Why I love to Travel--Cruising Addition

**So I totally wrote this eons ago, and never posted it! Sorry I'm so slow to post!**

When you get to be a certain age, there's something very comforting about unpacking in one place and having your hotel move to different locations rather than you doing the moving. There's something magical about having someone make your bed up for you in the morning, just to turn it down at night. And at any age, it's too good to be true when other people will not just cook for you, but serve you as much food as you can gorge on.


Last year I took a cruise with a bunch of women I didn't know and Kristin (see sidebar for blogs because I can't remember how to link things!). I survived the high seas, and told Hubby that rather than going to Disney World to have breakfast with Winnie the Pooh for my 30th birthday, we should take a cruise. The cruise was actually cheaper than Disney World (before the airfare to Puerto Rico and back), and we know we'll be taking a little one to Disney World for breakfast with Pooh soon enough. Hubby had never taken a cruise, and as last year was his first year seeing an ocean, this was a huge chance.


We thought about abandoning the cruise as we are hoping to have a little one come into the world and come home with us in a couple of weeks, but really, the chance to have one last blow out for the two of us, and one final kiss goodbye to the joyful days of my youth, was much more fun. So we left Thanksgiving Day for the big city to spend the night and catch the plane.


I've already droned on about the plane, so let's get to the airport in Puerto Rico. We landed after 10 pm their time (6 pm in Podunk) and discovered that the government must run the taxis in PR, as there is the tourism department that meets you at the airport and assigns the fare to you--no taxi meters. So we raced around Puerto Rico in the dark, noting everything listed in Spanish, and my trying to remember those many years suffering through Spanish class in high school. While they are a US territory, Spanish is primary, and most people spoke English, but there were a couple of times where someone translated for us to be sure we were going to get where we were supposed to get via the taxis. Anyway, we had a balcony view that we were not impressed with at midnight, and we fought to go to sleep.


The next morning, Hubby stepped out onto the balcony and discovered that we were with a block of pristine white beach and beautiful Atlantic Ocean, so we raced out to hit the beach. I, of course, didn't think we'd be out there that long--we were burned in no time. Go figure. So then we hit the ship.


The ship we were on was 13 decks, and held about 2300 travelers, plus I believe a crew of 900. We were assigned to the early seating, and our table mates were a fun couple from B.C., Canada celebrating their honeymoon, and another nice couple from Israel celebrating 25 years of marriage. We had 5 stops back to back and then a day at sea. Our first stop was St. Thomas, where we overslept that morning (thanks to the time difference!), but were fortunate enough to have the tourism department dude guide us to a lovely beach. We spent the day in the water and just loving the sand! St. Thomas was beautiful--definitely some place we'd like to go back, and would recommend.


The next day was St. Martin, and my celebration of another decade completed on the Earth. It was a traumatic day for several reasons. As you may have noticed, I was not excited about turning 30. I really had a ton of plans of things to accomplish in life before I turned THAT old, and I didn't do one doggone thing. So as we prepared to hit the streets of St. Martin, I was putting on makeup and checking for new wrinkles, when I found THEM. Nope, not new wrinkles--apparently gravity was being nice to my face that morning--but rather two very obvious, long, waving in the wind, white hairs right along my part. Are you kidding me? Was there not another day that these could have been found? So the day started off on a very sad note.

Immediately after taking the water taxi downtown, we were attacked by very pushy sales people for some resort community. Hubby and I have attended many speeches, and no, we don't have a time share any where, but I think we were so sleep deprived and sunned (not to mentioned stunned by the white hair!) that we didn't know what was happening, and we went...of course, the $250 offer for simply listening to the talk was promising, and the ones we've attended in the past actually did pay up what was promised. So we wasted a couple of hours walking around a timeshare and politely assured the salespeople that the place was lovely, and while we make an obscene amount of money, we spend an even more obscene amount, and couldn't afford it. They handed us a voucher for $250 towards jewelry that wasn't that nice and was WAY overpriced (as in, the cheapest thing there was like $600 so they'd make their money back because the piece was worth maybe $100). We did our mandatory souvenir shopping, and just went back to the boat.

The next day brought us to Antigua. We decided that rather than deal with pushy people, we'd just catch a taxi to a beach again. However, no taxi driver would take us without "a tour of the island" and the tourism lady chewed our rears for not wanting a tour because "everybody thinks only about the beaches and there is much more to the island." So we agreed to pay sixty bucks and take "a tour" of the island with a couple hours on the beach. The taxi driver was a very angry woman, and she was screaming into her cell phone as she led us and another nice couple from Canada to her taxi. She continued to bark things into her cell phone, and despite her heavy accent, we're not totally dumb, and could hear statements like "will this get me what I need? How much do you need? I'll give you $600--will that get it to me? Where should I meet you?" and then we pulled over in what was not the wealthiest part of Antigua and watched her hand a wad of cash to a male who pulled up in a dark SUV with tinted windows and she again asked if that would get her what she needed. We raced off to a beach and once we were on secure land, the Canadians and Hubby and I looked at each other and agreed that in our countries, this would have been considered a drug deal. That night we attended a mystery dinner on the ship, and were telling our dinner companions about the experience, and were assured by one that he had been offered drugs as soon as he was off the ship, and decided Antigua was not the place for him to go wandering. So, while Antigua was beautiful (once we got out of the "slums" from her arrangement with the man), we are a little jaded.

That experience lead us to agree that while we wanted to not spend oodles of money, and had therefore avoided the excursions through the ship, we needed something for St. Lucia. We booked a historical tour of St. Lucia, and the morning we docked there, St. Lucia instantly felt welcoming, warm, and friendly. We took the tour, and saw most of the island, as well got to attend a silk screening factory. I would totally go back to St. Lucia in a heart beat.

Our last stop was Barbados, and we booked a swim with sea turtles, snorkeling, and beach trip. Barbados was incredibly beautiful. We'd never been snorkeling before, and I ended up with nosefuls of salt water despite the mask, and the feeling that I was going to drown--weird, because I've been in oceans before, and I can swim, so I don't know what my problem was--so I only swam with the turtles for like 10 minutes. Hubby loved it. He swam with the turtles, he touched the turtles, he went to the "ship wreck" (barges that had sunk) and the reef...I think Hubby would have stayed forever if possible. It was very cool. We ended with a stay on the beach right next to the resort that Tiger Woods rented out to get married...and if I had Tiger Woods' money, I would so be there all the time.

We had a day at sea, and then returned to Puerto Rico. We planned to tour old San Juan and to see the forts, and to really make the most out of our time in Puerto Rico. Of course, I woke up sick that morning, and stumbled to breakfast so that I could say goodbye to the couple from B.C., Canada. They had made dinners such fun! I met up with them and a nice couple from New Jersey that were seated with Hubby, and the nice lady from New Jersey asked me when the baby was due. Now, keep in mind I'm sick, so the first thing I think about is that Hubby told them that we were waiting for the birth of our daughter the end of December. I had no idea why he would have told complete strangers about the adoption, but hey--we're excited, and we were on vacation. Nope, it turns out that because I'm FAT, and Hubby told the others I was having a slow morning because I wasn't feeling well, she assumed I'm pregnant. She recovered quickly, and I was so sick that I didn't even catch on to this until after we were off the ship and at the hotel. So instead of touring San Juan, we spent our last day of vacation with me wishing to die on a couch and then a bed at the hotel.

While we most likely will not cruise with this cruise line again (lots of hidden charges, not as inclusive as we'd been led to believe, and surprisingly, the food was no where near what I thought it should be--it didn't come close to the other cruise line for last year's cruise), we will definitely be cruising again in our future. For one thing, I'm getting too old to not be cruising :) For another, I like being catered to and to having a new port of adventure just around the corner. Of course, with a new baby, the next time I'm cruising will be for my 50th birthday...and I'm sure I'll then be looking for brown hair to surprise me.

Why I Love to Travel--Flying Addition

*The friendly skies
Complete with the "we're saving money so there's not even peanuts available on a 5.5 hour flight" and the "we may charge you for baggage...but there's not not enough room on the plane to actually carry on more than your purse."
Extends to the crying children that the parents forgot to drug, and the obnoxious people that inevitably sit in front of all 6'4 of Hubby and then lay their chairs back with a surprising bang. You know, Hubby and I don't lay our seats back...and the last time I thought about it, I checked to see who was behind me before I did in case they were tall.

*The incredible magic shrinking chairs.
I'm sure it has nothing to do with the expanding size of my rear end...especially after a 7 night/8 day cruise where I ate non-stop.

*Airport Security.
I'm sure I'm more secure now that my luggage has been checked by USDA--but not the open bag nor the purse I could have carried something in. I'm also sure I'm more secure now that I've shown my ID to one person and then my boarding pass to the guard less than 10 feet away and to another guard less than 5 feet from the last guard that is immediately in front of the xray machine and then finally to the guard on the other side of the metal detector. Seriously, this was the way we got through the airport in San Juan to come home. I also got to do the walk with my pants around my ankles because my metal belt set off the alarm--but Hubby's belt did not. And the buckles are the same size.

*In Flight Movies.
Is there anything better than watching CBS Eye on America on __________ before and after a seriously cheesy movie? I think not. I have now seen all the shows I have avoided and learned that there was a good reason I avoided them. Anybody out there seen "The Big Bang?" Enough said.

*The Delay Announcement
"We're delayed here folks due to a mechanical error. Once we figure it out, we'll get you on your way." Great. We'll locate the problem and then we'll ship you out of here on the same plane. It took an hour to locate the problem, and only 10 minutes to check the problem. So I could have sworn I heard every little bump, squeak, squeal, moan, etc. that plane made as we taxied down the runway and lifted off.

Have I mentioned I'm sure I'm going to die in a plane crash?

We obviously survived the flights to and from San Juan. Lots more to come about the cruise and how I woke up after 30 years on this Earth and was still alive! Some highlights to come include the birthday morning surprise, drug dealing Caribbean style, animals both on sea and...well, technically on sea again, and how to enjoy all of this while burnt to a crisp!

Time Flies

Remember being a kid and waiting FOREVER for Christmas or for a birthday? It felt like time was so slow. I remember as a child being told that as I got older, time would speed up. It has. The Christmas decorations are out in the stores, and I swear that summer just ended.

I had no idea it had been over a month since my last post. Things have just slid on by, leaving me as more of a spectator rather than a participant in life.

We took a trip to Las Vegas a couple of weeks ago. We'd been planning for years to celebrate the youngest of our sorority chapter turning the nasty 3-0. Another sister and I are the babies, and so conveniently, we split the difference between our birthdays, and headed out to Vegas with four other ladies. We stayed at the Palazzo, which was wonderful. We had two rooms, with three of us in each room, so we each had our own bed. One of the girls and I flew out a day later than the others, and so we were a day behind on our shopping. We had the required breakfast at Le Village Buffet at Paris. We trekked out to Zappos...where I did not buy one pair of shoes. What's wrong with me? Two of the ladies and I went to a lingerie specialty shop and the other ladies went to a Coach outlet--good thing they left me behind! We had great meals. We did hardly any gambling...I won $0.05! Whoo hoo! We mainly just shopped and shopped and shopped some more. I came home with some new stuff. Hubby sent a dozen long stemmed red roses to my room, so I gather he missed me just fine :) I got a pedicure complete with a "marshmallow mask" that felt like heaven after all the walking we did. And then it was time to come home.

Hubby and I are in the process of adopting a baby that is due in January. I'm trying not to say too much so as not to jinx it. I do go on more on my other blog about it. However, because time is slipping by, we've just realized that we have like eight weeks to get ready for the baby...or at least to gather the necessities, like bottles and diapers and clothing and car seat to bring the baby home. So we've finally broken down and started checking out the very limited baby places. Good news is that we've had many trips to Albuquerque, so we've started to get an idea of stuff. Hubby summed it all up when a salesclerk at one place asked if she could help with anything, and Hubby asked "have anything for sticker shock?" It's totally possible to get too carried away. Fortunately, Hubby and I have great friends, and there are many willing to loan/gift/etc things to us, as well as to let us pick their brains. There's something to be said about being some of the last in the group to have children :)

Work has been plodding along. I have received a promotion which equated to more duties, more pissed off people, more headache, and no more pay or days off. However, I am learning a lot about myself as a supervisor and I have been interested to watch how relationships change based on rank. I'm about to be transferred off the weekend graveyard shift to a weekday shift...the shift that stressed me almost to the point of quitting in May. The good news is that I'll have weekends off and can go back to church. We'll also do some more travelling, and then I'll take six weeks off for the baby, so with all the good stuff coming, it won't be so hard to get through this other shift.

The serious drama will happen in December, when I hit the big 3-0. Hubby is helping me ease into it by taking me on a cruise for seven nights in the southern and eastern Caribbean. We actually have two full days in San Juan, Puerto Rico too. It will hopefully be our last childless trip, and if I have to give up my youth at some point, I'm thrilled to be doing it on an island. Far away from everything else. The trip is helping me almost forget what terrible things will surely come when I'm old. I'm sure I'll need a walker to get off the plane home.

So that's about all. Looking at it here, it doesn't seem like all that much has happened. Having lived through the past four weeks or so, it seems like a whole lifetime of things has happened. If things are this fast paced at 29, what happens at 30?

Traveling Tethered to Another Man

It's very rare that I see a man and a woman eating a meal together that I don't assume that they are together as a couple in love. Put that man and that woman at a hotel together, and it's rare that I don't assume there's more than meets the eye. Replace that man with one missing his chica because he's homesick and miles away man, and replace the woman with me, and I am disgusted that people automatically think this way. Ironic, I know. From now on, I will try to assume that a man and a woman eating together may just be making the best out of an awkward situation.

I knew the minute the department told me that we would be traveling together that I was about to become a huge burden. I'm bitchy, perpetually tired, stressed out and, oh yeah, a female. Put me in a car for hours, stick me in a town smaller than Podunk, and tell me that I'm the only non-cop at a training where I have to be on my best behavior and remember I represent a whole stinking department, and I'm a double dose of whiny. Add to it that law enforcement is a pretty tight community and that when a cop can get away and hang out with other cops from other places, no cop wants to be linked to any non-cop that's not their family...especially when the non-cop doesn't drink. Who wouldn't want to put me in their unit and run away with me?

I seriously worried about this, and tried everything short of giving up the class (which I really needed to advance my career), and everything fell on deaf ears. Officer told me not to worry about it, and swore that it wouldn't be any big deal to be tethered to me for 16 hours out of a day. We've worked together for about two years, and we're friendly enough that I bitch and moan at him when we're on shift together. It couldn't be too awkward to travel with a man that was not Hubby, right? No big deal. So off we went.

Officer retrieved me from my parents' house (it was Mom's birthday) and as Hubby walked me out, one of the Parental Unit made a comment about flashing back to seeing me off on a date...that set the mood :) Officer didn't say anything about it, and we were off Sunday night, into a week of assumptions from other people.

We went everywhere together. He had to go to Walmart, so we went to the nearest town together. We attended class together, sat by each other, ate every meal together...there was nowhere close to the hotel, and we had to drive to another town to find food. I learned a lot about him thanks to the time we were together. I would wager he learned more about me than he ever wanted to know. It's weird to travel with a co-worker to begin with. Make that co-worker a member of the opposite sex, and somehow things just feel odd.

It's double weird because I spend more time with officers than I do with Hubby just due to my work schedule v. Hubby's work schedule. I think that's why officers form bonds with other officers, firefighters with other firefighters, etc. We have to become a family for the trust issues. We choose to become family because of the time we are together. We must make up the largest dysfunctional family ever, but we are a family. And the week with Officer--although awkward and odd at times--will have helped me build a bigger foundation of trust with Officer. I've totally got his back any time.

I think Officer was relieved to have Hubby meet us in Santa Fe to unload me. Lucky for Officer, he has to work with me tomorrow night for a 12-hour shift...and then he'll get a whole week before he has to see me again. Lucky for me, I have Hubby who will gladly resume the duties of listening to me bitch and moan, rant and rave. And while Officer had to fill the role of listener because he had to be tethered to me, Hubby does it because he loves me. That's pretty sweet.

More Adventures in the Land of Oz

Just returned home from a trip to another glamorous part of New Mexico. Actually, it was quite lovely where I was, although I have to confess it's another area I would never live in. God would have to do a lot of smacking me upside the head with a 2x4 to convince me to move there.

I'm a little hesitant to say too much about where I was...see the previous post. I gather that I really offended someone from another part of the state--which is never my intentions--and when that person commented that I was "mistaken" in my impressions, I did not take it very well...as may be apparent by the fact that I still have some bitterness in my tone.

I love that people stumble upon this blog, and I love that some even post comments. I just hope that people remember that this is my impression, my thoughts, my feelings, etc., and therefore, things should be taken as gospel. Okay, not really gospel, but the gospel according to Kate. I have never intended to drag down society, and believe it or not, I am fairly knowledgeable about some things, and sometimes I have done my homework before blasting off my thoughts.

That being said, I also don't believe in deleting anything from this blog. I did so once before, and I really regretted it, because selfishly, this is about my journey through life, and it can be fairly amusing to laugh at myself later.

So let's just say that I went somewhere for a week in this wonderful state. Some good came from it, some not so good came of it, and some that won't waiver me anyway came out of it. It rained (because we're finally in monsoon season) and flooded parts of the town I was nearby. It was not as dry as Deming or Silver City was just about three weeks ago. I had never been there, so it was an adventure. I doubt I'd ever return. And the whole purpose of the trip was for work purposes, and that was a waste of department time/taxpayer dollars. I think my partner in crime for the week and I just wanted to put on our fancy red shoes and chant "there's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home" until we found ourselves with Toto in bed.

Sisterly Love

I am a member of a sorority.

I know what you're thinking--somebody actually let me in?!? Or maybe you're thinking--but you didn't go to college? To answer both, I'm surprised they let me in, and nope, I didn't go to school.

There's an amazing group of women that have saved me from myself over and over again, and I never would have met most of them had I not been invited to join. I've been a member of this chapter for almost 6 years...wow, that's crazy! It doesn't seem that long ago...maybe my math sucks. Probably because I didn't go to college :) However, this sorority is not an academic or collegiate affiliated sorority. We were started by a man that was a traveling salesman and he started the "National What to Read" club, and from that, we were generated. We do have chapters on campuses, but we're mainly a service organization.

Anyway, each summer there is the State convention, and we load up and travel to some usually God-forsaken part of New Mexico. While that describes most of New Mexico, this year was in Silver City, and I actually found Silver City to be pretty. Prior to getting there, we had to go through some incredibly depressing parts of the state. I have to interrupt my sisterly thoughts here, because I was really taken aback by some things on our travels. I don't know if I'll ever understand how it is that chili is our state's livelihood and most precious commodity (teeheehee), but Hatch, home of the chili, is so poverty stricken and poor. Talk about a humbling moment...driving through Hatch and the outskirts of Hatch, seeing the large ranches spread out on land that most would never imagine trying to grow something, watching the groups of what are most likely migrant workers working the fields by hand, seeing the falling down trailers and trying to comprehend how some parts of the state can be one way while others within a 4 hour drive are so different just blew my mind. I'm aware that New Mexico is amongst the poorest states in the nation, but there's something that just opened my eyes while we were driving through Hatch...and into Deming.

I know next to nothing about Deming, other than I've met some dispatchers from there years ago, and I know it's reputed to have a large gang issue, lots of illegals, and I'm pretty sure it was either Deming or Lordsberg that had the last school shooting in the state. Deming was again depressing. I don't think it helped either town that the drought is so huge and the terrain so rough and wild appearing...it felt like the Wild Wild West. The people in Deming were nice (well, the people in Blakes Lotaburger. The chick in Walmart told me that her job was so stressful and nobody could understand what it was like to work under pressure and the kind of pressure she has on her. I know I would never understand pressure at work!), but I honestly hope that we're never told to live there.

I digress.

So I trekked through the Wild Western part of the state...well, it's actually all Southern...with Hubby. Hubby had to invade the girls' weekend, and I'm not sure that was such a hit with the other sisters from my chapter. They all know why Hubby had to attend (see my other blog for all the boring long stories...you'll catch on quick!), and so I was banished from the car ride with them to ride in solitude with Hubby. Hubby's not bad company, and I love him; he's just not a sister. I don't know if this made me more off-balance than normal, or if it's just because I'm super sensitive, but I was so dreading the weekend. Not to be one of the girls, not to get to share in the bonding of the car ride--it had me bummed out. The girls were great, and I really appreciated their attempts to be sure I was included. Once we arrived, the girls were quick to share the personal jokes they had created on the ride down, and while I wasn't there and therefore didn't get them, the attempt was truly appreciated.

We spent the weekend dressing alike, which is no easy task, as I am a size double digits to the max, and I think that one of them was a 2, one a 4, and the other an 8. I love my sisters, and they are all beautiful, strong, passionate women that would look great in a burlap sack. I am a fat hormonal wench that can't fit into most clothing especially this week and next. This is where my sisters again showed me remarkable love--each morning they greeted me with how beautiful I looked, or how great my choice of top was (of course, we were wearing the same clothes, but for half of Saturday, we only wore the same skirt and chose our own tops), or how much they liked my half-heartily styled hair. Only a sister would lie to me like they did :) And I love them for it.

We were placing a bid to host the convention next year in Podunk, and we all had to play a part in a skit of sorts. Our theme is the 1940s, and I'm pleased to say that we did get the bid, and New Mexico's state convention for 2009 will be in Podunk. I'm not sure yet if I'm pleased to say that I'm a co-chair for the convention, but I'm excited to see where it goes. Our statewide sisters were so encouraging and supportive and kind...and now I have a lot of sisterly love to live up to.

There's something very cool in knowing that I'm part of something as wonderful and loving as this group of women from all walks of life. It's a cheesy warm feeling that I hope propels me through the next time an item of clothing won't go over my rear or the next time I want to snap at somebody. You rock, sisters! Thanks for setting an example and for reminding me that I am loved by more than those that HAVE to love me.

Hot Dogs May Contain Milk

This last trip to Baltimore had a lot of surprises in it.

First and foremost was that it is possible to be sick and miserable and to lose days in a hotel room. I'd been in Baltimore for less than 48 hours when my body went under protest. I think I caught the flu or some other awful respiratory crud. My father had also caught something, and he knew how to find the local doctor's office, and so he took me there on Monday morning. The doctor that was fresh out of high school stopped listening once the words "used to be an asthmatic" were revealed, and determined I had asthma. My last attack was 9 years ago, so that surprised me. The fact that I don't carry an inhaler and that I didn't know that asthmatics shouldn't take over the counter cough syrup surprised her. So I left with a prescription for an inhaler and instructions to buy some disgusting huge horse pills that have a commercial with disgusting mucus men playing in lungs complete with furniture. Know which one I'm talking about? I took one, and decided that made me sicker, and just fought the crud on my own with my trusty only used once inhaler. Another surprise here came from the hour wait for an inhaler at the pharmacy (imagine if it was a life or death situation...it's not like 50% of the East Coast doesn't have asthma...and I don't think I do have asthma even if that's what the kid in the white coat thinks was the official reason I was hacking up crap and burning a high fever for almost a week).

So I got better, but my grandmother got worse. Within 48 hours, she had gone from hallucinating but feisty and aware of her situation and surroundings to a crumpled little old lady in a chair that held a baby doll, needed full nursing attention and talked nonsense. When I saw her again (after I was sure I wasn't contagious enough to spread the crud throughout the rehab center, which was a couple of days after Mom had warned me about her decline), I confess I was stunned. Mom thought that grandma must have contracted an infection, as that makes those with dementia a little more loopy sometimes, and asked to have her tested. Of course, the fact that the rehab center STUNK and wouldn't feed my grandmother or be certain she had water or assist her to the restroom when she asked for help, should have been our first clue. There were 2 days where if we had not been there for lunch and dinner, I don't think anything would have gone into my grandmother. I had to feed her like you feed small children and coax her into drinking--after I hunted down a food tray. I think had events not taken place early Friday, my grandmother would have died. The rehab center didn't chart her sudden decline (and NOBODY declines this fast without an additional problem) nor did they test her as requested by Mom--her health care agent. The surprise here is that the rehab center is run by one of the largest medical agency in the Baltimore area and they are allowed to treat people the way they did. Guess who's drafting a letter to the State of Maryland?

Grandma decided early Friday morning--in her state as described above--to get up and walk. I don't know if it's survivor instinct or what, but she got out of the chair that the rehab center had her deposited in and tried to walk. She fell, and they thought she may have hit her head, so the center sent her to Sinai Hospital in Baltimore. The ER doctor and nurse couldn't believe how dehydrated she was. The ER doc pulled some strings and had Grandma admitted while Mom arranged to have her moved into a dementia unit at a new assisted living facility. The nurse on the floor Grandma was moved to had an idea to test her stool for infection, and sure enough, there was one...a highly contagious infection that so far hasn't been responding to the antibiotics so she can't leave the hospital until it's under control. Having her in Sinai was a God-send. The nurses are good to her. The doctors are good to her. The Rabbi even came and sang a blessing for her--one day in English so that we could understand, and the other time in Hebrew (which I missed and was bummed). Some of her confusion has cleared, but I don't think I'll ever see her completely clear again. The surprise here was in multiple places--this was the largest exposure I've had with those of the Jewish faith, and while I've always known that the Jews are God's chosen people, I've not had a chance to witness their actions, passion and faith practices. I am amazed with the way that their faith is so incorporated into the hospital and into its practices, and I'm certain not all of the hospital staff is Jewish, but the love and the concern for healing people overwhelmed me at times. I was also surprised to know that there are hospitals where people truly believe in the calling that they heard to become doctors and while I'm sure the hospital is about making money (because what place isn't these days?), I never heard any questions about how the care was going to be paid for--the conversations were always about what the best options were and how to obtain them. This wasn't just with my grandmother, but also when I passed the Auxiliary fundraising or overheard staff while on the elevators. I was honestly surprised to learn that there are those in the health care occupation that care about healing people and not about making money or showing off. Talk about stereotypes being blown to pieces. I wish my local hospital would go to Baltimore and witness what it means to admit a patient and discharge a friend (that's Podunk's hospital's silly catch line). Anyway, Grandma's still in the hospital today.

We went through the rest of Grandma's home and began to prepare it for sale. I didn't ever think about what a building could mean to a person. We moved around some when I was a child, so I guess I've never felt the draw to a house. Home is where you make it, not where you were born or where you were raised in my mind. However, my grandmother's house had seen almost 60 years of good times, such as the births of two children, two marriages for my grandmother, grandchildren, parties (nobody threw a party like my grandparents, I've been told), family dinners, holidays, etc., and 50 years of sorrow, such as the deaths of both my biological grandfather and my step-grandfather, the loss of children, dreams not quite accomplished for some family members that resided there, fights that threatened family ties, and more. I spent a morning with my great uncle listening to him describe the loss he felt at seeing the house go up for sale, because as he said "if these walls could talk" and because it was a constant in his life--he'd go there for lunch every day while he worked for Black and Decker, which was for over 50 years, to spend time with my grandparents, not to mention that he was present for all the above good and bad.

I did not get together with MIA, and for that, I am truly sorry. I haven't figured out how to talk with him about how things were/are. Once I got well, Grandma ended up in the hospital, and my days were spent going to see her or moving her belongings into her new home (should she ever get released from the hospital!) or closing up her original house, and the hours flew by. As my father keeps pointing out, we were gone from the hotel from 9 am until almost 10 pm each day. This doesn't excuse my not seeing MIA. And I do need to be sure he knows what happened and where Grandma is, as I'm sure he's discovered the house--which may be the only house he ever knew he was safe in as his childhood was not what I would wish for any child--is for sale and he himself told me he didn't know where she is. I'm surprised I'm still so selfish--worrying about how I'm going to talk with him instead of worrying about how he is feeling.

Not surprisingly, after eating out 2-3 meals a day (the hotel had a free continental breakfast), my clothes are definitely tighter than they were before. I don't think I care if I ever eat in a restaurant again...although I've eaten out 4 times in the week I've been home. There's a diner in northern Baltimore that has a menu to end all menus. There's got to be over 150 meals served in this diner. You name it, they have it. I was searching for something to eat, and I came across the warning "Caution--Hot Dogs May Contain Milk." Of all the things I knew hot dogs may contain, milk was not one of them. I think it sums up just how the trip made me feel. When I think I've figured out what life contains and how to get from the start of life through the end, I find out there are other ingredients I haven't thought about that sneak in and change the flavor.

Seeds from the Family Tree

My grandmother has broken her hip. She had to have it replaced with surgery.

This means that the majority of the East Coast is in an uproar. No, not the whole East Coast, just the ones related to me by this dwindling bloodline.

So my parents are racing across the country, and should arrive there by tomorrow. I'm flying out on Thursday. I leave immediately following a 12 hour graveyard shift. Keep in mind that catching a flight to Baltimore for me means a minimum hour and a half drive to the airport, the obligatory hour and a half wait due to security, a minimum two to three hour flight to an airport that is bound not to have anything that I want to eat and most likely will have to catch a ride to the other side of the airport, minimum two hour lay over in said terribly stinky small airport, and another minimum three hour flight to BWI. Each plane means tiny seats for my rapidly expanding behind (I really shouldn't stop to eat the airport food!), grumpy travelers, and usually at least one whiny child who's parents didn't think to drug the kid before embarking on a long trip.

Upon arrival at BWI, I inevitably get the baggage carousel that is furthest from my gate. I have a huge suitcase, and I'll have to pretend to smile while sporting greasy hair and mascara-y racoon eyes because I'll have been in my make up for at least 24 hours, and I'll have a whooping maybe 3 hours of sleep in me. I then have to trust my father to not kill me while driving on I-95/695 with the most aggressive drivers that I have ever seen in a state that boasts teaching defensive driving.

I haven't packed. I don't have a hotel reservation for the 13-14 days we'll be in a hotel. I haven't paid off my credit card from the last mad dash East in September. I'm leaving Hubby on Valentine's Day with a pile of debt that's going to double while I'm gone.

The only good thing is that my missing-in-action cousin has held out an olive branch. And I have always loved MIA. I've been terrified of what MIA has been told and has heard, and I've wanted to talk with MIA for months. I've got to get my arse out of bed in time to call MIA before I descend as a huge witch with a capital W on Baltimore, because he will make the whole trip worthwhile.

Don't get me wrong. I love my grandmother. I love my great-uncle. I have the related-so-I-love-you for my aunt. But I know it's not my grandmother that's waiting for me--it's a scared, lonely old woman who doesn't understand what's going on, and in that sense has become like a child. My great-uncle will be under layers of resentment and fear that he's losing his sister and that he's never going to have anybody love him, no matter how many reassurances we offer. I don't really have much faith in my aunt anymore. My parents will be stressed trying to do what's right for everyone, and therefore not taking care of themselves. And my brother has chosen to be dogsledding in Alaska instead of joining this fun (actually, I don't think anybody has told him what's going on).

And then we have the long drive home.

It's amazing that as I age, the forces that formed this family have given way, and rather than the limbs branching out while the trunk remains strong, the limbs have fallen and little seeds are forming additional trees. MIA has his beautiful family. Hubby and I are a family. Someday Bro will possibly have a family (ew, Bro with a girl?!). I just don't want us to lose the connection we had because of the big tree. I don't know how to keep our roots entwined. But I'm pretty determined to make it happen.

The Healing Power of Giraffe Spit

We have just literally arrived home from a whirlwind weekend in Phoenix.

We have some fabulous friends in Phoenix, and each year, Hubby says--hey, let's go harass them and visit them while we spend every penny we've made all year long on Christmas gifts.

Ok, so that's not really how it goes. However, Hubby is good to me, and he knows I miss these friends, and he misses them, and they're really good to both Hubby and me because they let us visit each year, and each year they actually invite us back!

So we booked it out there on Friday, and after 8 hours in a car, most of which I slept because I'd just gotten off work and was grumpy and hungry and desperately in need of some zzz's, we arrived on K&A's doorstep. K&A whisked us in, let me get cleaned up, and we were off on a grownup date because their daughters had plans that night. We ate out, laughed a lot, and began our shopping.

Every year I get us in what could possibly be over our heads, but God is truly great, and He always has the bigger plan worked out beyond what I can see. My sorority has run the local Adopt A Family program for several years, and Hubby and I have always adopted--not always officially. Usually, some family ends up being the only family not adopted, or somehow their Adopters forget the delivery date, or misunderstand the program, and Hubby and I (along with begging my bleeding heart parents--it's genetic, I come by it honestly) race out and purchase items for these cases. The last two years, Hubby and I have intentionally adopted a family and then still done last minute madness. Even the year that we lived in the wealthiest community in NM, and yet made less than $25K/year combined and paid over $300/month solely in utility bills, Hubby and I maxed out our cards to be sure that others were taken care of for the holiday.

I'm not trying to brag, and I sincerely don't run around screaming "look at us and what we do;" I'm sharing this for a couple of reasons. The first and foremost being that no matter what our situation, we've always been able to pay off Adopt A Family come January. A surprise refund, profit-sharing when Hubby worked private sector, Christmas bonuses when I worked private sector, a winning poker game, whatever--we've never gone into debt for longer than we had to pay it off before interest. I really believe that this because God knows what's on our hearts, and He knows how blessed we already are, but He also knows that there's always a greater lesson every year that we learn during Adopt A Family, and He always provides.

We don't deliberately run up debt thinking that God will magically pay it off--we're completely prepared to pay it off in whatever way we have to. I don't want to sound glib about it. It is never a good idea to go further into debt for anything. However, we know that we make a ridiculous amount of money and that we have an absurd amount of crap that wasn't necessary--and if we can jack up our bills on non-necessities, we can certainly do it for a family that asks for toothbrushes for Christmas.

So there we were in Phoenix, doing our typical I want to buy everything on the list (we have a family of 6 this year) and Hubby doing his they don't need everything, when I somehow just lost it. In the middle of the little girls clothing section. Even the little saleshelp tried to pretend she didn't see me. I don't know if it's the season, or the time of month, or the fact that I was on the eve of turning another year older and realizing that life isn't what I thought it was--not good and not bad, but we'll go into that on another post--but I just started to cry. And I realized that this really sucked. We could only make a tiny difference for a day with a physical something, and it wasn't enough. And I remembered the lady last year that prayed so hard that her grandson (she was a disabled grandmother raising a 12 yoa boy) would have gotten snow boots because it snowed the day of the deliveries and he hadn't had any to wear to school, and sure enough there were the boots. So I cried some more, and Hubby tried to put me together again, and we finished for the night.

The next day was more shopping, and wouldn't you know it if Hubby didn't disappear around a couple of aisles and return with something that almost made me cry again? Everyone in the family needs jackets, and the littlest two need diapers, all children need toothbrushes, and the little boy needed a used car seat. And none of that was fun for a child, so I wanted to find toys and coloring books and dolls and Tonka trucks. After we bought everything on the list (well, we're missing Mom's jacket because I can't find a winter all purpose coat for women in Phoenix--go figure), I thought that Hubby would strangle me for also wanting a new car seat, and I was planning to call the hospital for a donation. Here comes Hubby around the baby aisles, and there's a brand new car seat on top of the basket. I don't know how I didn't lose it in the middle of that store too. I think he was relieved not to have waterworks less than 12 hours apart too!

After the second day of shopping, we went with K&A to their church (it was fun! plus, we don't usually get to see other churches when we travel, and I like that!), and then we went to dinner, where I think I spent too much time between meals (11am-8pm is longer than my grazing schedule normally allows), and I think I was drained, so I got a headache and pretty much collapsed and was no fun once we got back to K&A's house. Sorry I was a bummer if you read this!

So after we bought for our families and jacked up some credit cards for our siblings and parents, and then, as all good traveling exhausted couples do, especially when one is not feeling well, we hit the road to come home. We left at noonish, and by the time we grabbed lunch and were leaving Anthem outlet area, we were fighting. I don't know why we both claim to like traveling when it always includes a day of arguing loudly with each other and at least one of us (not me unless there are two of us doing so, of course) pouting in the car. This time I was driving, and I cranked up Carrie Underwood's new CD that's slightly angrier than the Christmas music and the hymns we had in the Jeep. In my best put off voice I announced that we were now passing the Wildlife thing I always wanted to see but of course never got to see when the great Pout became a martyr and announced we could go, so he'd look like the good guy. Trying to fix him, I pulled over, and we paid $60 for a 2 hour entrance to the park.

Watching the personnel feed raw meat (think heads and such) to lions and jaguars and bears and cougars and tigers and hyenas and wolves put us in a better mood. By the time it was time for the safari adventure (or whatever it's called), and the guide gave everyone a cookie for the giraffe, we were talking and smiling. And by the time the giraffe nuzzled each of us and ate out of our hands, we were ready to be married and in a car together again. Definitely recommend paying $60 to get slobbered on if it means you can remain married and travel home together.

Of course, I needed the giraffe again when Hubby ate corn chips that stunk up the car and I was grouchy about it. Hubby needed the giraffe when I got mad at the jerk in the truck hauling a trailer that didn't move to the left when I was trying to merge back onto I40 and flipped the truck off. Maybe I needed a giraffe again then too. And we both needed the giraffe each time we realized that by now Kiddo has landed in Iraq.

Maybe they loan out the giraffe? Or maybe they at least bottle the spit?

The Kiddo, C, and CO

I got so caught up in the dog and in Hubby's new hobby (to be fair, he's only had 1 out of the 6-pack), that I forgot to share about Colorado last weekend.

I love Colorado. I think that if we could live anywhere, I'd totally live there. Beautiful scenery, great mountains, blue skies (even when it rains!)--and I hate the outdoors. However, the ease of flowing from one city to the next and the comforts that come with suburbia, and the option of having all four seasons and green grass can't be beat. Every time we come home from CO, we talk about how great it would be to live there. Of course, we said that about Phoenix too--but Hubby confessed that he doesn't want the heat that comes with Phoenix in July :)

So our mission was to see our kiddo before he ships out to Iraq. I tease Kiddo that he's the little brother I never wanted but got stuck with somehow, and he responds in kind to me. Years ago, Hubby was a Sunday School teacher for junior high kids at the old church, and he caught wind that there was a need for a junior high youth group. I can't even swear that we were married when he started working with jr. highers in a youth group setting, and that evolved into Hubby being the deacon dude in charge of the youth ministry--which we did for like 7 years. Kiddo was part of the first junior high youth group, at the tender, impressionable age of 11. Hubby took on a big role in several teenagers' lives, but he took on an even bigger role with Kiddo. Hubby and Kiddo did everything together for years, and Hubby was a big brother/mentor/friend/leader/authority for Kiddo. Kiddo moved in with us his senior year in high school, and when Hubby and I separated and Kiddo had to move out, it broke all of our hearts. Kiddo was "adopted" by my parents, and I am truly blessed that Kiddo's mom is a good friend and sister in Christ and that she "adopted" me. Bottom line is that our lives are totally mixed with Kiddo's life, and I can't imagine not having Kiddo in it. So when Kiddo entered the Army to be in the Infintry, my heart sank.

The military is a good place for Kiddo to be, and he has grown and matured since entering it over a year ago. Unfortunately, Kiddo got pulled for 24 hour duty the weekend we were going to see him, so we only got him for a couple of hours Friday night. We took him to dinner and to an awful movie (hey, he chose it!), and then it was time to part ways. I asked Kiddo if he was frightened about going to Iraq, and he answered that he knew it wasn't a matter of if he was going to be hit, but when and whether it kills him or not is not in his hands. Kiddo currently drives a big machine, and it will take a ton of prayers for him and his crew to return safely. So start praying now! His tour is for 15 months, and they leave in the next week to 10 days reportedly.

I'm a nervous wreck for him, and I know Hubby is worried for him as well. We're so proud of him, and we're so thankful to our men and women of the Armed Forces--especially today they're on my mind, because without them, I wouldn't be free.

Saturday we met a friend from my work in Castle Rock and blew my paycheck. How weird is it that I don't get together with this friend in my own state, but put us both out of state and we hang out? Her daughter is gorgeous, and 2, and she was quite taken with Hubby. We did the shopping thing for hours, and went to meet my long lost friend C for the evening.

I lived in the big city in NM for about a year when I was young and single, and it was there that I met C and her husband and their darling boys. The boys will always hold a very special place in my heart, as will C and her husband. I don't think I can ever thank C enough for her support when we lived in the city--she was my main support system--and it was in my friendship with C and while I was living there that I really began to discover who I was. Unfortunately, the boys were sick, and C's husband stayed home with them, so we didn't see them.

It totally rocked to hang out with C. She and Hubby are a lot alike, and have the same sense of humor and trains of thought. C was great enough to venture into Victoria's Secret with me, and she was good enough to Hubby to prevent some "underwear disasters" that she thought may happen. C and Hubby are so much alike that it's a little scary to sit at the table between them. We closed down PF Changs and then went to Dennys for pie. Is it a bad sign that the first thing I noticed about a dude in Dennys was his prison tats across his neck? After we ran out of room and places to go, we parted ways and agreed not to let another 4 years go by without seeing each other. We won't go into how she's been to NM a hundred times and just hasn't seen me...or how I've been in CO a hundred times and just haven't seen her :)

So we're home this weekend, and then we're off to Phoenix next weekend for another weekend of blowing my paycheck...hopefully that trip will involve actually purchasing items for others too!

Of Measurements and Mexico

Ah....to be on solid ground...actually, it's very unnerving because I keep swaying like I think the Earth is moving or something!

We're finally home, and I just walked in the door. Well, I walked in about an hour ago, but there was mail and e-mail and it's all piled up. Good thing I'm not someone important, or I'd be overwhelmed :)

The cruise was a lot of fun! I'm going to try not to bore you all the long details, but I'm going to give you some play by play action. The drive down was a million miles (we didn't go all the way to Galveston--we stopped about 45 minutes away), so I did get to know at least the names and some brief information on the ladies in the van with me (there were 11 in the van and another 5 in another car--and I did talk with them on food breaks). What a fabulous group of ladies--and I'm being totally sincere, as none of them have my blog address yet ;) It was really nice to be able to surround myself with Christian women and to have a great sense of peace about the trip.

The boat was actually not as big as I thought. I mean, it was huge (crew of 900 and 2500 passengers), but I think it's one of the smaller that Carnival has. And Carnival is a party cruise line to be sure. It didn't take long at all to get on the ship, and I was able to room with my long lost friend "K" aka Kristin (check our her blog linked to this page). That was another great blessing because K and I have been friends since high school, and I feel totally comfortable with her and it's like although months go by, our friendship picks up where it left off.

I guess it's a good thing that I've outgrown the must be drunk to have a good time phase (actually, I never hit that phase but did manage to get slightly sloshed on a conference once before--that's the only claim to fame I have as a drunk...oh, and the time I set the oven on fire because I hid the alcohol in the oven when I wasn't quite so clear and had to call the fire department). However, it was refreshing to see that you never outgrow the need to have fun, and even more interesting to see that the most intoxicated on board were all over 60 years old. Totally have K's permission to share this story, and I'm sure she'll post it better on her site. We were at formal night and K was dressed dashingly, but needed to take off her slip after dinner as she discovered that it was longer than her slit in the dress would allow. We meet up with two ladies that must have been 297 years old, and they had been having a "good time" for hours. One of them decided that she needed to help K, and much to everyone's surprise (there were like 7-8 ladies in the area of the restroom), she launched herself on the floor and put her whole upper body under K's dress. This very....friendly...lady became so intent on assisting K, and with the ship rocking (apparently the roughest seas are between Galveston and Cozumel), let's just say that she wasn't very successful. I don't think any of us have laughed so hard--we were literally on the floor with laughter, and that had nothing to do with the fact that one couldn't walk straight because of the sea!

Everyone talks about the food on a ship, and as I am the pickiest eater (you can't tell from looking at me!), I loved having so many choices. My favorite was of course the dessert--and the fact that you can as many as you want. To work it off, I walked a ton on the ship (almost always took the stairs and walked the boat each night)...I'm sure I only gained 20 pounds instead of 21, but that's okay.

K and I rented a moped to see Cozumel. We ended up with a double seater, and I left the driving up to K. K was very sweet about my trusting her to drive, but I don't think I actually thought twice about it--which is odd, because after a rollover a couple of years ago, I barely trust Hubby to drive me around. If anyone can explain to me why the United States doesn't use the same systems for measurement as the rest of the world, that would be great. Obviously everything was in meters and the speed limit would be posted like 40 km or something...not that any of the Mexicans followed it. The moped topped out at 60 (or that was the recommended speed for it), and I think we stayed pretty close to it. We went all the way around Cozumel, and the beaches are gorgeous--just like the pictures. I proved that I should never ever get in an ocean, as the minute I got in the rocks were being washed ashore and onto me and I did get a cut--a teeny, tiny scratch really--on my foot. We didn't leave the shore to venture into the ocean though. We found a really neat restaurant on top of a cliff purely by accident, and had our first lesson in how many pesos make up a US dollar (it's not 100 pesos=1 dollar, by the way). Spent some money (I actually spent more money on the ship with the spa!), watched K talk several dealers down in price, and got back on the ship.

Second stop was the Yucatan/Progresso. Progresso is very dirty and very poor and very depressing....like Juarez by the ocean. There's a strip of a boardwalk that looks fairly nice, but as soon as you head a half a block into the town, you see the poverty. I didn't actually stop in Progresso because I took an excursion into Merridia (probably am spelling that wrong) where I rode a segway for the first time ever. You may recognize the segway from the commercials with all the little old people cruising a street aboard a two wheel scooter--the scooter is not vertical but horizontal--and you control it by leaning forward or backward. It's much harder than it sounds to get started, and the turning controls are under your left hand. You push forward for one way and backwards for the other--and I never got that right. It's all about balance, and after being on the choppy water, it was hoot to watch us. We were all dressed nicely in the helmets and the little elbow and knee protectors--I felt like a little kid, but I'm really glad we had them because had we not, I would have fallen off. The excursion included a tour of the museum of history in Merridia, and our tour guide was fantastic. He was very proud of his Mayan heritage and speaks Mayan, Spanish and English fluently. He also speaks Italian--but not as well as the others. He learned them all as a child. He also told us that in the Yucatan, teachers in the smaller villages have to speak Mayan and Spanish in order to teach school. How is it that other countries can teach children multiple languages but the United States doesn't consider it important enough to be mandatory?

It was interesting because our group was 44 women with ages varying from 19 to 83 years old (and two 12 year olds). I was doubly glad to have K with us because there's a bit of a gap where the ladies are 19-24 and then the others were mostly I'd say late 30s and up, so although most of my friends are over 30, I don't really see us as being the older crowd, but I'm definitely not the younger crowd. I think they were surprised by my age too (the younger crowd) because one of them finally ventured to ask me how old I am--and then was unable to ask anything else :) And watching three or four of them made me very reminiscent of the days when we used to take the youth group all over.

So after another day at sea, and another ridiculously long drive last night (I actually drove from outside of Ft. Worth to Amarillo hauling a trailer for the first time ever and I didn't cause any accidents!) where we stopped in Amarillo at 0200 and then left at 0900 to come home. The trip was definitely worth it, and I will feel so much better about recognizing faces in church. I was really ready to come home, too. And that feeling will only last until work figures out I'm in town and calls me to come in.

Beached Whale Warnings

If you get any sightings of a beached whale somewhere along the lines of Mexico, check to be sure it's not me.

I'm embarking on my first cruise ever tomorrow. I don't know why exactly I haven't been a cruise before. I seem to remember that my grandmother (my paternal one) took my cousin on several cruises and had discussed taking me when I got older--but when I got older, her cancer reoccurred, and then I got married and she died, so it never happened.

Anyway, Hubby has been attending a church for just over 18 months now. Initially I went with him (the first 2 Sundays), but then I've been on weekend shifts at work, and it's never worked out. So when the ladies of the church decided to take the cruise, Hubby decided with two of my friends that are members of the church, it was time for me to get involved and go meet some of the other ladies. I signed up, and over time, I am sad to say, my other friends that were initially going are no longer able to go. So I thought I was going to take this cruise bravely and put on my we're-all-family-of-God brave face and tackle the world with a bunch of strangers.

Fortunately, I was reviewing some of the e-mails that have come out, and have discovered that my friend K that I've known since high school is also going. So I sent her a message via her blog and we finally connected, and I'm probably going to be holding her hand the whole trip :) YAY!

The cruise leaves Texas and over the course of a bunch of days (see, I really have no clue what's going on!) we dock in two ports in Mexico--one of which is Cozumel and the other starts with a Y or something like that. I am at work now, but in just under 7 hours I'll be meeting a large portion of the group--meeting for the very first time as I don't know anybody but the pastor's wife who is graciously arranging everything--and we'll get in the church bus and a few cars and drive to...somewhere in Texas. I don't even know if we're going all the way to Galveston or not.

I'm totally panicked over what to pack (because you know that hasn't been done yet and I have 1.5 hours between work and meeting the others). I don't know what one wears on a cruise ship. I'm freaked that none of my clothes will fit. I'm pretty certain the swimsuits won't fit and I can't stop remembering Dan Rather's comments during a Presidential election and the whole Gore/Bush scandal and something about a long ride with a too small swimsuit (no, I don't know how that fits into anything in regards to the cruise but I didn't get it back then either). I'm petrified that I'm going to make a horrible impression on these women because I'm pretty sure I'll sleep and snore most of the way since I'm totally a night owl now and I don't want them to think I'm rude (the only time I've even seen some of their faces was at a quickie meeting and the pastor's wife introduced me saying that the women would know Hubby as he's always at church with other women--those women being said friends above--and there was a horrified look on one woman's face at the meeting). I'm afraid that I'll sleep all day and miss the ports and all the fun and bother my roommate (although we're trying to switch rooms so I can hang onto K with all my strength).

And my partner at work keeps telling me how brave I am to travel, and especially how she admires me going with a bunch of people I don't know because she could never do it. Little does she know I'm like a child going away for her first sleepover!

I'm pretty good about meeting new people when it's a situation I'm comfortable in, like when I go to trainings for work or when I'm doing something for the sorority or even when I was at a church that I'd been attending for several years. It's totally irrational that I'm this freaked out given that they are my sisters in Christ and that I'm very confident in who I am (it's only taken almost 29 years of life on this Earth to get there!). I'm sure it'll all be fine.

Of course, there are also things like people going missing on cruises that have been on Dateline recently that I should be worried about. So seriously, if you hear of a beached whale, make sure it's not me after I fell overboard!

Another Day of OT

Another day off and I've been suckered into work, so you know it's time for more useless babble from me. What's on my mind? A couple of things:

1) Why is it that I agree to come into work for a mere 4 hours to cover someone that calls in sick, and my relief waits until AFTER I'm in the door at work to announce that she's not coming in at 1830 as agreed? Shouldn't there be some sort of "NO" course of action for this? I can't leave until she does meander in. She did agree to come at 2030, but seriously, at that point I've already missed my family commitment, and I might as well stay until her regularly scheduled shift at 2230. So I called her and told her so. Ok, so I didn't tell her that since I had to miss my family thing--but I did say that I might as well stay the extra 2 hours.

2) This is the second night that I've been called to cover for someone on the weekends. It's a darn good thing that I switched to the weekdays--who else would cover? Last night we were watching the Mythbusters in Albuquerque, so I didn't come in when I was called...which gives another co-worker the chance to be a martyr since she worked 12 hours, left for 4 hours, and came back to work 16 hours. When I worked the weekends, nobody would cover for us, and we ended up hardly ever calling in--we just came and sniffled/groaned/took a million over the counter drugs and suffered. I do feel bad for the co-worker that had to work a zillion hours, and I did offer to come in once we got back to town this morning at 0100, but she was adamant that I have a day off...perhaps because we sort of had a warning that I was going to have to work today, and I'm working some awful hours this week (like 9 days in a row, and 6 of those are 12 hour shifts).

3) Thank God for DVRs and TiVO. Apparently, the only time anything can happen in Podunk happens during "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" and "Desperate Housewives." No, I don't know why the power is off or how long it will be off--I'm 9-1-1/Police/Fire/Ambulance, and although I can sound like the voice of God, I'm not an electrician and my crystal ball is out of commission :)

4) Why is it that the more clothes I buy, the less I have to wear? Maybe it's because I haven't done laundry in a while...or because when I work, I eat a million more calories than when I'm off and I keep outgrowing the clothes...I'm sure it's not either of those.

5) Thinking of outgrowing things, I think I broke my couch. We got the couches about 2 years ago (we'd ordered them way before they arrived), and while sitting on the couch the other weekend, the couch made a groaning noise and felt like the legs were flying out to the other side of it (know what a colt looks like attempting to get to its legs for the first time and the legs keep splaying out awkwardly while it struggles to get them under its belly?). We flew off the couch, but there are no broken legs or visible sinking in the middle, no coils sticking out or boards dropping. However, when you sit in the middle, you can feel yourself sinking. If I'm not at work tomorrow, I'm supposed to call La-Z-Boy and ask what's up.

6) OOH! We got new end tables and a coffee table. That means we now have 2 whole rooms in the house that don't have any hand-me-downs/other peoples' taste in them. YEA! We're almost grownups!

7) WOW! We just got a B&E in progress...and my co-worker kicks butt :) The town is safe tonight.

8) Can't remember this point because it turns out the B&E was an animal in a yard. The town is still safe tonight.

9) Know those little vacation scams? The ones that offer you so many nights/days/cash back if you listen to a 2 hour sales speech? We got another offer, and it's tempting, because since I was traveling every month earlier this year, it seems odd not to be traveling until Christmas, and since I have weekends off, I'm forcing Hubby to run away with me to quick weekend getaways. Ok, so actually, it's his idea to go back to Phoenix in November, and I think I'm going to ask him to go to Colorado Springs in a couple of weekends to see our kiddo that's shipping off to the Middle East right before Christmas (and maybe I can finally see my homegirl that I haven't seen in a million years). However, this offer is for Las Vegas, and we were just there a year ago, and we don't really drink or gamble. Hubby likes the idea I think, and there are always shows, so maybe we will go...and then we'll get suckered into the timeshare thing because we always do.

10) Okay, I lied. I'm actually going on a cruise in November, like in just over 2.5 weeks. With a bunch of women I don't know. There will be 2 friendly faces in the group, and they're all ladies of the church that Hubby has been attending for over a year (and that I'm supposed to attend now that I have weekends off--hahaha--the one Sunday I had off and that I hadn't worked the night before until 0630 that Sunday morning, I did go). I'm a little nervous because I don't know the majority of them even by sight, and I have no idea who my cruisemate is. However, you can't go wrong with a cruise to Cozumel!

11) If all my leave slips get approved, I'll be off every Friday in November except the day after Thanksgiving, which is a holiday and therefore double time and a half. Now who's being a work slacker?

I'm all out of thoughts other than my tummy growling and I get to go home! Yippee!

Family Ties

There are a million stories I can (and most undoubtedly will) tell, and I'll try not to put them all in this post. Basically, my grandmother (the only grandparent that I still have alive) is aging, and with her Parkinson's and the Dementia that she has that is rapidly progressing, it was time to have her placed in an assisted living facility. Consequently, Mom and Dad drove to Baltimore, and I flew out and drove home with them after we packed Granny up.

Let's just say that putting someone you love in a tiny room that's "NOT a nursing home" but that's not home is very difficult. I know it was miserable for me, and I imagine that it was a million times harder for Mom. For years, Granny has begged us not to put her in a nursing home, and the assisted living facility is not a nursing home, but it is a home with nurses and health aides and everything is monitored. Further, Granny had lived in her home for 58 years, through the deaths of both her husbands, raised two children and one grandchild, watched the world change as her neighborhood changed, and spent all of her adult life in this house.

It's also not easy to watch someone you love deteriorate, both physically and mentally. It's particularly scary when you realize that this could be you in another 50 years.

So I went to try to ease the situation for both Granny and for my mother. I'm not so sure I did anything for either of them. A little bit of background info on my family is that in addition to the medical issues for Granny, there's also family drama everywhere....I have an aunt that is not the best example of what a person should be that's fleecing Granny of every nickel and dime that she's ever saved--which Granny freely hands over fistful after fistful--and is married to an honest to God mental patient; a cousin that's trying so hard to get away from his mother (said aunt) that he has changed all his numbers and hasn't contacted the family in months--enough months that we didn't even know that he has another child; and a great uncle that is very lonely and has discovered in the past 10 years or so that his life wasn't what it could have been or what he wanted it to be--so he struggles to control everyone else's life. It wasn't just a matter of trying to move Granny, but a matter of dealing with all of them and the constant drama that surrounds them. We watched my aunt remove a couple of hundred dollars in a matter of days from Granny. Aunt announced that she hunted Cousin down and told Cousin that we didn't want to see him--not at all true; in fact, my mother and father have acted as pseudo grandparents to my cousin's children and desperately wanted to see them, but couldn't reach Cousin as he's hiding from Granny and Aunt. Great Uncle is really distraught to see his sister, Granny, in the state she's in and is depressed enough that Aunt and Mom are worried about his well being. Granny can't keep track of days or conversations, sees hallucinations, and honestly believes that she should be going to the house although she falls on a regular basis and the house is full of stairs and other obstacles.

I really did not get to spend much time with anybody as I was packing and searching the house for the valuables and memories that couldn't be replaced if something should happen to the house now that it's empty (because we all know what a safe city Baltimore is). I think I spent maybe a total of 4 hours with Granny, about 30 minutes with Aunt and a different 30 minutes with Great Uncle. I wish I could have spent more--this is what's left of my family, and I don't really know any of them. To be honest, I don't think I want to know my aunt, but my great uncle is a fascinating man, and I enjoy conversations with him. I find it difficult to spend time with Granny because of what's changed due to her medical issues, but I wish I had had more of an occasion to try with her.

Growing up, I didn't know my family on either side very well--we lived out West and everyone else lived on the East Coast. I knew my paternal grandparents better because they came out West a couple of times a year, but my maternal grandparents came once and then not until I got married. We did go East once or twice a year until I was in high school and then I didn't go any more. Once I graduated high school, I made an effort to go East myself and to see family, but that was only once a year or so. I've always envied those with close extended family. As my in- laws and I can't seem to get along with each other (probably because although we live less than a mile away from each other and my husband and I have been together for going on 9 years, there just hasn't been time to get to know each other--according to my MIL and FIL, it's not that they don't like me, but that they don't know me), it appears that should I ever have children, they won't have an extended family either. I guess it's just really hit hard, and picking through my grandmother's memories hasn't made it any easier.

On a more cheerful note, I did have a chance to visit with my Aunt and Uncle from my father's side of the family. That Aunt and I exchange e-mails every now and then, and I hadn't seen them since my father's father passed away back in 1994. I actually don't know if my Uncle came to the services then, but I don't remember him at all. They are a hoot--think New York, think Italian, and think fun--that explains them. They brought my cousin's baby, their newest grandchild, with them from NY and spent a couple of hours with us in Baltimore. They have invited/encouraged me to visit them at their home in Florida, and if I can figure out when I'll be able to do so, I'd love to see them again. I don't want to lose a chance to get to know any of my family, and other than occasional generic e-mails/Christmas cards, I don't have contact with anyone from my father's family since his parents passed away.

The other thing that keeps sticking out in my mind is that family is not just by blood, and I have been truly blessed to have a number of brothers and sisters by choice. I guess I really do have a large extended family in the ways that matter most--by love.

Priceless

Airline Tickets to Savannah, GA for 2: $780.00

Hotel Stay in Historic District for 6 nights: $700.00

Rental Car (upgraded to a fun Mustang so we can be cool): $300

Trip to the Ocean: $150.00 and counting...

Making Marriage Memories: Priceless

We're finally home, safe and sound and almost in one piece. Savannah is gorgeous, HOT, delicious, scary, fun and expensive! Here's how it went down:

Arrived on Wednesday after a million hours on a tiny plane. Ok, so not a million, but we were on a smaller jet, an "express jet" from Houston to Savannah, and it felt tiny and after the fact that we'd been awake since 3 am Mountain time, it felt like a long trip. I couldn't wait for hubby to see the ocean, so we checked in (score one for the hotel--valet parking is included in the hotel room; score two for the hotel--there was a garden whirlpool tub in the room separate from the bathroom) and I dragged hubby off to Tybee Island. We hit the sand, right before sunset, and I did everything but shove hubby into the Atlantic. It was perfect weather, and we agreed that it stinks that I forgot the camera, but we'd buy a fake-er, disposable, camera and recreate the moment that he saw the ocean for the first time again. We went to a crab shack--neither of us eats crab. In fact, neither of us really cares for seafood at all. I was adventurous, and I had a crab and shrimp Au gratin (still don't like shrimp, and I hate to confess, but I think I prefer imitation crab) while hubby had ribs. We were bit by all sorts of bugs (guess what else I forgot to pack?), so we ended the night with a soak in the garden whirlpool tub watching the boob-tube.

So we were full of energy and ready to hit the streets the next morning. We took a narrated tour on a trolley, and then I again couldn't stand being so close to water and not being in it. Added to that which someone forgot to pack was swimsuits, so off to Walmart we went. And really, what is a vacation without at least one Walmart run? So we grabbed suits, sunscreen and bug spray (see, thinking ahead!) and returned to the beach with ample time to swim and return to clean up for a murder mystery cruise we were booked for that night on the Savannah River. After two hours of frolicking in the waves, swallowing salt water, spotting a shark fin (which it turned out upon closer inspection, was a dolphin! I had no idea they were in the Atlantic! See how deprived we are being so stinking far away from the ocean?)and getting sunburned (80 minutes of continuous coverage is not quite enough for us...who wanted to get out?), we were about to get out when I just wanted to "jump" a few more waves, and in coming down, cut the bejeezers out of my foot on something sharp and excruciatingly painful. I grabbed my foot (almost drowned while trying to sit down in a wave) and hubby helped me to my feet (well, to my foot) as I hobbled up out of the waves leaving a bloody stream on the beach behind me. Hubby thought I was being a baby, but he gave me his beloved Chicago Bear's t-shirt which I bleed through in a bunch of spots, and tried to flag down the Fire/Rescue/Lifeguards that were driving around the beach for a band aid.

Southerners are known for their hospitality, but apparently, Fire/Rescue/Lifeguards are not Southerners, or they haven't been properly instructed that a man waving his arms over his head repeatedly and drawing the attention of other beach goers may need assistance. Good thing nobody was drowning, because they drove by--twice.

We went back to the hotel (not as easy as it sounds because we were trying to keep sand out of the cut but all I had were my flip flops, and hubby left me to soak clean the cut in the tub while he hiked to the CVS to buy band aids. I called my mommy for advice, thinking I needed a tetanus shot (who knows what's in the ocean?), and sympathy, and after she consulted with her nurse, she called me back and told me to go NOW to the Urgent Care for a shot. This began the battle with the insurance companies (this is why both hubby and I carry full insurance on each other--my HMO that covers more in my state wouldn't cover anything other than a full steam emergency in another state, but hubby's insurance said go here and agreed to pay--and gave us numbers of multiple providers in the area), and after some time we headed off into unknown parts of Savannah. Note--this was at 7 pm and our cruise started at 9 pm. We were in evening attire and I was (hoping against hope) carrying my heels as we entered the Urgent Care place.

Sure enough, the doctor wanted a tetanus shot and to clean the wound herself. In doing so, she apparently shocked herself and hubby at the depth of the cut (I know I'm a drama queen, but I'm not that good of a liar, and I was secretly relieved that I was not being over dramatic with the cut). Shocked hubby to the point where the next thing I know, hubby is bumping into the sink and then I realize that he (all 6 feet 4 inches, 250 pounds) is headed directly for the doctor (all 5 foot nothing, maybe 100 pounds) head first. Sure enough, hubby is lying face plant on the floor where he landed so that the doctor was on her rear, holding the tweezers/scalpel thingy in the air and saying "Okay" over and over, like she's reassuring herself. Hubby jerks while he's coming to and looks like he's having a seizure. Nurses and aides are running to the room and I'm trying to pick up equipment that has scattered as hubby went down. I say his name, and hubby looks surprised and says "Ow" in what has to be the understatement of the year. Nurse scrapes him off the floor and puts him in a chair and doctor says to me "it's quite a bit deeper that I thought and I think it's deeper than what he thought" and decides to stitch me up while the nurse attacks hubby with a tetanus shot of his own and ice packs. I think we made quite an impression.

So off we tottered to Target to fill prescriptions for me, and then it was on to dinner--to heck with the cruise. I drove, as who knows what really caused the fall of hubby...we had had a late breakfast and skipped lunch in favor of the ocean, and had only drank maybe a bottle of water between us, so I imagine that dehydration, low blood sugar and sun contributed to the shock of the sight of the inside of my foot. Hubby sports a lovely bruise on one arm and a big cut on the other arm, along with a cut on his lip. I sport a lovely bandage and the inability to walk.

Needless to say, Savannah is a walking town, and we spent the remainder of the trip in a car or on a trolley. Hubby spent a good portion applying creams of wonder to my foot and wrapping my foot, as well as holding me upright as the antibiotic makes me dizzy. I spent a good portion wondering if he would pass out again (the shaking as he came to and the twitching seriously make me freak about a serious problem--and he is still getting searing pains through his head to the point where we made an appointment from the Houston airport for him to go to the doctor) and trying to stand on one foot. For those of you that haven't seen me, I'm too big to imitate a flamingo.

We did do a ghost tour that let us into a house where the Ghost Hunters from the Sci Fi channel show (I know that's not really their real name because hubby keeps muttering TAPS at me, but I don't know what that means), and we were able to take the murder mystery cruise tickets and turn them into a moonlight cruise, which we enjoyed. We saw the Pirate House, which is supposed to be the inspiration for the Pirates of the Caribbean, and attended a murder mystery dinner there. We toured Juliette Gordon Low's home and had a carriage tour of the historic district. We ate at The Lady and Sons (Paula Deen!) and shopped in her store. We toured the oldest African American church in the nation that was built by slaves for slaves and used in the Underground Railroad. We walked River Street. We ate some more. It was a wonderful trip, and a truly memorable trip for more than one reason :)

Now it's back to the real world. Hubby works tomorrow, and I'm trying to stay up to acclimate myself back into the graveyard schedule. Hubby sees the doctor on Friday and I get the stitches out tomorrow...hopefully both will bear good news and we will keep the good memories of Savannah and this will just be a passing laughing memory next year.

Of course, next year, we're thinking of going camping in Utah, so only God knows what will happen there!

Georgia on my Mind

Vacation time is rapidly approaching, and as I'm at work on my day off wishing I was elsewhere, it's totally on my mind!

Every year hubby and I have gone to a different state for our anniversary. When we reach our 50th, we'll have been to all 50 states. What a fun idea--and not one we conjured up on our own. I actually stole it from an attorney that said she and her husband were going to do this--it was around the time of our second anniversary, and so I went home and announced we should be just like So-and-so...fortunately, hubby agreed.

So for the past six years we have gone to various states. Our personal spin on the idea--can't be total posers--was that we'll go some place we haven't been or wouldn't normally go. Our first year didn't really count; my grandfather had recently passed away and we were in Maryland to check on my grandmother and to attend a friend's wedding over our anniversary, so we'd been there before. The second year we went to Pagosa Springs, CO...had a "free" (sit through the resort presentation and stay in the area 2 nights for free) hotel and we're nothing if not thrifty! The third year we were broke, and stayed in NM but rode the Tram in Albuquerque--something neither of us had done. Year four found us in Liberty, KS at the Wizard of Oz Museum...surprising because neither of us just absolutely loved the movie; it was a place I'd wanted to go since I was like 10 because someone I knew went there and it sounded fun. Year five put us alone on a horse ranch in OK (haven't lived until you've watched my husband ride a horse for five days in a row, twice a day). Year six we waited until the last minute and had to break our rule of going somewhere to do something new, so we just went to Vegas (but we stayed in a new hotel and saw things we hadn't before, so that sort of counts, right?). Which brings us to this year.

Because last year we waited until the last minute because we were still pretty rocky, hubby was surfing the net and found ghost tours in Savannah. It was WAY too much money for a last minute ordeal, so we agreed to contact a travel agent and go the following year. After a year of repeatedly hunting down the travel agent (and having her tell us to book everything but the airline tickets ourselves--what a waste of time!), we are set to go. We're taking a mystery cruise, going to Paula Dean's restaurant, driving down the coast to see an island where wild horses roam, taking a ghost tour (if I get off my duff and book it!), and finally, FINALLY, hubby will see an ocean.

How does someone live to be over 30 and not see or swim in an ocean?

Anyway, as previously discussed, I love the south, and I'm sure I'll fall in love with Savannah. If I only make it that far...how is it that Tuesday feels like a million years away?

Cheesecakes and Bikinis

Who goes to The Cheesecake Factory and doesn't eat dessert?

So I joined hubby in Phoenix this past week while he was there in training. I flew out Tuesday after a hurried "clean up the house for the cat sitter who is a 19 years old boy that doesn't care and is only house/cat sitting to get free satellite, food and freedom" frenzy. I seriously slept for like 3 hours and then began to clean the house so I could drive 2 hours and sit in an airport for another 2 hours for an hour long flight. I probably could have driven to Phoenix faster...

Anyway, because hubby was in class all day long, I was left to amuse myself. I swam in the pool at the hotel and slept forever and a day. I spent way too much money (great to have shopping choices!). Of course, no shopping trip is complete without a trip to Build-A-Bear, so my bear, Greggory, now has clothing from Arizona--and I bought him a fireman outfit.

When we travel, we have a rule that we have to eat somewhere that we can't get in Los Alamos or Santa Fe...so when I told our friends K&A that we'd met them for dinner any place that abides by those rules, A told me that she knew that ruled out McDonalds and Sonic, but everywhere else was fine :) So we ate at a Mexican restaurant with K&A...again, we generally avoid Mexican because it's not New MEXICAN, and that can lead to disappointment. However, we really liked the food! We ate at P.F. Changs (which we can now get in Albuquerque), Cold Stone Creamery (they closed the one in Santa Fe...grr!), and then we ate at The Cheesecake Factory.

I think we disappointed the waiter when we didn't really want a big meal. Of course, we were eating at 4:30 because I had to catch the flight home. I was disappointed when I didn't have room for dessert...who goes to this restaurant and doesn't eat dessert?!?! And it's not like there weren't a million choices of cheesecake. It's not like I don't love cheesecake. I've never met a dessert that I don't like--and if I hadn't wanted cheesecake, I could have had one of the many other choices. Instead, we left the restaurant, bought some more books at the book store, and then I went to the airport where I got hungry and had to settle for nasty airport food.

Which reminds me...when did the airlines stop giving out peanuts? When I went to Georgia, we were given stale trail mix. Going to Phoenix I got the standard small cup of flat Diet Coke, but I didn't get peanuts or stale trail mix. You'd think for the bazillion dollars it costs to fly anywhere there would be peanuts.

Final travel thoughts were that I had the pleasure of sitting behind a woman coming from Seattle to Albuquerque. She was sitting next to a man that was visiting New Mexico (I don't know where) for the weekend. I guess he's been here before, because he felt comfortable answering this woman's questions even though he answered incorrectly ("where's Santa Domingo? Isn't that north of Santa Fe?" and he answered "yes" or "aren't there like 4 feast days for the state" and again, he made up an answer). They seemed to become bosom buddies along the way, and I couldn't figure it out until I saw them deplaning...he with his sandals and white socks and straw hat, her with her bikini top blatant under a shell that had fallen off her right shoulder. He met the stereotypical description of most scientists here in my town, and she was the stereotypical free spirit hippie of Santa Fe. It's interesting that when a stranger shows interest in us, we gain confidence and begin to lose the confines of "our" type and just become part of the human race...I doubt he even noticed her bikini top.

I'm in Love with Georgia

Why I love the South:

*Sweet Tea (did you know you can buy the stuff at the store? DON'T DO THAT! It doesn't taste right! Make your own--it's 1 or 2 cups sugar per gallon of tea depending on your taste buds)

*Hospitality (Can they teach classes out west? Maybe I'm a sucker for being called "sweetheart")

*GREEN grass (Heck, grass period! Although I was in Georgia during the biggest drought they have seen in a million years or something like that)

*Etiquette and manners exist (small children telling me "yes ma'am" and men that hold open doors and walk behind the women...not to mention that in a restaurant you get service instead of the feeling that you're inconveniencing someone by expecting drinks or food or whatever)

*BIG DIAMONDS on every married woman's hand. It's amazing...I don't think I've seen so much bling bling in one room. And they are amazingly beautiful rings. I found myself studying hands in airports, restaurants, hotels, malls, everywhere. If we move south, I'm expecting another carat or two :)

Things I don't get about the South

*Small roads with mailboxes sticking out almost over the road (I have no idea how I didn't hit either a mailbox or another car in the oncoming traffic). And almost all the roads in Douglasville, GA seem to loop around. Hard to get too lost there :)

*Slang ("I made a picture" means they took a picture with a camera, "I'll carry you" means they'll drive--not physically carry--you somewhere....I had been exposed to most of these by my dear friends from Alabama, so I didn't look too much like an ass)

*Macho men appear to be very comfortable with their feminine side. Also known as I now longer think Clay Aiken is gay but just a Southern gentleman.

Class was good! I have another national certification under my belt, and I still need at least two more before I can settle and know that I won't have to ever dispatch anywhere but Los Alamos and can still stay in the communications game for emergency services/public safety.

I did fall in love with the part of Georgia I was in, and I did ponder ways to move us there. Other amusing things I saw include that in Douglasville, you can be either Baptist or Baptist. I passed over 10 Baptist churches, and the only other church I found was 1 lonely Church of Christ. I got to eat Hush Puppies--and I haven't had those since I was like eight. YUM! I did not go for the grits--I thought that butter and salt and pepper on the grits was not yummy, but then a classmate said I should have tried butter and sugar, and I suspect I may have liked that. I don't know how anybody stays awake for the nightly news--I was asleep by 10 PM Eastern time, and the news didn't come on until 11 PM.

I have a tendency to pick up accents from wherever I go, and the longer I'm at a place, the longer my accent hangs on. Call me this weekend, and you may get what my family calls the "southern belle" routine. It's not as bad as when I visit Texas, so that may be a blessing, because Texas can be pretty twangy.

My husband must have sensed my admiration for rings while I was away (or he knows I'm so doggone impatient and wanted it right away), because he dutifully picked up the new engagement ring from the jewelers before picking me up. It's a beautiful setting, and when we celebrate our anniversary, he's got some romantic gesture set up for my new wedding band :) I did get the engagement ring to wear NOW, and although the other ring will be completed in August, he is making me wait until September to wear it. Where are we going to celebrate this year? Savannah, Georgia.

I keep hearing male voices outside, and just looked--it's our contractor and a bunch of County guys. We're having a lot of trouble getting our permit approved, so I guess I should go see if I'm supposed to be doing something now that they're outside :) More later, as I thought of a million things to blog while I was away from the computer!

P.s. My clothes were MORE than fine. Whew!

Southwest Fashion

First things first--even our little grocery store that doesn't usually have any fresh produce did have little containers of cut up fruit. I bought one of grapes. Then I bought all the other fruit whole and cut it up all by myself. I'm pretty proud of myself :)

I'm supposed to be sleeping because I'm supposed to have just gotten off work. However, my body had better ideas, and that's a good thing in the whole scheme of things because I need to be packing. I'm headed to Georgia tomorrow for training...and that's a whole 'nother source of tension in the work place ("how come SHE gets to go to out of state training?" One swears there's a secret agenda for me--I think it's called I ask and harass until I get something I really want). Here's the problem with the packing thing: I live in the Southwest and the training is in the East.

Not a big deal, I'm sure you're thinking. And while I am a bit neurotic, I have confirmation from others that it IS a big deal. See, when I attend classes and trainings out here, most people wear jeans. A few wear sweats. Almost all wear t-shirts. During the summer, you might even see shorts. And for some bizarre reason, this is okay, and acceptable. I NEVER wear sweats or t-shirts or jeans to a training...I blame it on my mother. She instilled in me that you dress for success and that you represent something wherever you go. I take a huge amount of pride in representing my department, and therefore, I don't disrespect other agencies by not dressing nicely.

The other dress issue between the East and the Southwest is that what you see on the streets of the Eastern states is what you'll see in New Mexico in like 3 years. We're a bit behind. And then Los Alamos is even further behind...maybe because most cone heads don't really care what they look like (socks with sandals? Seriously, you see that everywhere in town...I did that during the winters in high school...maybe that's why I'm a failure of fashion...and it's a good thing there are still "Family Matters" reruns since a lot of fashion advice apparently comes from Steve Urkel) since it's all about the science.

What I'm freaked over now is that I'm not certain that what I have is dressy enough for the East. For example--I bought these beautiful linen pants with the intention of wearing them to this class in Georgia. I know that they'd be dressed up more than enough for New Mexico. Is linen acceptable in Georgia? I have suits, but let's face it--July is not the best time to be in Georgia. It's going to be a terrible muggy hot when I'm used to a dry hot, and my hair and makeup will already be a nightmare, so to add sweaty nasty marks into my suit jackets (I don't believe that all women glow--I sweat like a man, and the powers that be in the deodorant world allow me not to smell like a man, but I still SWEAT) would be the end of the line. I don't want to be the freak from "Mexico" that speaks English well but can't dress appropriately.

GRR.

So keep your fingers crossed that I don't create some sort of catastrophe this week. There will be a big enough mess at work awaiting my return.