When I think of Maine, I think of rocky coastline, lighthouses and bright yellow fisherman waders (and because I equate everything to food, I also think of lobster rolls and…..other lobster dishes. I am a culinary genius, obviously). Anyways! When I got wind of this whole “lets move to Maine” idea I conjured up this gorgeous image that probably came from the cover of a cheap romance novel.
And. I. Was. Wrong.
Ya’ll, we are moving to Bangor, Maine (don’t stalk us, please). If you find yourself at a gorgeous, rocky coastline in Maine, turn around, put your back to the ocean and head inland. Way inland. Then, for good measure, head North. Right before you hit straight up National Forest territory you should run into Bangor. It’s no wonder everyone keeps asking me if I like the outdoors.
Nope. I sure don’t.
So here’s what I know about Bangor, Maine:
Julie the Cat Gaffney is from Bangor, Maine

So is Paul Bunyan…or at least I think he is due to the gigantic statue of him that graces downtown Bangor (oh yeah, that is real life).

and Stephen King lives in the creepiest of creepy houses in downtown Bangor. 

Armed with all that worldly knowledge, I hopped on a plane in Charlotte, leaving behind the perfectly sunny Carolina Spring, to join Justin on our first trip to Bangor. He beat me there by a day so he had time to warm up to the idea (pun intended) that Spring had not Sprung in Maine. Like, not even close.
Flying out of the Carolinas

and into Maine
I was lucky enough to have a short layover in LaGuardia so I got a chance to have a nostalgic Bride moment when we flew over the exact spot where Justin proposed to me (in a helicopter over New York City…stay tuned for that story).
And also, the LaGuardia terminal I flew out of is super cool. iPads everywhere and wine at the ready.
Fact: wine makes everything better.
And so does Mindy Kaling
As the clouds began to thicken on my last flight into Bangor, I could literally feel myself getting butterflies in my stomach (ie: straight up anxiety). Unfortunately, it was late by the time I flew over our new hometown, so despite my best efforts to smash my face into the window to see the landscape, all I got was a headache and a pissed off seat mate who must have wanted to star gaze on our decent into Maine.
Sorry I’m not sorry.
It was freezing and raining on the ground, but at least Justin was there to rescue me from the airport in his sassy rental car. And honestly, it was obvious that he was just so excited to show me everything that he had seen that day. He’s better than me at just being plain excited and not worrying about every.single.thing. It can be infectious (and annoying) but this time I gave in, for him, and let him get me excited about everything we have happening to us, for us and because of us.
So for now, Cheers to Maine!