The mail does NOT always come through!

After spending an hour waiting in front of the post office at 7:05 in the morning, I can officially rest easy. Though now that I think about it, the Layton Postal Service might now have me on a watch list, so they are probably on high alert. The past couple days have been killing me. Literally. I think I should have died by now. I know, the three people that are reading this are probably rolling their eyes, however, I didn't think my heart could take much more of the waiting. The anticipation has likely taken at least three years off my life.


What was I so anxiously awaiting? Laurie's mission call. Why was I waiting at the post office so early? I'm getting to that. Eventually. Why is Laurie's mail woman (Juanita) afraid of me? I have no idea.

I know, I know, I'm living vicariously through her, but that's what happens when you know how awesome a mission is going to be and your best friend is going to be the most fantastic missionary ever. That's right, I said it. Fantastic.



But, I digress. On Friday we knew that the call had been issued and that it would be coming. I was excited. Following standard Utahan protocol, we assumed that her call would come yesterday. Not taking into account the cessation of postal service on Memorial Day, we counted down the hours until she would get her call. If any of you knew me and Laurie, you would know that we plan out everything. When I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING. So, we likely mentioned every mission in the world as possible scenarios and gauged the likelihood of her getting called to each one in our many planning sessions leading up to Wednesday afternoon from noon to 2:30. I even made a pie chart. (It was awesome!)


Come Wednesday at 12:05, I find myself sitting on the grass in front of Laurie's house as we attempt to appear calm and wait, albeit impatiently, for the mail woman to arrive. Now THAT was a funny conversation that went something like this:

"Wait! I think I hear something!" I say for the fifteenth time.


Laurie, using her first grade teacher voice, responds patiently, "No Kels, that is an SUV. SUV's are different from trucks because...(this is where I stopped listening and started mocking Laurie until she noticed)...I'm a pro at listening to cars. It's too fast to be a mail truck." She finished firmly.

Suddenly the mail truck zooms past us as we simply stared at each other in shock.

"Was that just---?" I ask, still dazed from the dust spurted by the tires of the mail truck (which really looks more like a box than a truck, but I'll continue with the story)

"What do we do?" Laurie inquires.

"Follow her!" I reply. No sooner had the words left my mouth than Laurie had dashed across the street to my car (Because let's be honest, there was no way either of us were going to try to outrun the speeding truck).

Thus began the mail adventure of a lifetime. Only four houses up the street and around the corner, we caught up with the mail lady. Laurie jumped out of the car and ran up to the woman. Luckily keeping a safe distance in my car, I could feel Laurie's disappointment as Juanita handed her a stack of junk mail, the large white envelope conspicuously absent.

Devastated, we returned to her front lawn amid Laurie's mutterings of "Stupid Scurvy Infected Woman" and "I bet she just doesn't want me to get my call, the meanie head." (I know, insults from Laurie are very harsh, though that was probably the worst of the expletives that she used) Certain that a medical problem must have seriously hampered Juanita's ability to sift through the mail, we spent the next hour waiting for her to come back just in case *wishful thinking* Juanita miraculously found the mission call.

As we waited fretfully for Juanita to return, a stroke of brilliance hit me like a thunderbolt. Why not call the post office and see where her call would be? I thought as I immediately took out my phone and looked up the number. Before Laurie had a second to question me, I had dialed the number and was pretending to be her for the post office worker. This seemed like a grand idea at the time, until she asked me my address.

"Sure, Hun. I just need your address." She said, once finding out that I was not calling on behalf of my son or daughter, rather for.....myself.

"Uhhh," I respond as I searched frantically for those little number thingies to let you know what your address is. Laurie quickly informs me, and I parroted the information onto the supervisor lady who told me that she could set my (Laurie's) call aside and she would just need my phone number.

My mind totally blank, I realize that I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT LAURIE'S PHONE NUMBER IS! She's just on my phone. And realizing I can't ask her what her number was without sounding like an idiot, I opt for my fall back plan---LYING.

"Uhh, just a second." I admit sheepishly, "We just changed our phone number."

At this, Laurie bursts out laughing and tells me her house number. Then she proceeds to help me make sure I spell her name right for the little note that the supervisor is leaving for our scurvy friend Juanita.

"Now, once she calls you tomorrow morning" (Serious Interjection: She really did say this) "you can go to the small door that we have on the side of the building. Ring the doorbell. If no one answers, wait a moment, then ring the doorbell twice. Someone should come then." She tells me in hushed tones.

"Oh, ok. Thanks." I say in surprise.



I couldn't help but feel like I was participating in a drug deal. Or some covert operation with code words and secret symbols and all that jazz.

Not one minute later, Juanita pulls up to the mailbox and looks at us with sympathy. I can only imagine how pathetic we looked, staring at her mailbox as though our efforts would actually make her call come faster. Juanita takes down Laurie's phone number and PROMISES to call her by 7:15 in the morning.

Realizing that there is now nothing I can do, and that I have missed work for almost 2 hours, and that I need to go to Karlee's graduation before she beats me to a bloody pulp, I extracted myself. Now, another point for all of you who don't know. I am not a touchy person. I don't give hugs. That picture up there, is pretty much the extent of my physical expressions of comfort or whatever. I just don't do it. Anyway, the point is that I extracted myself without any major hugging involved, though it was a close call.

Hanging out later that night, I discover that Laurie has now decided that she can't go on with her life because she has to wait until 7 in the morning to get her mission call. Knowing my friend needs a little pick me up, we hung out at my office at work and ate nachos! I LOVE NACHOS!!!

Back to the whole point of the story: Does anybody remember what that was? I sure don't. Oh well! The next morning, I arrived at Laurie's house promptly at 7. We were ready. Arriving at the Post Office at 7:05, we were ready for Juanita's exciting call to inform us that the hour had arrived.

7:10 passed. 7:15 came and went. We tried not to panic. It was only 7:18. 7:23. 7:31. At 7:33 Laurie's sister called wondering why we had been so thwarted. At 7:35, we came to the only logical conclusion: Ring the little doorbell and MAKE THEM GIVE US THE STUPID ENVELOPE! Here is a picture of Laurie staring at her phone, willing it to ring. It didn't.


Approaching the Dutch Door down a dark (ok, semi-lit) hallway, we rang the bell once. After no answer, I was about to ring the bell twice more when a woman opened the small window at the top and asked us what we wanted. Discovering that Juanita SLEPT IN, the lady at the window offered to leave Juanita another note. (BTW, for those of you counting, Juanita now has Laurie's number THREE TIMES OVER!) In discouragement, Laurie called her mother and explained that we were now waiting at the post office for Juanita to come to work.

7:45 comes and goes, and Laurie is getting antsy. by 7:55, I'm ready to die. 8:05 rears its ugly head, and I think we were both ready to shoot something. Then, the unthinkable happened. Laurie's phone began to buzz. JUANITA HAD FOUND THE MISSION CALL! Prancing back to the secret door, Juanita proudly handed over the mission call.

Now where is she going? That is for her to tell you....since I got to share this great story, it's the least I could do....right? Good Luck Laurie!

I will tell you this. After she opened her call, I hugged her. Yes. I Kelcie Ann Jensen, hugged my friend. It was a huge step. Then, before I left, I hugged her again. I told her she should have documented the experience, because it likely won't happen again.

Now can anyone explain to me why Juanita filed a restraining order against me? I only BARELY found out where she lived in case we had to track her down since she SLEPT IN!