I'm going to Disneyland this weekend. With the entire soon-to-be-in-law's family. When I say entire, I mean entire. Aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, parents, and it's all for Grandma's 70th birthday.

I warned my nice, perfect fiancé: the thought of an airport makes me want to either have an anxiety attack or throw up. Or possibly both. At the same time. We're still flying there. But, we're driving back.

I believe this feeling comes from the 6 days I spent living in one during the excursion across the world in December. I can't distinguish between airports in general and the string of them we lived in for many days (located in not only many locations, but multiple countries) in my mind. When someone says "airport" I see Asians and think about sleeping on benches while mi madre hands out motion sickness pills like it's 1999.

The separation problem is so real that today I asked my mom, "Do I need my passport to get on the airplane?" To Disneyland. Yes. It's a problem.

Flight attendants: If I start talking really slow, clear (and probably loud) English-it's because I'm picturing you with a bun, waking me up every half hour to feed me poisoned, Asian, airline food, and speaking to me in Vietnamese. Don't mind me.

I did so good for so long. I guess I use those terms very loosely. If by so good, I mean I blogged a decent amount compared to other blogging times in my life, then-yes. I did so good. And If by so long, I mean for about a week, then-yes. It was so long.

I'm going to be lazy. Go figure. And let this post consist mostly of pictures. Let them equal a thousand words, OK?

My very best friend in the whole world got married. She is so happy. And I wasn't even sad. (The fact my own wedding is swiftly approaching probably aided that fact.) I did cry. We both did at her reception. But it was a good cry. A cry that remembered how good our friendship is. A cry that only lasted a minute or so (although I did have to fight back tears for a little while after). It was a healthy cry. A cry for change. A happy, grateful cry.

Tanya requested I be there the day before to comfort, console, and keep her company (and help keep sanity present). I was more than happy to.

Here's some pictures:

Quick side note: Tanya's bachelorette party was a surprise pole dancing class. Hilarious. At first I was a little reserved, but quickly loosened up. Tanya, on the other hand, was a natural. Literally. So much so, that if they become successful early in marriage I'll suspect she has chosen an alternative career route.

Selfish me: I'm so excited for it to be Tanya's turn at my wedding. How cool is it that she got married first, so she can attend my wedding? At the right time, in the right place, by the right authority. Oh, and did I mention to the right person?

Dear Tanya,

I love you. I'm glad we're different together, so we can be different best friends. There's nobody like you. Not a day has gone by that I don't thank The Higher Power for placing you in my life. Never stop being in my life. Yes, I am that selfish.

Happy wedding. Happy life. Happy husband.

-Yours Truly

I have no idea how to plan a wedding. I wish I had a billion dollars. My best friend is getting married tomorrow. I'm not as upset about this fact as I thought I would be. Probably because I am getting married. I think Dustin said it is 149 days. I can't wait until I get married. I love Dustin. I wish he didn't work at nights. Especially on nights before I leave, when I don't get to see him for a couple days. I hope I have everything packed. Should I pack an extra dress? I feel like I am re-wearing the same thing three times; probably because I am wearing the same thing three time in a row. Oh well, who have I got to impress? I'm already engaged. I love my ring. I love that people think it looks like "me." I love that my diamond sparkles even in the dimmest of light. I still look at my ring all the time. I walk past the mirror and make sure my left hand is somehow showing so I can admire it. Never give a girl with OCD tendencies a diamond ring. I analyze and reanalyze the ring, making sure I haven't damaged it. Sometimes I even make Dusin check it. He doesn't even look at it anymore. I know he hates when I ask him stupid questions like that, but I sure am glad he does it. Sometimes I just need reassurance. Like on everything I need reassurance. Like my wedding. I just want to make the right choices. And I want to love it. Even though I know I will love it. Dustin is so calm about it all. He says we're supposed to be stressed. I need to be more like him. In more way than one. I'm glad everyone likes him. He still needs to meet Richard Westerberg. That was my bad. He should have been one of the first people Dustin met. I'm so scared to ride the shuttle tomorrow to Salt Lake. Richard would threaten to slap me silly if he knew I was stressing myself out over something like that. So would Dustin. I'm excited to see my family. Hopefully the wedding plans go smooth. I might as well prepare myself for some rocky spots. Let's be honest, it's me, my mom, and my sisters...trying to make wedding plans.

I still can't believe Tanya's getting married. Tomorrow will be my last night with her, well, her as my single best friend. She's the best. I can't believe I'm engaged. I can't wait until it's my last night as a single best friend.

Told you I shouldn't think. Instead I'm playing tetris on Facebook, while "Sleepless in Seattle" is playing in another screen (I'm just listening). I'm thinking about everything I need to do and waiting for Dustin to call.

Right about now, we're heading to the good ol' state capital to watch his brother play state basketball. There's some pros and cons to this situation.

+I will get our of Rexburg. Not only that, but it will be with a nice, perfect boy.

-I really should have started my lesson for Sunday earlier.

+It's warmer in Boise.

+I really like watching basketball.

-I get to sleep in a hotel room with D's grandma and little sister. This isn't a bad thing in the least-except I sleep talk. Bad. I don't think I'll tell them that usually I not only talk, but scream in my sleep. Humiliating.

Well-just heard the knock on the door. Off I go. We'll see if they still want me around after this.

Happy birthday, Boo. I know when I found out Mom was expecting you I was less than happy. OK, I'm working on being more open and honest-I was a tyrant. But, Josh, you're the best, youngest brother. You always keep everyone in line, while making them feel special. You tell us stories, and teach us church lessons. You are our father.

I can't believe you're this old already; doesn't it seem like only yesterday I was calling you "Tumor?" Remember that? You were learning to walk, and you fell almost as much as I do at the age of 21. You always had these overly large goose bumps on your forehead. Of course, being myself, I referred to them as tumors.