After J had picked me up from the airport we went out to dinner at this restaurant claiming to have “Chicago’s best thin crust pizza”, so we tried it.  J loved it, me not so much, although I have always been a fan of deep dish pizza.  We then went back to the hotel that J had gotten for us; he still had to check out in the morning, so we could not start our road trip yet.  I gave him a good deep massage, because he tore a muscle in his butt while PT’ing in pre-BUD/S, not good, especially since hell week is a month and a half away and there is no way for him to relax before then.

It is 6:04 am and J’s alarm never went off, it was supposed to go off at 6am, but apparently on his phone, Fridays are considered weekends and the alarm was set for weekdays.  I wake up to wake him up so he can shower and head to checkout with all of his guys, but instead we both fall back asleep, oops.  J wakes up at 6:30, jumps out of bed, throws on some clothes and heads out the door, I fall back asleep.  I hate when hotels have the blackout windows because I sleep all day and do not even realize it is time to wake up.  J gets back around 9:30am and I am still passed out, damn blackout windows.  We shower, and then checkout of our hotel and head to this yummy breakfast spot he and his guys would go to. 

I wish I could remember the name of the restaurant – it was delicious!  I had the most amazing oatmeal (I know sounds boring, but it wasn’t) with brown sugar, nuts and milk with a side bowl of strawberries and bananas, yum!  J had a breakfast bagel, also very delicious and he had oatmeal as well.  I love freshly squeezed OJ, so of course I got a glass, it was splendid. He ordered a white mocha (they served Seattle’s Best) and I gave the restaurant a great review (If I feel a restaurant/worker did excellent or poorly, I always fill out their comment card).

We head off on our road trip, but before we leave Chicago, we have to stop at the grocery store to get snack items and a 24 pack of bottled water for the trip (we learned from our last road trip that we should take a case of water ($3), much cheaper instead of buying a bottle at every gas station ($1.50 each).  We count down the miles as we pass through each state. 

We finally get to Iowa, yay, one state down!  J tells me what Iowa stands for: Idiots Out Walking Around.  Just as he was telling me that (we are about 100 miles in the boarder of Iowa), we see a bum walking along side the freeway (we are driving on I-80, the most boring freeway EVER) with a backpack and a plastic garbage bag with a hole cut out, using it as a raincoat, we both laugh, could not have been more perfect timing, but that is J for you.  His timing is ALWAYS perfect and he is the luckiest guy you will ever come across, he gets away with everything (I could write a blog on just how lucky J is).

We stop for lunch, because I am starving, at this gas station that has a Subway.  I am craving a sandwich.  J tells me to order whatever I want, but make it a footlong and he will share it with me.  I order the chicken sandwich, get some chips and a drink and we sit down to eat.  As I take a few bites, my chicken (which is supposed to be heated, it’s the chicken breast/strips) is frozen.  J’s is perfect (of course).  I take it back up to have them re-heat it and they look at me like I am retarded.  I ask in a very nice manner “the frozen chicken is supposed to be warmed, correct?!”  The manager grabs my sandwich, throws it in the microwave for 1.5 minutes (I think she meant 30 seconds, but pushed the wrong button, I am giving her the benefit of the doubt).  She checks on it when there are 30 seconds left (it has already gone a minute) and quickly takes it out, telling me it is hot.  It is BURNING hot!  I can’t even eat it… this pisses J off because the teenagers behind the counter were already snooty to begin with.  He wants to take the sandwich and throw it in the girls face, but I convince him not to.  As we get up to leave I grab the trash, but J insists on leaving it at the table to make the girls clean it up (he is all about good customer service, and if it is bad, he lets people know in one way or another).  I tell him that is rude, and go to take the trash, he takes it from me telling me he will throw it away, but I know he will not.  When he thinks I am not looking he throws it on the table (I am already half way to the car) and we get the hell out of Iowa.