Journey & Adventure

My son departed for his Alaskan cruise on Saturday. Although he is being chaperoned by the family of his best friend, it was still tough dropping him off at the airport knowing he would be facing a lot of first on-his-own (or at least not with me). Although he will be 17 on Thursday, he’s still my baby boy and I struggled with letting him go. Keeping in mind he is a 17 year old boy and knowing his attention span can be rather short, I worry about things like - How will he manage to maneuver airport security? How long will it be before he loses his passport, wallet, backpack or new camera (again)? Will he remember to pick up his suitcase before he departs the airport? Will the customs officials even let him into the United States or will they think he has been abducted by the family he is travelling with? Will the family he is travelling with remember he is travelling with them? Although they are responsible, they are very disorganized and I can easily imagine this turn...

I’ve been thinking about going to the beach this weekend. Ahhh the beach – warm sun, warm water, fresh air and sand…lots and lots of sand. If it weren’t for the sand, the beach could almost replace Walt Disney World as the happiest place on earth; however the sand that encompasses the shoreline of the lakes, oceans and rivers and makes up the thing known as the “Beach” is unbearable to me. I strongly dislike sand. I particularly dislike the feeling of dried-on sand between my toes. You know what I mean – after you’ve been swimming and need to walk across the sand to your beach towel (Water + Sand = Crusty Toes). Ughhh… When I was much lighter younger, I was successfully able to charm my then boyfriend (now husband) into sweeping me off of my feet and carrying to my awaiting throne beach towel without so much as a grain of sand touching my tootsies. Now realistically, I am well aware that a hormonal teenage boy would do just about anything with the thought of getting laid being a...

Sadly, I have become aware of a rise in incidents of suicide. Perhaps it is because of the economy, massive job losses, rising cost of gasoline, high divorce rate or the unbearable grief from the death of MJ. What drives someone to become so distraught, they believe the only way out is death? Do th ey not stop to think of the ones left behind? Regardless of their reason, my car has become a vessel of death to for rodents and birds alike and I have become the Grim Reaper. At least once a week I am left feeling like a murderess bitch because some little critter decided enough was enough. Believe me - I do try to spare them their lives. I swerve, I slam on my brakes – all while closing my eyes and bracing for the inevitable “th-thump” under my tires which happens when Chip or Dale are just too slow in their dash to greener pastures or when a feathered friend decides to kamikaze into my grill. Today was no exception; I was driving along on my morning...

How does anyone expect me to work on my blog, if they keep giving me work to do? I have a blog to manage people, can you please come back and give me work later? Work is hectic today, so today's post is limited to a photo (o.k, it's my husband's photo) from one of our travels...

The lovely Renée tagged me to do this meme! Here goes! My apologies for the formatting - damn Blogger.. The Rules Respond and rework: Answer the questions on your blog, replace one question that you dislike with a question of your invention, add one more question of your own. Tag 8 other people. The Questions What is the thing that makes you happy? Vacations, travel, adventure, being busy. Coffee or tea? Coffee in the morning, but I’m trying to kick the habit. I also enjoy spearmint tea in the afternoon. What’s for dinner? Last night, I had beef tortellini with alfredo sauce, red peppers and fresh tomatoes. What was the last thing you bought ? A pair of pants from the GAP for my son. What are you listening to right now? The hum of the air conditioning unit over my cubicle. What is your favorite piece of clothing in your own wardrobe? My red plaid sleep pants and my “live to dive” t-shirt . What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Hmmm, I don...

As my Monday begins, my mind begins to wander. O.K. to be honest, it doesn’t really wander - it takes a vacation from reality. Shocking, isn’t it? As with most of my daydreams, I’m soon thinking about things like winning the lottery, quitting my job, buying a boat, travelling the world, but not necessarily on the boat I purchase, buying a vacation home and before I know it, I’m contemplating the need for a vacation. Did someone mention a vacation? Oh wait …that was me… First, let me say this is not a paid (or solicited) promotion, but I am willing to accept any kickbacks that may come my way. You too can have your product or service featured (especially if I like what you’re offering)…LOL Seriously, if you happen to find yourself in need of an extraordinary Caribbean holiday and let’s face it, we all NEED a Caribbean holiday, my new virtual friend Ann will assist you with all of your travel arrangements and believe me - she has first ...

I went to Home Depot on my lunch hour (or two) to buy some stain for my deck. Can you guess what I’ll be doing this weekend? I don’t know why I insist on punishing myself, but you should know that I loathe Home Depot. There is something about that store that gives me the overwhelming urge to use my cart as a battering ram and I can’t quite figure out why. Is it because the store is so cluttered, with 80% of the stuff being located on shelves over my head? Is it because I can find what I’m looking for 80% of the time or could it be that when I ask for assistance, I’m made to feel inferior to the old male chauvinist assisting me? Most likely, it’s a combination of everything I’ve just mentioned, plus the whole self-serve checkout process that doesn’t work 80% of the time and it ends up taking me longer than if I had waited in the cashier line. Why I am punished for wanting to be self-sufficient? To hell with you Home Depot… The security alarm has been screeching here at work for ...