Decisions...

Wheehee!!!

I am officially on vacation.  For twelve whole days. We are getting ready to head to Colorado and South Dakota and I can't wait. 

Alaska

My parents' fortieth anniversary is in January.  To celebrate, they decided to take an Alaskan cruise.  It won't be until May because, unsurprisingly, there aren't any cruises to Alaska in the dead of winter as it would be a bit nippy.  I was super jealous and asked if I could go.  "No.  It's not your anniversary."  "Don't they have a family pass or something."  "No."  "Well, what if you die before May?  Can I have your ticket?"  "No."  Well, I guess I stuck out the bottom lip and gave them the puppy dog eyes enough that they decided to check into how much a ticket for me would cost.  Parents are so ridiculous. 

They stopped by the travel agency and asked.  The travel agent called the cruise line and asked and, miracle of all miracles, during the month of August they were running a special and the third passenger sails free.  For FREE.  (Technically $250 because of taxes.  Always have to pay the taxes.)

Next May, I am going to Alaska!!!  I never never in a million years ever thought that I'd get to see Alaska.  We don't have a fancy room.  I think ours is actually down in the bilge next to the boiler room but, whatever, I'm on an Alaskan cruise.

We're sailing on Norwegian Cruise Line and we'll be on the Norwegian Pearl.  I am so excited I might poop.

Money

My shadow box is coming along nicely.  There are some twenties in there!!

I am so proud of myself.  Today we hiked TWICE.  Like, in a row. We made one trip to the end and turned around and did it again.  That's four miles of difficult terrain.  It's the best I've ever done and I am still feeling it.  By the time we got back to the car, my legs were done.  Stick a fork in 'em cause they are done. 

I'm trying so so very hard to get in shape for Great Britain.  I know, I know.  I need to do it for my health *sigh*, but honestly it's for England.  And the cute clothes.  We're riding Clydesdales when we get there and I really do not want to have to strap two of the things together to be able to ride:)  So I'm saving all I can and I'm busting my butt to get in shape.  Come hell or high water, I am going to Great Britain and I am going to ride a Clydesdale. 

Shadowboxes

Check out my new most coolest thing ever:

It's a shadow box I got from Hobby Lobby.  I put a picture of what I want mostest in the world, cut a coin slot in the top and use it to save money.  I'm so excited about it.  Now, I know that a shadowbox isn't big enough to hold enough money for a European vacation, but it will hold enough for spending money.  I have one for England ( Cotswolds ) and one for Scotland ( Loch Ness ).

Hotels

I love travel shows.  Rick Steves is my all time favorite, but I'll watch any of them.  I like Rick Steves because he speaks my language.  He's just a regular guy who does regular guy stuff.  His shows and travel guides focus on European travel on a budget.  My buddy Rick knows that very few people have limitless resources.  Most people, present company included, are flat ass broke and have to travel on a budget.  Rickie gets that. 

I was watching Rudy Maxa the other day.  I don't particularly care for him, what with his arrogance and stupid little sweater knotted about his neck.  I watch it for the scenery, which sounds an awful lot like "I only look at Playboy for the articles."  Well, this episode he was in Italy, around Milan and Lake Como.  (I HAVE to go there some day)  Whilst in Lake Como, he stayed at the Villa d'Este.  It comes highly recommended by Rudy who just couldn't say enough about it.  No kidding.  It's a huge castle-fortress-estate right on the shores of Lake Como.  Topiaries, water fountains, mountain views, shiny marble everywhere.  Yeah, it's awesome.  I went on their website to "book a room."  It took me about six or seven tries to even find a room that was available, but I finally found one.   Their crappiest room, which is probably next to the elevator and across from the ice machine, starts at $800 a night.  It goes up to about $3000.  Kiss my ass, $800 a night.

I know of no one that can afford that.  It's almost insulting, in a way.  I watched that whole program, staring slacked jawed and starry eyed at things that I will never see in person.  Apparently there is Rudy Maxa's Italy and then there is my Italy and they are not the same.

To be fair, he was in Milan and I assume there are not a lot of budget accommodation options.  Everyone who is in  Milan can afford to be there, which is why I've never been.  And will probably never be.                                 

                                                      Villa d'Este--Highly recommended

 

 

 

 

 

 

My usual accomodations

Baffled

There are some things that just baffle me.  For instance--Mom and I are planning a trip to South Dakota this fall.  There is a hotel in the Black Hills, KBars Lodge, which came highly recommended by friends who had been there.  They said some of the rooms come with a small balcony that faces Mt Rushmore.  Can you imagine walking out onto your balcony and seeing Mt Rushmore???  So I checked into it and found a room with two beds and the all important balcony.  Before I even checked the price I clicked on "photos" to see what the view was like.  NO pictures of Mt Rushmore.  There were pictures of the room (pretty standard), pictures of the bed and TV.  We all know what a hotel room looks like.  I've seen a bed and pillows and TVs.  I've seen lamps and alarm clocks.  I've not seen Mt Rushmore.  Get this---there was a closeup photo of a Keurig coffee maker.  A picture of a Keurig, but no picture of Mt Rushmore.  Why, I ask you?!?  Why???

I'm not going all the way to South Dakota to brew a fresh cup of Colombian Extra Bold.  I don't care about their fluffy pillows.  Neither does anyone else.  We are going to that particular hotel to sit on the balcony and look at Mt Rushmore.  Whoever is in charge of marketing needs fired, tout de suite.

Reminiscing

Mom and I went for a walk last night and we got to reminiscing about a trip we had taken a year or two ago.  Lake Tahoe and northern California, I do believe.  We both hate to drive, so we brought along my brother to chauffeur.  That was his one and only job.  Plus, Mom had broken her hand a couple of weeks before so she needed a little extra help from time to time. 

We were somewhere in northern California, trying to find the Avenue of the Giants, when we came up on a gas station / convenience store in the middle of nowhere.  We had spent half an hour going up a mountain and had no idea where we were.  We weren't on any map.  I looked.  As soon as we get there, my brother bolts from the car.  No idea where he's going.  Mom and I go inside this store, which looked like someplace you really wouldn't want to be on your own.  Very remote and backwoodsy.  It's nearly lunch time, so we go up to the counter at the tiny little deli and tell the worker girl that we'd like some sandwiches.  She says "Did you take a number?"  We look around the store.  We're the only people there.  "No.  We didn't take a number."  "Well, you have to take a number" she says.  Fine.  We turn around at the ticket getting post, which is right next to where we were standing and  get numbers 1, 2, and 3. We hand the numbers to the worker lady, who hadn't moved.  To this day, I'm not sure why we had to have numbers.  Rules is rules, I guess.

We ordered  a sandwich for my brother, who still hadn't resurfaced.  I got a sandwich and Mom got a bowl of chili.  Seriously.  At a gas station in the middle of nowhere, she orders a bowl of chili.  We walk back outside and find Robby, who tells us he had gotten car sick and just threw up behind the store.  He was sick as a dog.  Trouble is, we had gone the wrong way, so now we had to go back down the same mountain that made him sick. 

Being the nice person that I am, I offered to drive so he could lie down in the back seat.  We had to take our food with us since there was no place to eat at the gas station and, frankly, we wanted to shag ass out of there.  So we load up back in the car, Robby passes out in the back seat and we take off.  Mom tries to get a spoonful of chili, with her broken hand, somehow manages to twirl the spoon and flicks chili all over the car.  She looked over at me with the most annoyed look on her face and says "Well, how am I supposed to eat chili with a broken hand???" as if it were somehow my fault.  Beats me. Shouldn't have ordered chili.  I'm not even sure how she did it.  Even with a broken hand, one should not flick chili everywhere.   

Again, being the nice person that I am, I let mom have my sandwich and I took her chili.  So I have to drive down this mountain, full of switchbacks and hairpin turns, whilst trying to eat a bowl of chili one handed.  And I'm not even supposed to be driving.  Our chauffeur was dry heaving in the back seat.  

We did finally make it to the Avenue of the Giants and it was well worth it.  They are spectacular.  And just so's you know, at Lake Tahoe, Mom orders some sort of weird Asian soup for lunch.  Soup they serve with chopsticks.  She can't use chopsticks, even without a broken hand.  Much like the chili, it was a failure, so I ended up getting weird Asian soup for lunch and she got my awesome sandwich.  Quit ordering soup!!!  

Day 2

Day Two started out in Charleston, SC.  I'd never been.  It was not quite what I was expecting, but it was nice.  The trees were all big and mossy and the people were so polite.  Everyone is so nice down there, and it seemed genuine.  We took a plantation tour first thing, to Boone Hall Plantation.  It is still a working plantation (no slaves). They grow every kind of fruit and vegetable imaginable.  We took a tour of the main house, but only the bottom floor since it is still a private residence.  They had nine tiny brick buildings, which were the original slave quarters.  They said sometimes up to three families lived in each building.  I don't see how.  They have a tram ride around the property, which was really fun.  We got to see all the farm ground, swamp land and polo ponies.  They have polo ponies! 

Next was a general tour of Charleston's historic district.  There is historic stuff everywhere in Charleston.  Tons of historic homes and buildings, and quite a few of history's prominent people are from Charleston.  And they are proud of them.  We got to see Ft Sumpter, where the first shot of the Civil War was fired, but we didn't go inside.  Rainbow Row was fun.  They do love color. 

We ate dinner at a local favorite, Jestine's Café.  Fried chicken, grits, fried green tomoatoes (neither of which I'd had before).  The bus driver said that Jestine's Café is traditional Southern comfort food.  The fried chicken was the best I'd ever had.  Grits are okay, kind of a big nothing.  Fried green tomatoes are gross.  Just my opinion.  And I got a Cheerwine to drink.  I'd never heard of it.  It's a soft drink, just like a Coke but it tastes like half Cherry Coke and half Dr Pepper.  It was actually really good.  The waitress said Cheerwine can only be found in the South, so I had to get it.

That night we took a cemetery tour, which was my favorite.  We walked all over several pre-Revolutionary War graveyards.  Trivia---what's the difference between a graveyard and a cemetery?  A graveyard is attached to a church, a cemetery is not.  I didn't know that.  Anyhoodle, we heard tons of really interesting stories and saw some beautiful graveyards.  Apparently, back in the day, they really did (accidentally) bury people alive.  Poor fellers looked dead and doctors were afraid to touch them, so they were buried.  Just a little prematurely sometimes.  It was really fun.

They're not all winners

Not every travel experience is a good one.  We've had a few duds, mostly due to personal preference.  There was nothing wrong with the places I didn't care for, I just didn't care for them.  If that makes any sense.   I am not a city person.  If I could leave on a two week vacation and never see another person, well, that would just be all right.  I like nature.  Mountains, beaches, deserts.  I'm not big on anything that attracts a lot of people.  Museums, plays, musicals, sporting events, festivals. If it's got a lot of crowds or noise, I'm not interested.   Just my personal preference, but here are a few that I thought sucked:

#4 Yosemite--This one was disappointing.  Yosemite was completely underwhelming.  There is only one road through, and no scenic pull offs, that we could find.  You can't see anything from the road, aside from Half Dome, which we didn't even know was there.  We saw a bunch of cars pulled over, so we pulled over, because there must be something interesting there.  We were pulled off for a few minutes before we even realized it was Half Dome.  If you're a hard core backpacker or hiker, which we are not, Yosemite probably has much more to offer.  You just can't see it from the car.  Vacation time is limited, so we don't have as much time as we'd like to have.  If we'd had a couple of days in Yosemite, I'm sure it would have been better.  Maybe once you get inside the park there is a lot more to see.  And, FYI, there is no ranger station or information inside the park.  I hated that, because I collect magnets from all the places I visit and I didn't get one from Yosemite:(

#3 Gatlinburg, TN--Gatlinburg is popular with a lot of my coworkers, but, for the life of me, I can't figure out why.  That place sucks.  It is sooo touristy.  Cheap souvenir shops everywhere, an amusement park and a whole bunch of other stuff I don't care about.  We went because the Smoky Mountains were on our 100 Places, but naturally the park was closed for maintenance.  So we didn't get to see the Smoky Mountains.  Just Gatlinburg. I left on vacation with a pocket full of souvenir money, and came home with ninety percent of it.  I couldn't even find anything to spend money on. And I can always find stuff to spend money on.  No problem.

#2 Anywhere in Florida--Again, popular with the coworkers.  I'm going to get lynched, but I just plain don't like Florida.  Way too hot.  Way too many people.  The beaches aren't pretty.  I've been to the Keys, Sanibel Island and the Everglades.  Didn't care for any of it, although, the air boat tour of the Everglades was awesome.  I'd do that every day.  Sanibel Island is ridiculously crowded.  Shoulder to shoulder people and bumper to bumper traffic.  It was on the 100 Places, but I'm not entirely sure why.  I think because of the shells, but I'm not putting up with the crowds for a handful of tiny shells.  At the risk of sounding like a snob, Florida might be awesome if you've never been anywhere else. A bold statement but, A) it's my blog and B) I'm a snob.

#1 New Orleans, LA--I hate to be crass, but I feel I must be blunt on this one.  New Orleans is the biggest shit hole I've ever been in.  It's a nightmare beyond description.  When we got there, we took a taxi to our hotel on St Anne St, in the French Quarter.  It looked like a back alley, the likes of which hookers and drug dealers would shy away from.  It was dirty.  Buildings had crumbled onto the sidewalks.  There was exposed wiring everywhere (there are either no building codes, or they're simply not enforced). The taxi lady says all chipper like "Ok, we're here!"  and I remember thinking "We're where?"  There was no hotel, just a door.  (Oddly enough, the hotel was really nice.  It was like that tent in Harry Potter where you walk inside and it's all huge and stuff.  Magic.)  New Orleans is filthy.  There are puddles where there shouldn't be puddles, as it wasn't raining.  Strippers hang out in the streets at two o'clock in the afternoon-on a Thursday.  The homeless are everywhere.  The Café DuMond, which is the most famous restaurant in New Orleans was the second biggest shit hole I've ever been in.  It's dirty and run by a bunch of Vietnamese.  I don't know what I thought the Café DuMond was going to be, but Presidents have eaten there.  It was the first business reopened after Katrina, by order of the governor, I think.  It was not what I thought it was going to be.  We were there three years after Katrina, and it looked much the same as it did immediately after.  I'd be willing to bet it looks the same now.  We took a Katrina tour---most depressing two hours of my life.  I went to bed that night with the worst headache I've ever had.  Money and vacation time are both in short supply and I thought I'd wasted them both.  However, once you get past the initial shock, New Orleans can be fun.  It's unique.  And I think it's the uniqueness that landed New Orleans a spot in the 100 Places book.  We took a swamp tour, which was a lot of fun, and a plantation tour.  Both were well worth it.  I will never forget the street musicians. There was one guy, outside the Café DuMond playing the trombone and I'd be willing to bet everything I own that the day we saw him was the first day he'd picked it up.  He was terrible, he was having fun and he was making bank.  That guy was a genius. He was making more money than me at something he sucked at.

Travels

I love to travel.  I'll go anywhere.  Every destination is an experience, a chance to learn something new.  New cultures, new food (but I'm not that much of an adventurous eater).  My mom and I have made a pact, that every time we go somewhere new, we will only eat at places we've never been.  No McDonalds, Subway, Pizza Hut.  Fast food is okay, as long as it is something that we can't get around here.  It's fun, and challenging.  I was thinking today about my favorite travels.  Places that I would go to again and again.  So here are my top five, so far:

#5   The Alamo, San Antonio TX---This one is surprising.  I thought it would be lame, and I only went because my mom was had a meeting in Dallas, so it would be easy to get there.  Honestly, the only reason I went was to mark it off my 100 Places to See list.  But---it was awesome.  The building itself is very nondescript and easy to overlook.  We walked right past it without realizing.  San Antonio has been built up around the Alamo and it is absolutely criminal.  The Alamo is nearly invisible, surrounded by souvenir shops, tie died t-shirt shops and places to get cheap jewelry.  Criminal.  The Chapel and Long Barracks are all that remain.  It is worth a trip down there, though.  You can stand where the battle took place. The Long Barracks houses a small, but wonderful museum full of weaponry, uniforms, currency and photos from the battle.  I was surprised, but the Alamo has consistently been on the short list.  It's a very emotional site, and I would encourage anyone who visits to study up on the battle before going.

Chapel at the Alamo

#4 Bryce Canyon, Utah---Bryce Canyon is an anomaly.  There is nowhere else like it in the world.  The Amphitheater is the most famous landmark, and with good reason.  It's bowl shaped and full of what they call hoodoos.  Stalagmite looking things.  I really can't even describe them.  But it's weird and beautiful.  Ed Note: Watch out for the cops in the little town called Hatch.  Cost me $95.00.

Bryce Canyon Amphitheater

#3 New England, VT NH and ME---The Green and White Mountains are beautiful, especially on the VT/NH border.  Maine is in a class by it's own.  Maine is, in my opinion, the one state that has it all together.  It's beautiful just to look at, Portland is a fabulous town, Freeport is FULL of stores (and L.L. Bean!) and the coast is unrivaled.  I could spend a lot of time, and money, there.

Cape Elizabeth, ME

Bailey Island, ME

Acadia Nat'l Park, ME

#2  Pacific Northwest, OR and WA---The Pacific Northwest has been my favorite vacation, on the whole.  I loved it there.  I loved everything about it.  The famous Oregon coast (which is public land), Crater Lake (which has the absolute worst road.  Terrifying) and the Lewis and Clark Trail.  Washington is amazing.  San Juan islands, Hoh Rainforest (it is actually a rain forest) beaches full of driftwood and Mt Rainier, which I didn't get to see.  That is for another post, entitled "The Time I was so Disappointed I Wanted to Kill Myself."

San Juan Islands, WA

Kalaloch Beach, WA

Hurricane Ridge, Olympic Nat'l Park WA
See the hikers??

#1 Grand Tetons, WY---I can scarcely believe there is a place in the United States as beautiful as the Tetons.  They are beyond description.  I would look at pictures, before we left, and think to myself "There is no way it looks like that."  Well, it does.  They're breathtaking.  Jenny Lake and Jackson Lake are beautiful and Mormon Row is an absolute must see.  The Chapel of the Transfiguration is still in use.  The alter of the chapel is a giant window overlooking the Tetons.

Grand Tetons, from Signal Mountain

Leeks Marina
Great Pizza

Mormon Row

Horses at Mormon Row

So those are my top five, so far. 



 

 

 

 

The Subway

I am not a stupid person.  I have my faults, sure.  But stupidity is not one of them.  I'm college educated.  I have a great deal of common sense and decent reasoning and problem solving skills.  But if there is one thing on earth that can make me feel stupid, it's the subway.  Any subway.  I'm from a small town.  The nearest city is St Louis and it's over two hours away.   Trying to get anywhere on a subway is the most baffling experience.  I always feel like such a dumb ass.  I live in a town where I can (nearly) run to Wal-Mart, buy some paper towels, come home and make some coffee all during a commercial break.  It's a very small town with no need for public transportation.  Buses, subways and taxis are completely foreign to me.

My mom and I are in Chicago for the weekend and, of course, we are using public transportation.  I'm feeling good about it, because after five years of travel, I have finally (kind of) gotten the hang of subways.  You get the card at the little kiosk thing.  Stick the card in the turnstile thing then pick your subway.  ***there are two sets of problems with subways.  the card and then the actual subway***  This particular day I'm feeling confident.  I've got this.  I'm on it.  I even tell Mom that I've gotten it figured out.  I tell her to watch me walk up to the kiosk and put money on the card like a pro.  Watch me, I says.  

We walk downstairs to the subway and I STRUT, we'll call it strut, to the kiosk.  I get my subway card out.  I get ready to put the card in the kiosk and this little old lady saddles up next to me.  She's about four feet tall, maybe seventy years old.  I can tell she is completely bewildered.  She needs help.  "Sorry lady", I think to myself, "I have to concentrate".  So I turn back to Mom and ask her if she can find a transit worker to help this poor (stupid idiot) lady.  I look at her with pity because it must be sooo awful to be so stupid.  Really, it must hurt.  Me, I'm not stupid.  I've got it figured out.  I'm a boss at subways.

Back to the business at hand, I stick the card in the little slot.  The machine kicks it out.  I stick the card in the machine again.  Again, it gets kicked out.  I do this seven or eight more times.  I stick it in, the machine kicks it out.  Over and over.  

By now the transit worker has helped the poor (stupid idiot) lady with her subway ticket.  I can't take it anymore so I turn back to Mom and I say "Why isn't this working???"  

The transit worker looks at me, with pity, and says "Because that's your room key."  I look down and, sure enough, I'm holding the key to room 414 of the Hilton on Michigan Ave.  I had repeatedly--repeatedly--stuck my hotel room key in the subway token kiosk.  

So, I check my pocket, find my subway token and put it in the kiosk.  Worked like a charm.  I heard that lady laughing as she walked away.  I'm sure I made the Chicago subway Christmas newsletter that year.  I was mortified, and not just because I tried to add money to my room key, but because I was so confident, so sure I had it figured out.  I looked down on the little old lady who asked me for help.  I rolled my eyes at her, judged her, because she was too dumb to get a subway token.  At least she was smart enough to not use a room key.  So, on that day, I got my ass handed to me.  By karma? Life?  Who knows.  But I DO know that I will never be that cocky and arrogant again.  I kept my subway token.  I taped it into my travel journal.  Every time I see it, I just laugh and laugh.  It serves as a good reminder to not get too big for your britches, as my dad says.

That is exactly what I looked like walking up to the machines.  That is not what I looked like walking away...

Tahoe

Ruts are easy to get stuck in.  You're not happy with your life, but somehow unable to change it.  So you dig yourself a nice, safe little rut. Every day is the same as the day before, which will be the same as the day after.  It's easy and it's safe.  Secure.  So that's where you stay.  In an effort to hoist myself out of my rut, I started seeing a therapist.  She suggested I start to travel, in an effort to broaden my horizons.  I needed to learn that the world was a big place.  There is lots to see and do.  And, in order to see it, I had to get out of my comfort zone and expand my thinking.   So I decided to give it a whirl and my first trip was to be Lake Tahoe.  I'd seen pictures and it looked beautiful.

I live in southern Illinois, which is flat flat flat.  Tahoe is in the mountains, which are not flat.  I knew I'd need to get in shape before we left or I'd never make it, as we are not mountain people.  We're not used to it.  So my mom and I started hiking at a local park.  Local being thirty miles away.  Whatevs.  It's hilly, by our standards, and it was the closest thing we could find to a mountain.  So we started hiking.  We hiked and hiked up and down these hills to try to get in shape.  And we did.   We were so proud.  We kicked hill ass.  We were stronger, faster. 

I had never flown before Tahoe.  I'd heard stories about airplanes and terrifying stories about airplane seats.  They're tiny. Tiny tiny tiny.  I was beyond worried about the airplane.  I am, above all other things, a worrier.  I was terrified.  In an effort to assuage my worry, I decided it would be prudent to get the deets on airplanes.  So I googled airplanes.  (I am an excellent Googler.  If it's out there, I can find it).  From my plane ticket, I googled the actual plane in which we would be flying.  I found the dimensions, inside and out, of that plane.  I found the dimensions of the aisle, seat width, depth, leg room, all of it.  ( I would be willing to bet money I'm on some sort of terrorist watch list from all the airplane googles ). 

Airplane seats are, roughly, sixteen inches wide.  Sixteen.  I nearly threw up.  But it can't be that bad, I thought.  So I found a yard stick, put it across my chair and sat down.  My butt is wider than sixteen inches.  By a good margin.  And that is when the panic truly set it.  And it was a panic.  I honestly thought I wouldn't be able to fit in the seat.  I'd sit down and just sit across the top of the seat and not actually sit in it.  I had visions that I would be jettisoned off the plane from 30,000 feet because the plane was overweight.  That was a stretch, even I knew that.  But I really did think I would be singled out, in front of a plane full of passengers.  They would, sickeningly politely, of course, ask me to deplane because their stupidly tiny seats could not accommodate me. 

I was terrified.  Absolutely terrified.  The day before we left, we were going to give it one last good hike.  The whole hike, as hard as we could go, so we'd feel confident when we landed in Tahoe.  I made it fifty feet into the woods.  That's it.  No lie.  I ran out of gas in fifty feet and had to turn around and go back.  I couldn't do it.

But we pressed on.  I made myself get on the plane, and miracle of all miracles, no one singled me out.  I fit in the seat.  I wasn't jettisoned at 30,000 feet.  I was just like everyone else.  Boring, really.

We land in Reno and my mom drives and I navigate (she can't navigate worth a crap).  I remember driving through Reno and pulling up to the road that takes you to Lake Tahoe.  And that's it.  I remember nothing else.  My mind had, I guess, completely checked out.  I don't remember the drive, the hotel, nothing.  Mom said I was repeating myself the whole trip.  I was pointing out things several times.  If I saw something I thought was funny I'd point it out, more than once, as if I'd never seen it before.  We have pictures.  It's like I'm looking at someone else's vacation.  I have pictures of restaurants in which we dined.  Restaurants I would swear under oath I've never seen before.  She showed me a picture at a restaurant and couldn't believe that I couldn't remember it.  Apparently a lady came up to me and told me I had pretty hair.  Maybe she did.  I don't know.  I don't remember.  And that is a terrible feeling. 

The stress was so overwhelming I just shut down.  I was awake, talking, apparently enjoying my vacation.  But I don't remember it.  I have no recollection of Lake Tahoe.  Thankfully it's only happened the one time.  After that, while still unhappy with the absurdly undersized airplane seats, I know that I'll get on the plane and fly just like everyone else.  Travel is stressful, for anyone, but I was well past my capacity.  Bodies and minds are fascinating.  I physically and mentally shut down in an effort to protect myself.  I learned a lot that trip.  Not during the trip itself, but in the lead up and aftermath.  Nothing that I had made myself sick over actually happened.  None of it.  And I had ruined my first vacation.  A little stress can be okay.  Everyone has stress, but I let it take over.  And nothing good came of it.

Pretty accurate, I'd say
 

  

The Palm

Let me preface by saying---I am not a city person.  I was born and raised in the country.  "Going to town" was a big deal, even though "town" consisted of 5,000 people.  I feel horribly awkward and out of place in the city.  Everyone seems so sophisticated in their suits and shiny shoes and $750 purses.  Well, the last few years I have accompanied my parents (my dad is Mayor) and the City Attorney and his wife on business trips to Washington D.C.  For dinner one night, we went to The Palm.  Super fancy-pants, for me, anyway.  Everyone was dressed up, drinking expensive wine, and somehow managing to NOT dribble food on their expensive suits.  If ever there was a place for me to feel unworthy, it would be The Palm.

I tried my best to fit in and did pretty well, I thought.  I had a glass of wine (hated it) and a Manhattan (hated it). I didn't slop food anywhere and I conducted myself with a great deal of refinement.  After coffee we get up to leave and I proudly stride towards the exit.  For some stupid reason, everyone in our party decided to follow my lead out of the restaurant. 

It's very twisty and turny inside The Palm and I thought I was headed toward the exit.  I walk past this loooong table full of, what I can only assume to be, international diplomats.  Fancy pants people.  I am vaguely aware, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I'm no longer being followed.  But I continue on until I realize there is nowhere else to go.  I had walked right up to a glass wall.  There was no exit.  I had somehow wandered into a private party, being held in a private room.  With no other exit.  I turned around to find about twenty fancy pants international diplomats staring at me.  There was nothing I could do but walk past the table full of suits--again.  I wanted so badly to clap my hands and say in my most authoritative voice "May I have your attention please.  How are we on drinks?  Does anyone need more water?  No?  Thank you!"  Instead I just slunk past them, nodding and smiling to them as I walked by.  "How are you this evening?  The shrimp looks delicious.  I love your top!!!", I say. Of course my parents were standing outside that room laughing their asses off.  Why didn't someone grab the back of my shirt when they saw me going in there???  Maybe it's all their fault. Wasn't my fault. After all, it's incredibly dark inside fancy restaurants. Turn on some damn lights!!!

It was awful.  Not really because I was embarrassed, even though I was really embarrassed.  I think it was because I had just proved to myself that I didn't really belong there.  I couldn't even find the exit in The Palm.   And twenty international diplomats all knew I was out of place.  I'm sure they laughed at me.  They did.  I know it. 

Have you ever thoroughly embarrassed yourself and then had to do a walk of shame past the same people you just embarrassed yourself in front of?  All you can do is smile and nod and hope like hell they were all too drunk to remember.

As embarrassing as that episode was, it paled in comparison to the humiliation I suffered at the hands of the Chicago Subway.  Yikes.

Travel

I love travel.  I will go anywhere.  There is always something new to learn, see, do.  No matter where you go.  I started my travels in 2009, I think, on the advise of my therapist.  I was stuck in a rut, of my own making, and she thought it would be a good idea for me to get out and broaden my horizons.  She was dead on .  My mom is my travel buddy and we started with Lake Tahoe, in the fall of 2009.    It was an absolute disaster, but we'll save that for another day.

I found a Time Life book shortly after, called "100 Places to see in Your Lifetime".  There are one hundred locations, all in the States, that the editors of Time thought everyone should see.  So that is my goal.  To see all one hundred.  I'm up to about forty five now, I think.  My book is currently at the book binders getting some much needed repairs.  We try to take maybe two or three trips a year, keeping my list in mind.  The list is so interesting, as the places are extremely varied.   There are some, like the Grand Canyon and the Tetons, where it is clear why it made the list.  Then there are others-Wrigley Field-where I can't really figure out why I'm there.  Clearly the editors of Life thought it was awesome, but I have a hard time seeing it.

I've been from the Maine Coast to Big Sur, CA.  San Juan Islands in WA to Sanibel Island, FL.  Washington DC, Oregon, Rhode Island.  I've been all over and I love it.

One of my most prized possessions is my travel journal.  If my house were to catch fire, I'd grab the boys and my travel journal.  I take it on every trip.  I write down where I went, where we ate, interesting facts about that particular location, souvenirs I bought.  I try to get a post card of every location for my journal.  I've put in receipts, drink coasters, bumper stickers, coins, ticket stubs.  It is so fun to sit down and read through it.  I remember things that I had forgotten. I'm so grateful I had it written down or I would have never remembered.  I would highly encourage anyone who travels to get a journal.  To me, it's priceless.