A while ago I posted this post. Nobody answered, so I posted it again here. Feel free to add questions at any time. They're fun to answer!
Today's question: Hot Tub Lizzy asked "What's your dream vacation? Have you taken it already?"
Answer: Hawaii and No. I will get there before I die, though.... I promise I will. I did, however, go on a pretty kick-a** honeymoon cruise. You want to hear all about it? Well, OK, if you insist.....
For our honeymoon, in FEBRUARY, when the weather in Ohio was in the negatives, the Hubs and I went on a carribean cruise. If you've never done that before, I HIGHLY SUGGEST IT! We had a ton of fun and learned a bit along the way. Some quick lessons:
1. The hubs is way too tall to fly coach (he's 6'4''. I'm 5'2''. My tall girlfriends hate me)
2. Those shore excusions are way overpriced.
3. People in the islands drive like they're insane. Seriously. I thought I was going to toss my cookies while riding sardine style in a tour bus.
4. Even though they have something going on every single minute of ever single day you're on the ship, it's ok to check out for an hour or 3 every afternoon and take a nap.
5. It's also OK to order everything on the menu at dinner just to taste it. Especially when it comes to dessert. The food is all on the ship anyway. If it doesn't get consumed by someone, it's going to waste anyway.... might as well get something out of it.
6. The people in Jamaica that try to sell you crap are SWINDLERS! They prey on gullible people who think they can't live if you don't pay them $50 for a pair of totems that they carved in 5 minutes and then carved your name in so they can't sell them to anyone else. (That was the first and last time I let the Hubs "wheel and deal" with any of the islanders.)
7. Be Prepared! For about a week after you get off of the ship, you'll feel like your still rocking. It's very possible to get sea sick on solid ground.
My question to you: If you could go anywhere in the world and cost wasn't an issue, where would you go?
Showing posts with label you asked. Show all posts
Showing posts with label you asked. Show all posts
Friday, July 11, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
You asked... my first car
When I was in high school my favorite teacher drove a big yellow banana type car that was falling apart and rusting like no one’s business. We all made fun of him.
As all of my friends started to turn 16 (I was the baby of the group) they started driving nice-ish cars. Saturns and Neons and Cavaliers…. All new and bought for them by their parents. For some reason, I assumed that I would receive the same treatment. (I think I was crazy, because, really? I was one of 6 children and my family wasn’t loaded by ANY means.) I was wrong. ::insert scary music here::
I wish I could find a picture of my lovely first car that I inherited from my great grandmother….. yes… that’s right…. My GREAT- GRANDMOTHER. She was a beauty, that car. She was a big yellow Oldsmobile Delta 88. With rust. LOTS of rust. In fact, there were several places that were so rusty that you could stick your fist through the holes. Very safe. Very Trendy. Very hard to drive. This thing was a BEAST! I had such a hard time maneuvering it, that I actually took out one of my friend’s mom’s bushes and drove around with branches sticking out of my bumper. It was so ugly that my friend’s brother once told me I was lowering the value of his car just by parking next to it. I hated that car.
One hot summer day I was on my way home from work. I was driving down a hill on a busy street, and my brakes gave out. I was lucky not to hit someone as I was weaving in and out of traffic, and I pulled the car into a big gravel parking lot that was (thankfully) mostly empty. The only thing that was between me and the back end of a semi was a “railing” of sorts… the kind with the concrete posts and a cable in between each. I hit the cable. It sliced between the grill of my car and the bumper straight through to my tires. It saved my life. There was glass and metal everywhere. 2 of the posts had been pulled out of the ground. The men who worked in the building came out to make sure that I didn’t hit any of their cars. They didn’t say a SINGLE WORD to me. I was peeved. Then a cop came and pumped the brakes and decided that I was lying and sited me for failure to control. I never saw the car again, and I’m ok with that.
As all of my friends started to turn 16 (I was the baby of the group) they started driving nice-ish cars. Saturns and Neons and Cavaliers…. All new and bought for them by their parents. For some reason, I assumed that I would receive the same treatment. (I think I was crazy, because, really? I was one of 6 children and my family wasn’t loaded by ANY means.) I was wrong. ::insert scary music here::
I wish I could find a picture of my lovely first car that I inherited from my great grandmother….. yes… that’s right…. My GREAT- GRANDMOTHER. She was a beauty, that car. She was a big yellow Oldsmobile Delta 88. With rust. LOTS of rust. In fact, there were several places that were so rusty that you could stick your fist through the holes. Very safe. Very Trendy. Very hard to drive. This thing was a BEAST! I had such a hard time maneuvering it, that I actually took out one of my friend’s mom’s bushes and drove around with branches sticking out of my bumper. It was so ugly that my friend’s brother once told me I was lowering the value of his car just by parking next to it. I hated that car.
One hot summer day I was on my way home from work. I was driving down a hill on a busy street, and my brakes gave out. I was lucky not to hit someone as I was weaving in and out of traffic, and I pulled the car into a big gravel parking lot that was (thankfully) mostly empty. The only thing that was between me and the back end of a semi was a “railing” of sorts… the kind with the concrete posts and a cable in between each. I hit the cable. It sliced between the grill of my car and the bumper straight through to my tires. It saved my life. There was glass and metal everywhere. 2 of the posts had been pulled out of the ground. The men who worked in the building came out to make sure that I didn’t hit any of their cars. They didn’t say a SINGLE WORD to me. I was peeved. Then a cop came and pumped the brakes and decided that I was lying and sited me for failure to control. I never saw the car again, and I’m ok with that.
Monday, June 30, 2008
You asked, I answer......
Did you go to Prom in high school? Why yes, I did! I dreamed about my prom night for lots and lots of years. Kind of like a little girl would plan her wedding, I planned my prom. (well, I planned my wedding, too, natch.) I would pour over YM PROM magazine (is YM still around?) and every prom dress catalog I could find. I just KNEW that it was going to be a magical night where everyone in my class got along and where people would look at me and think “wow! She looks amazing! Why didn’t I notice her before?!” I would arrive in a limo with all of my friends and my date would be perfect and dance with me all night and make me feel like a princess.
How it actually turned out: Until about 2 weeks before, I didn’t have a date. I know, shocking, right? All of my friends were pairing up and planning their night. My best friend was going with my former crush (the hooked up right after she yelled at him for totally screwing with my head… but that’s another story. Ah, High School!) We were all planning on getting a limo and going together…. if I found a date. Things were getting desperate. It was sad. I did, however, have a dress. It was mint green A-line with a purple lace overlay on the bodice. It had a mock corset back and was just PERFECT! I wore a little tiara (because I’m a princess, and because our HS didn’t elect prom king and queen for some reason.)
Then, 2 weeks before prom and closing night of our musical, I hooked up with J. I had known him for quite some time, and we had some common good friends, but we weren’t close. We had some friendly flirting, but he always had a girlfriend, so I stayed back. Also, he was a bad boy. (Still is, actually. We talk from time to time.) Because of my date of choice, though, I was booted from the limo group. J was the ex of my Frienemy, S. So here I was with a bad boy date and my perfect dress and no limo. J was great, though. He didn’t fuss or complain, he just said “Don’t worry about it.” And I didn’t, and it was fine. He borrowed a really nice car from his aunt and made sure it was really nice and shiny and clean. He showed up on time and chilled with my fam and made the appropriate comments as to how good I looked. He was a perfect prom date (He was a pro, after all… this was his 3rd prom in 3 years) we met up with his good friend, and his girl friend at the time, my dear friend Jessie Marie Davis (Yes, that one. She looked amazing on prom night and I will never ever ever forget how much she was there for me through my crazy months with J.) We had a FABULOUS time! Despite the frienemy drama, everything turned out practically perfect.
I don’t really remember too much about the dance itself. I remember that my bff (the one dating my ex crush) had the same dress as one of the other girls. I remember dancing. I remember that one of my classmates who was known for his long long curly beautiful hair had cut it all off right before prom to donate to Locks of love and looked even more adorable after it was cut short. I remember one of my friends coming to the dance with a marine, who then got bored at after prom and left her there. I remember driving home from an amazing night with J, happy. I remember him pulling into the parking lot of the park around the corner from my house, and I remember him telling me that he really cared about me but didn’t think things would work out. Great timing, right? Jerk. (Really, he’s been an amazing friend ever since, and was actually my “rebound guy” between lots of relationships… until I met the Hubbs, of course!)
Great story, huh? Stay tuned for tomorrow’s edition where I describe the big old beater that was my first car. Exciting stuff, no?
How it actually turned out: Until about 2 weeks before, I didn’t have a date. I know, shocking, right? All of my friends were pairing up and planning their night. My best friend was going with my former crush (the hooked up right after she yelled at him for totally screwing with my head… but that’s another story. Ah, High School!) We were all planning on getting a limo and going together…. if I found a date. Things were getting desperate. It was sad. I did, however, have a dress. It was mint green A-line with a purple lace overlay on the bodice. It had a mock corset back and was just PERFECT! I wore a little tiara (because I’m a princess, and because our HS didn’t elect prom king and queen for some reason.)
Then, 2 weeks before prom and closing night of our musical, I hooked up with J. I had known him for quite some time, and we had some common good friends, but we weren’t close. We had some friendly flirting, but he always had a girlfriend, so I stayed back. Also, he was a bad boy. (Still is, actually. We talk from time to time.) Because of my date of choice, though, I was booted from the limo group. J was the ex of my Frienemy, S. So here I was with a bad boy date and my perfect dress and no limo. J was great, though. He didn’t fuss or complain, he just said “Don’t worry about it.” And I didn’t, and it was fine. He borrowed a really nice car from his aunt and made sure it was really nice and shiny and clean. He showed up on time and chilled with my fam and made the appropriate comments as to how good I looked. He was a perfect prom date (He was a pro, after all… this was his 3rd prom in 3 years) we met up with his good friend, and his girl friend at the time, my dear friend Jessie Marie Davis (Yes, that one. She looked amazing on prom night and I will never ever ever forget how much she was there for me through my crazy months with J.) We had a FABULOUS time! Despite the frienemy drama, everything turned out practically perfect.
I don’t really remember too much about the dance itself. I remember that my bff (the one dating my ex crush) had the same dress as one of the other girls. I remember dancing. I remember that one of my classmates who was known for his long long curly beautiful hair had cut it all off right before prom to donate to Locks of love and looked even more adorable after it was cut short. I remember one of my friends coming to the dance with a marine, who then got bored at after prom and left her there. I remember driving home from an amazing night with J, happy. I remember him pulling into the parking lot of the park around the corner from my house, and I remember him telling me that he really cared about me but didn’t think things would work out. Great timing, right? Jerk. (Really, he’s been an amazing friend ever since, and was actually my “rebound guy” between lots of relationships… until I met the Hubbs, of course!)
Great story, huh? Stay tuned for tomorrow’s edition where I describe the big old beater that was my first car. Exciting stuff, no?
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