the ferry "titanic" style.

My dream wedding reception had always been to have a big "dinner party."
Our Hawaii reception was not your typical reception.
I wanted to know the people at my party.
And, I wanted to actually eat at my reception.

We definitely had a "Big Dinner Party."

There was no dancing or flower throwing or garter ceremony, but it was a celebration we will never forget.
In the Kaneohe Yacht club, only our closest family and friends came.
There was live guitar music and a hula dancer to make everyone feel welcome.
On the tables my wonderful family helped me place photos of Calvin and I attached to ocean rocks. There was sea glass pieces that decorated the tables and flowers. (My aunt Janet and mom stayed up into the middle of the night getting things ready.)
Nikaela sang the most beautiful and original version of "My Best Friend."
We had an endless buffet and the most delicious cake. (The cake was made by Naan who owns the Portuguese bakery)
The parents gave speeches.
We gave speeches.
There was a slideshow of Calvin and I from including baby and child photos.
There was lots of happy tears  during that part.

When we were "sent off" there was no rice or sparklers, but we had the infamous gong pounding and people shouting and cheering.

It was absolutely perfect. It was how I had imagined a wedding reception should be.

After two missions, dozens of letters, and the 147 days between the time of our engagement and wedding day - it was finally here.

It was the Big Day.

I don't know about Calvin, but I had never been more excited and nervous all at the same time.
Perhaps that is why all my brain could think of was the phrase,"This is kind of a Big Deal. This is a Big Deal! I'm getting MARRIED."

I know I was not very eloquent,  but I did know the importance of marriage and that it was a big step in my life to marry the love of my life.

It was a rainy day on the morning of August 10th, 2013. It didn't bother though me because my whole philosophy of wedding planning was, "as long as we are sealed in the temple, I don't care what else happens." Honestly Calvin and I would have temple-eloped in March or April, but we wanted to come to Hawaii. It just seemed fitting.

We arrived in separate cars just a little bit late. I ran into the temple waving an umbrella over my head with a few minutes to spare and quickly got dressed. I slipped into my mother's wedding dress like I had practiced so many times before. However, this time was not a dress rehearsal, it was for real.

In the sealing room it was the most peaceful feeling. Surrounded by family, friends, seminary teachers, young women leaders, I felt like everyone in that room helped raise me. A little piece of Heaven.

The sealer talked about how Calvin and I had both been born of goodly parents, just like Nephi. He told how many young couples don't make it to the temple, but because we had good parents who loved us and taught us values, we were able to stand as a couple over the alter ready to make eternal covenants.

And then we were sealed.

Coming out of the Laie Hawaii temple as husband and wife

Love.

A rainy day is a great day for marriage.