Me?
Here we are, me sharing the start of my travel, my shortcomings as a regular adult and you…finally figuring out I’m an idiot. Fun times.
“I realized” should be the name of this whole story because in my head that is what each sentence wants to start with. I’ll switch it up for you.
I noticed (got to love synonyms) upon getting through my security mishaps to the terminal that airport news shops are to me what the checkout lane at the grocery is to a small child. They overwhelm me with the sudden need to grab everything because well…what if I need just one more magazine. Surely the laptop full of pictures to sort through, iPad stocked with e-books, the actual paperback (defeats the purpose of the i-pad e-book 
convenience when you also carry around real books) and oh yes, the other three magazines I have won’t be enough to keep me busy and entertained. Maybe just a couple more.Ooo and a crossword book because I haven’t in my entire life finished a crossword, but today is the day. What if I get hungry and don’t want the crackers and granola bar I brought? Trail mix would be perfect for that. What if I am suddenly parched or choke on my trail mix and the attendants are otherwise occupied? I’ll just have to get a water bottle…and a Gatorade. There went sixty bucks at “Hudson News” in the airport when my bags were already well stocked from Target prior to leaving the house. (Packing our carry-ons was a real treat for us as kids and it has carried over to adulthood - big time.)
Whenever I get to the gate when I am flying I probably check my ticket ten times. Once for the time. Once to double check the gate. Once to double check the boarding number. Once to make sure Southwest hasn’t spontaneously decided to start assigning seats. Once to look for any layovers – again. Once for the time…I guess that is twice for the time. Once to make sure it is still in my purse. Once to use it as a bookmark. Once to check the gate – damn…twice to check the gate.
Neurotic?
Again, I blame my Dad.
It is an innate, eh, learned fear of missing my flight.
(or being that person sprinting through the airport and hurdling small children)
I never have missed a flight you know.
(I swear I am a much less obnoxious traveler when I am not alone. I think.)
Arriving at the gate with my personal library and snack shop in tow I took this time to check my ticket (see above OCD confession) and realized – crap, I mean…figured out that my flight was going to be seven hours! SEVEN HOURS! Did I make a mistake and book a flight to Europe? (commence checking destination on ticket). At that moment, I realized – son of a, I mean…became aware that I have some flight anxiety.
I have never just loved flying. Being locked on a metal tube, tens of thousands of feet in the air, with re-circulating germ filled air and people who have no manners or haven’t showered without the option of leaving is just not my idea of fun. But, I have never been a nervous flyer. Turbulence? Sure, gets my heart going but in general I was okay. Apparently when you realize – think and remember, that you haven’t flown alone for three years and you are going to be completely out of contact for seven hours and you can’t get out and you are so out of practice traveling and talking your hands start to sweat a little.
For some reason I forgot the joy of being ALONE for seven hours to read or sit and process thoughts when I looked around to see I was going to be joined by a couple hundred of my nearest and dearest stranger friends all up in my space.
Being so OCD…prompt, I just so happened to be in the first boarding group which gave me a little bit of option as to which stranger friend I might like to accompany me on this flight. I see a young-ish girl quietly reading in the window seat near the front of the plane – Bingo! She politely says hello and goes back to her book. Bingo! Then she turns and compliments my blouse and points out how her bag has a similar pattern. Bingo??? I see that she is reading “The Hunger Games” which I am finally about to start so I comment on this to her. This high-school aged girl was excited that I was reading it because she was excited to be reading it for the and I quote “like 17th time”. I tell her I have been meaning to but my boys have kept me from being able to focus on a book at home so I had saved it for the trip. Next quote – ”Oh my God, I love children more than like anything in the world.” Bingo??? At this point I am thinking that I may have gotten myself into a situation where I have to chat the whole time and maybe even chat about my boys which is either going to make me cry or drive me insane. And then it happened.
“So basically, what I am saying, is that I like want to be just like you…
WHEN I GROW UP.”
I actually choked a little on my own saliva, regained my Southern composure and managed to squeeze out a smile while croaking “thanks”. My head however was doing this…
“When you grow up? When you grow up!!! How old are you? How old do you think I am? Maybe I should ask her that. No, no you can’t ask her that because that is exactly what someone old would do. Am I old? OH MY GOODNESS, when she grows up! This did not just happen. Aren’t you grown? You look pretty grown to me. Wait, if I think she looks more or less grown than how old does she really think I am??!! Oh my. Maybe I should jokingly tell her that saying that to people makes them feel really old. No, no again – that again would be something an old person would say. I want to scream, I need to tell someone. Surely someone else thinks this is crazy right? To me? This happened to me? I am even dressed cute and not in mom sweats. When she grows up!”
Then it happened.
I thought to myself, if she is in highschool like I think she probably is at the 
beginning of and I am coming up on my ten year reunion next May, then holy moly I am 10-12 years older than her. Yup, she is right. when she grows up.
I realized…I am old.
I have been married almost 5 years, have two kids, a house, two dogs, stay at home to be covered in slime and look forward to being able to scrub my bathroom. Old.
The start of my getaway weekend, before I had even left the gate in Dallas kicked off with a very polite teenager putting me in my place to stew in it for the next 7 hours.
When she grows up.
This trip is going so well already.
To Be Continued
Out of Practice
If you remember from the start of this tale, the plans for Bri’s wedding in Santa Barbara had been made, the trip was set, and the travel and just begun.
The former independent, confident traveler in me was a little on edge and nervous since I absolutely had to make 
the flight so there was no room for error. There were many adult moments that made me feel childish because even as a late twenties mother of two it was a first to do alone. Take for example having to park the car in airport parking, remember to get the ticket and get on the right shuttle to the terminal. Simple? Of course. But I didn’t want to screw up and come back to find my car towed or have no idea where my ticket was meaning I also had no idea where the car was. Knowing me…that had a very high chance of happening. “I swear I put it right here…no I remember putting it in this pocket. What’s that? You found it. Oh yeah! I did put it over there.”
So yes…the most ridiculous things were making me a little shaky for no reason. Well, ridiculous things and the whole being locked in a silver death tube with absolutely no control thing. Did I mention I realized I have a little flight anxiety on this trip? No? I haven’t yet? Oh, I will get there – have no worry.
Upon getting to the airport for a Thursday morning flight the first thing that made me stand out as someone who hasn’t traveled in awhile was my apparent ability to be friendly and not in a complete ‘I’m flying this business trip and have no time for anyone’ rush through well, everything. No I am not in a business suit but yes I would still like to be on time as well so please don’t run over me and you obviously are going home not coming home because those are not southern manners because if they were you would be making kind small talk not tapping my heels with your rolling suitcase in a line that isn’t moving anyway which is clearly not my fault so back off! Phew.
I quickly realized I was out of practice in conversing with adults so they either infuriated me with their lack of patience ( I have a toddler who has no patience people, I don’t need to deal with it from you too.) or intrigued me with their efficiency.
Like how I call these adults “their” as if they are an alien species to me?
They are.
Out of practice.
Efficient is what everyone wants at security as they watch the people pile all bags, coats
laptops, gadgets and oh yes…shoes on the belt to supposedly be screened. (The recent drug ring bust among LA TSA officers has me thinking they are just looking for anything they can take and sell. I kid.) I having been raised with a father who is a bit of a neurotic traverl (love you Dad) who got us to the airport (and still does) at least two hours before boarding used to be a speedy professional through security.
Then I stayed at home with my babies and became a speedy professional at whizzing through a demanding yet strict schedule of meals,feedings,naps,cleaning,diapers and so forth which I can do blindfolded without hands practically.
Therefore, I was out of practice with the security screening.
My lack of attention to protocol and inability to read/hear a thought, digest and process it on minimal sleep became obvious as I apologized to the man behind me for getting like six bins out. Next I had to apologize for starting to push my bins through only to realize that I still had one shoe on. One shoe! After that there was the whole starting to watch people go through the body scanner only to realize I still had a belt on (I never wear belts) which led to apology number three to the lucky traveler behind me as I added a doggy dish bin to my pile for the belt. Finally, it was almost my turn and then “Damn! U have a watch on!” Apology number four – to which he patiently replied “No big deal, I mentioned the watch when you added the belt but I guess you didn’t hear me.” Bless him.
Remember? I have a current”inability to read/hear a thought, digest and process it” in a manner of time that makes it useful.
Never in my life have I been THAT traveler. Let me tell you, you feel dumb.
Out of practice.
Now blatantly aware of my shortcomings as a non-mom functioning adult, traveler and fully nourished and rested human being I was one step closer to the gate, the plane the trip and the wedding. If only I wasn’t getting more nervous with each out of practice step!
To Be Continued
Let It Begin
Last weekend I had the chance to travel to the wedding of a friend I have been close to for more than half of my life – since we were twelve. This in and of itself is a whole separate story, but the travel is a topic worth sharing.
I have been looking forward to this trip since Bri asked me to be a bridesmaid at the 
beginning of my pregnancy. Whether the kids were coming or not, I was going. Then Everett was born and the shit hit the fan. I mean that with all of the adoring parenting love behind it of course, but as you know it has been a challenging six months. I had to miss her bachelorette weekend because of Everett’s antics and as the wedding grew nearer and the idea of sleep around here grew further away the trip was an exciting tease in front of me as well as a worrisome hurdle to overcome.
We decided I would be going alone so that if Colter was going to be the primary care-taker for a weekend (I would be busy doing bridesmaid things, rehearsal etc) it would be better for him to be on his own territory rather than us pay the money and exert the effort to haul them to Santa Barbara only to be more or less locked in a foreign hotel room most of the weekend. This meant two very contrasting things. I was going to get a weekend alone with sleep,
and food, and all things adult! However, Colter was going to get a weekend alone with no sleep, the food I stocked in the fridge and all things baby. 
I will not lie. I was terrfied for him. Not because he isn’t capable or doesn’t know what is going on but because four full days and nights all on his own (his parents were even out of town so there went backup) had the chance of being very tricky and very tiresome depending on how Everett planned to sleep and so forth. Passing off shifts makes it much more manageable! However, that was that – my bags were packed and after making Caden breakfast and giving my boys a squeeze (yes, a little teary one) I was headed to the airport alone.
Alone.
My dream and my fear all rolled into one!
Alone.
I swear I haven’t been alone since I got pregnant with Caden.
Speaking of, I haven’t flown since I got pregnancy with Caden except to the Bahamas….with Colter and Caden.
Alone.
Time to put my big girl pants on.
Let the travel begin.
To Be Continued
A Picture Book Trip
I’ve been trying to tell you about our trip for almost a month now. It seems that I just can’t find the time. Therefore you are getting the “See Spot Run” version. A picture book trip I like to call it.
We were going on a trip and Caden was going on his first flight.
A very long flight it was. 
There was a lot of playing on the beach…
And even more playing in the house.
and hermit crabs…
and a bride and groom!
There were sandcastles and shovels.
Sun-hats and sunsets
A pregnant mama, a doting dad and a blessed family.
See Spot Run?
I mean…see our trip?
I know this didn’t do the trip justice but at least you get to see a little evidence that we went, saw a wedding, family, friends and lived to tell about traveling with a toddler and pregnant woman.
(My sister in law was able to to a write up if you are interested, and you can see pcitures of Caden’s cousins!)
Stamped
His Passport Has Been Stamped
We all survived not only our first flight together, but an international one.
Now, we just need a vacation from our vacation.
Give me a month or two to sleep this one off and I’ll get the pictures to you. 
Roooooaaaaaadddddd Trip!
A couple of weekends ago, we finally had a reason to strap Caden into his torture device also known as a carseat for a lengthy period of time….five hours to be exact. We haven’t been avoiding a road trip with him necessarily, we are just blessed to have one set of his grandparents here as well as an Auntie and Uncle. Since, my Dad flies in from Florida and his other grandparents are in Dallas, his other cousins, Aunties and Uncles often come to him. We like to say we paid our dues pre-Caden traveling to see the others and now it is being paid forward!
However, Colter’s Aunt and Uncle were celbrating 40 y
ears of marriage and we think that reaching such a milestone is definitely a beautiful thing worth gathering for and we were not going to miss the party. Plus, since the party was in Houston, this means we got to test out our kiddo in the car. Some of you are cringing. Mainly the ones that had the child that did nothing but scream in the car as a young’n but we had faith in our bundle of joy.
We tried to time it as best we could so that the first leg of the trip would fall when his lengthy afternoon nap usually takes place. On top of that though, we decided to really put him to the test by taking him to Cathryn’s 2nd Birthday Party before strapping him in. You know, we like to get him really overwhelm
ed and pushed to the limits when trying new things . We changed him, kissed him, locked him in, said a prayer and hit the road.
What did he do? Slept. For three hours. Snored really.
Now you are thinking, that we had two hours left and it was a nightmare right? He woke up, let out a few moans to let me know he was lonely and wanting his meal right on the dot. So I climbed on back, gave him his milk via bottle and said another prayer. What did he do? He played. He played and talked actually. Chatted away to his elephant toy for an hour and a half. Content as a clam. ( I never understood that…why would clams be happy? Is it because they are all cozied up in their shell?) I know you don’t believe me, so see for yourself.
Our angel baby continued to be an angel, even for five hours in the car.
It was wonderful to arrive in Houston to spend time with his cousins, aunties, uncles, grandparents and great aunts/uncles without being a wreck from a stressful drive. We might as well not of even had him in the car! He partied, played, slept just the same and for the most part could have cared less that he was somewhere new. He seemed to enjoy looking around, and would notice he was in a new bedroom, look at us and then get over it. Caden seems to have the same outlook on life as his dad – “I’m healthy
, you are healthy. I am fed. I’m safe and I am with those who love me. What is there to complain about?”
Not a bad outlook to have.
It was a whirlwind trip as we had to head back to Houston the next day. As we put Caden back in the car 24 hours aftert his first trip we thought we might be pushing our luck. Turns out, he was worn out from all of the excitement of the weekend and slept for four hours. A nice, long, soothing nap. So, the nice part is we weren’t traumatized into never wanting to take him for a road trip again, although getting everything together and the effort of it all is exhausting for us! Hopefully we will be this fortunate everytime, but we definitely enjoyed getting to see everyone and test it all out.
Viva La Backyard?
I’ve been meaning to touch on this little morcel since July 4th, because that weekend’s holiday brought us to the one year anniversay of our second honeymoon of sorts. We “vacated our life” as I mentioned a year ago to return to Riviera Maya, Mexico and soak up all the resort had to offer.
Crisp Sunshine. Ocean waves. Margaritas. Beach Beds. Daytime Naps. Meals at Anytime. Lounge Chairs. Massages. Reading Galore. Flip Flops. Smell of Salt in the Air. Peace and Quiet. Relaxation. Open View of Water. Reconnection. Happiness.
After a long school year and 10 months of attempting to start a family we just needed a break. My husband who does a wonderful job always budgeting for all areas of our life had set aside our vacation fund and as the school year ended we booked the trip. I think I was even happier to go than when we went on our honeymoon (sorry dear) because we both needed it. We both needed it in the adult sense of needing to get away and stop with the job, dogs, mail etc. I wasn’t just happy to go, I was giddy. Giddy like a schoolgirl. (That is the saying isn’t it? I don’t think I was ever a giddy schoolgirl.) Once we booked that trip, I was the kid who had just been let out on summer vacation and couldn’t wait to run in the sprinklers. My sprinklers were a jet flying me to Mexico, but you get 
the idea. Little did we know, that our second honeymoon was also our babymoon.
Three days after returning from Mexico, Colter came home from work to find four positive tests waiting for him to tell us that our little family was finally beginning. I know what you are thinking “little did we know?” When you have been trying for that long and are continuing to wait, you stop analyzing every little thing and just go with it. That was what our break was for. Turns out our little one took his first Mexican vacation when he was a bean. Eh…maybe a grain of rice. I know what else you are thinking, when you run your little numbers so I will just admit it. My perfect, healthy, wonderful son was started on a week of Coronas, Don Julio Margaritas and Mexican sanitation. Mmmmm mmmmm good. We like to go out with a bang here at the Kazmann household.
So, this year on the fourth it was hard not to think of how things have changed in one year. I really began the 
comparison as I took my summer vacation this year…in my backyard…in a kiddie pool. This year, I accepted the vacation my house had to offer.
Stifling Humidity. Ocean Wave Noise via an Infant Sound Machine. Ice Water. Blow Up Kiddie Pool. Putting Caden Down to Nap. Meals When I Remember. Lawn Chairs. Back Adjustments from My Chiropractor.Reading – Ha!. CROCS Protecting My Feet From “Yard Treats”. Smell of Dog Fesces in the Air. Peace and Dogs Barking, Baby Cooing. Busyness. Closed View of Dying Grass and Dog Poop. Happiness.
From baby in the belly to baby on the hip, the happiness is still there despite the changes. I believe that there would be the moral of the story.
A tan is a tan right? Maybe I should get a sand box.
Vacating Life
No need to call the authorities, I am not talking about leaving my own life, nor am I suicidal. I am simply talking about vacation, which thanks to my generous husband we just returned home from a fabulous vacation to Mexico. Honeymoon Numero Dos to be exact. (I learned Spanish while I was there, what do you think?) As I was flying home I was thinking about the concept of vacation, the root of the word and the definition itself. What I kept going back to was the word vacate.
Vacate – 1. to give up or relinquish 2. to cause to be empty or unoccupied
I think as many of you do also, needed to vacate my life for a break. I am just not capable of relaxing at home. 
Relaxing at home consists of making lesson plans while watching T.V., folding laundry while listening to music, always busy, always occupying my mind. It just seems that I always have to be doing something and believe it or not, I have actually gotten better at this relaxing concept recently. I haven’t mastered expert level home relaxation techniques quite yet but I feel as though I have grown enough to have at least a smidge of advice for the youngsters who still have so much to learn. Okay, enough.
Colter and I decided this Spring, that we wanted to take a vacation this summer and get away together – to relax. Hence the role of the word vacate (re-read the definition if necessary)
- I gave up trying to accomplish things while in Mexico
- I relinquished myself to the power of a great book…okay, books
- I left my brain unoccupied (and am still trying to relocate it)
As we aren’t very “active” vacationers when we are on the beach, we made a deal to do nothing but layout, read and constantly have in our hand, a margarita…or pina colada…or daiquiri…tequila sunrise perhaps…I think you get the idea. We held on strong to out end of the bargain ( I am sufficiently freckled and have three books to review and my mind is at ease. Please ignore the broken toes as Colter calls them. I was a dancer people come on, I abused my feet – get over it.) It is true that Americans do not take enough vacation days and trips with their loved ones. We are always to concerned with our responsibilities at home that await us and the job whose em
ails continue to find us.Why? What exactly is it that you are waiting for?
GO anyway. Turn off your phone. Do not look at a computer. Simply leave. I promise you that you can wait forever for a “better time”. Whether it is a financial issue or a work issue I know that you can find something that will work for you. It is just for a few days and I promise it will all be there when you get back (boy was it…such a rude reminder of life).
Vacation -
1. a suspension of work, school, or other activity 
2. freedom or release from duty or activity
3. an act or instance of vacating
I personally like the freedom part in number two. Ahhhh freedom…breath it in – it smells like saltwater. Go on people, vacate the premises of your life.
Long-Distance Relationship
While long distance relationships have quite the bad reputation, I on the other hand give them a two thumbs up for success. No I am not talking about Colter altho
ugh his traveling schedule could almost qualify us under this category, and no I am not talking about a man on the side (I mean puh-lease, I am not dumb enough to publicly blog about that…duh!) I am talking about friendships. Several of my friends that I have had the longest live nowhere near me….maybe that is why we are still friends. Oh no, I think I just realized I am that hard to be around! Regardless, friends are friends and we make a point to see each other despite our distances and busy schedules. Brianne, who is based in California went on a week long cruise with me this past spring and Christine who has settled down in Tulsa is coming in town on Wednesday for a date. Even those girls I can count on that are near like Leah, Emily and Kirby have set aside days just for us. It truly is all about making time and a week ago I was able to make five days worth of time for a trip to Arizona to visit Jordy.
I was blessed as a naive, nervous freshman in college with a wonderful suite mate. I always “label” Jordan as my roommate freshman year because my roommate got kicked out (a little problem with an illegal substance) and hers was in and out, so we shared our bathroom and our lives. Jordan, or Jordy as I have called her for six years is just one of those people you wish everyone had. A loyal friend, a smart woman and just a solid, good friend. I am so proud of her (yes I know I am not her mother) for moving out to Arizona on her own and making a life for herself. She has done so well and I keep reminding her of how happy she is going to be that she had these years to herself 10 years from now.
The other thing we are going to be happy we have ten years from now is each other. She wrote a great entry about how no matter how long it has been we are always able to pick right back up where we left off. We also don’t l
et ourselves be clueless as to what is going on in each other’s lives, and yes we both put the work in but every time it is as if we have seen each other every day. Jordy was a wonderful hostess as she dealt with me being sick and exhausted my first day ( I literally slept for 24 hours)and then continued to chauffeur me around town and to Sedona! I know she is in good hands when I am not there because I was able to spend time with several of her friends and she must be relaxed enough because the views in Arizona are stunning. We both agreed that this should become an annual trip and as long as she is there I will go out to remind her of her Texas upbringing. Once she leaves though…I am thinking Mexico, or Napa or well anywhere really. It was so nice to reminisce about the good old days, catch up on the current days and plan again for the future.
Mr. and Mrs. Hackney, thank you for raising such a wonderful girl for me to have as one of my best friends. I will always be indebted to you for her. (And yes…I tore apart my coffee table and successfully put it back together again!)
Oh and after two rounds of guessing in the Snapshots section there was only one big winner – Dad! Although, I did like how after guessing Leah pointed out she should have paid attention to the trees in the background for a size reference since she thought it was a small sundial! The piece of peace was in fact and old water wheel from a mill but it goes to show you how you can make something old and rusty quite beautiful from a different angle! Thanks Jordy for the trip to Sedona! Today’s tip – get yourself in a long distance relationship, or uhhhh friendship. Not only will it make your bond stronger and test your dedication, you will get to visit amazing places along the way!
Tales From a Trip
For the past five days, I relocated myself to Arizona to visit a wonderful friend of mine, who is in fact from Texas…she just works in Arizona now, but she will never be from there. Never. I am so glad I could clear that up for you, because I know you were concerned and we all would hate that. So, now that I cleared that up, I am going to clarify were I am right this very moment. The Phoenix Airport. Despite my past feelings about waiting in the airport, today I am ansy and not digging it. I can’t get comfy, my eyes are too tired to read, someone next to me is eating something that smells like vomit (literally) and I haven’t seen one person smile.
Either way, I always take mental and written notes as I travel of all the humorous, unbelievable, sad, outrageous and down right moronic things I watch take place because as I have said before if traveling is good for only one thing, it is for sure, people watching. Until I can sit down and re-cap the trip I thought I would share a few short tales from this trip’s travels.
Humorous - I saw three different people sprinting barefoot through the terminal to catch a plane. I hope that is never me, and while it may be one day I hope someone watching me enjoys it as much as I did, because frankly, it never gets old.
Sad- While waiting on the passengers of a connecting flight to board I read my book in my aisle seat. Across the aisle and one row up was Mr. Blackberry who I got a snooty vibe from when I boarded and chose not to sit next to him. There was only a middle seat left in Mr. Blackberry’s row and not too much longer had passed when a shaky, older man who was navigating the aisle with his cane approached the row. Tired and not wanting to walk back any further he decides he should probably sit here. Mr. Blackberry is OBLIVIOUS. So, Mr. Cane looks at him and very quietly, and very politely says “Excuse me, would it be okay if I sat there? Do you think you could let me by?” Finally Mr. Blackberry gets out of his aisle seat and stares at this man who has a hanging bag and a shoulder satchel which he is struggling with. Again, he has to ask the man for help before it is offered because the bins are full and well, he is weak. Mr. Blackberry is all huffy about it. At this point I am showing him where his bags can fit and as it is obvious to me that getting in that middle seat is a ridiculous task for him I quickly offer up my aisle seat, no big deal. But alas, he could not accept a seat from a woman and make her more uncomfortable. I mean seriously I didn’t mind and tried again, nothing. You would think at this point, this might wake up Mr. Blackberry into being a decent, elder respecting if nothing else, human being and offer his, but nope…he just stood and watched him shake and shimmy into the seat. (He then left him there when we landed without offering to get his bags, or help him out.) One day that will be you, or your father Mr. Blackberry and you are going to be sorry.
Kind - An Iraq Veteran was sitting next to an elderly cowboy at the gate in DFW on the way here. Mr. Cowboy was speaking on his phone to Mrs. Cowboy when his battery died and the poor man was looking everywhere for an outlet. Mr. Veteran sees an outlet way under a row of contaminated airport seats (the airport makes me a germ freak) , jumps up, walks him over there and asks if he can plug it in there. He then proceeds to swiftly fall into a push up position, shimmy under the seats and plug in elderly Mr. Cowboy’s phone. At least there is some respect left with some people. I later thanked him for his service and sacrifices because well, even if they don’t want to be bothered, I think all veterans should be thanked and acknowledged.
Moronic - Hippy Mom and family get to the security gates and whoops, we need boarding passes? What about ID? Go figure, they can’t find any of them. Business men are tapping feet and I am thinking about what great material this is. The hippy kids are mortified, but have no solutions because they too are just as dumbfounded and/or dumb but I am by no means making that a judgement. Here they are, bags spilled out in front of the TSA stand digging for anything resembling proof to pass. Whooo-hoooo they found it! So, they get to the trays and take none. (Yes, I stayed behind them to see how this played out.) They just start piling their shoes and bags right there on the conveyor belt while everyone stares not really wanting to help to also see exactly how this plays out. TSA is less than amused which I do not blame them for and once their goods are sorted into bins it is time to go through, or so you would think. I kid you not, each member had to pass through the scanner 3 – 5 times because they kept not taking everything off. Your shoes are still on. Do you have anything in your pockets? Oh look, a handful of change. What about the other pocket? Nope. I swear. I think there is something in your other pocket ma’am. Oh, my cell phone. This went on and on. The best part is that once they got through the TSA employee informed them that he was going to have to search one of their carry ons. The lady replied, “Oh, it is probably the two pounds of tobacco in there.” (I would not be the least bit surprised if it was “special tobacco”, a little grass if you will.)
Outrageous - During my journey here I was fortunate enough to walk down the tunnel between two country “gentlemen”. The first turns to the second and says, “Bill, do you drink in the morning?” He replies, “Of course Joe, but only Scotch and Gin.” (only…duh) Joe, looking relieved turns back to Bill, “Thank God because I am ordering a dozen.” Ladies and gentlemen, he did. It was 8 a.m.
Unbelievable - If I can help it, I try to avoid the airplane bathrooms at all costs. I mean, yucko and I am not claustrophobic at all but those are enough to send you into a tailspin. Lets just say the mile high club is a negative. Sorry. I have digressed. Okay, so….I REALLY never use them, I would rather be miserable. But I was just that miserable. I drank a bottle of water at the airport (mistake #1) and participated in the wonderful in-cabin service (mistake #2) and my bladder was full. I begrudgingly walk up to the bathroom to see an OLD man coming out. I open the door and I swear to you, that old man marked every surface in that bathroom. Needless to say, I turned around and returned to my seat. I decided being miserable was better than taking a urine shower. Never again I tell you, never again.
Happy Travels Everyone.
Happy – Freaking – Travels.