I think I should get a commission from the airlines. Afterall, I'm doing exactly what THEIR agents are getting paid to do... book my itinerary and purchase my ticket. Plus, the agents have had actual training to do this. I of course, was never offered such help. And... now that I think of it, I should also get paid for having trained myself. This online trial and error method I have to go through, is for the birds.
Also, I have yet to find such fabulous pricing bargains to wherever it is I'm flying. Well, other than last minute weekend getaways and I never fly at the last minute. How can I? It takes me at least 4 days to just organize my packing. Which brings me to another point. Packing is a huge issue with me. When I was younger, I could pack for last minute travel in a jiffy. Throw in the clothing, shoes, makeup and boom. I was ready to go. Now that I'm old, however, I've got meds, creams, hair utensils, just in case items, etc., etc. It's almost like my toiletries have suddenly become something close to a sundries mini store.
When surfing to the travel sites, especially those that supposedly have the lowest price ever, I NEVER seem to find excellent values. Am I doing something wrong, here? Let's say I'm flying to Florida and I surf sites 4 weeks in advance. Shouldn't I be able to find something less than $575?? That to me is no bargain whatsoever. Especially when I well remember heading there for a mere $152 and buying a ticket only 3 weeks in advance. It's a major bummer.
So... coupling the fact I'm not getting paid for booking my own flights with the fact there's never cheap tickets available to me, I'm thinking: why the hell go anywhere? I love where I am. Let the world c0me to me, now that I think of it. Traveling is no longer fun, anyway. Purchasing a ticket is a hassle, the check in searches can get nuts, you can no longer bring zillions of items as carry on, it's always a gamble to know whether or not you'll ever be able to depart/arrive on schedule and, most importantly, THERE'S NO FOOD. Uh... not to mention the possibility of being blown up while 35,000 feet sky high.
Okay, so that does it... I'm going nowhere. I'm sticking right here on safe ground where God meant me to be. Anywhere my feet can touch solid ground, that's the place for me. Forget ocean cruises, forget plane rides, forget ski lifts, forget deep sea diving. Besides, maybe I'll take the Oprah/Gayle approach one day. I'll simply see the USA in my Chevrolet. Oops...damn. I forgot. I hate long car trips, too.
After 12 months, guess what? AUTUMN IS HERE ONCE AGAIN! Autumn alone, is one of the reasons I adore where I live. As a native South Floridian, even I knew that celebrating Xmas in temps of 89 degrees is a major fraud. But, now that I'm in Great Smoky Mountains, my favorite season is upon me. Just last night I got to wear a wonderful coverup over my clothing and it felt great. All the windows are opened, the sun is shining brightly and the temps are in the 50s. What a life! From here on in, the crispness of the air will become a staple, the seasonal clothing will come out of the closet and the indoors will feel open and comfortable. Not to mention that reds, yellows and oranges will color the trees. Am so telling you... autumn is a fabulous season. Period.
I remember my first autumn 4 years ago. During that period I wore more pairs of socks in 5 months, than I ever did during the 50+ years of living down south. Not only that, I now have 2 wardrobes of socks... those for day/evening wear and those for nighttime sleeping. Having warm feet while asleep during autumn and winter are clearly the secret to feeling nice and toasty. Actually, hot chocolate helps, too.
I'm having a war with the newspaper delivery guy. He apparently runs the show around here, and his bosses, unlike me, apparently seem to have no problem with it. Last month, in honor my sister and her husband having moved here, I gifted them a daily subcription to our local newspaper. And, I stipulated when I placed the order, that I wanted to be SURE the paper would be delivered as far down the driveway as possible.
Well, it seems the delivery guy isn't all that intent on satisfying the customer. After three weeks, he still insists the paper be placed in the mail box which is about a house and a half away. That's another story altogether. Suffice it to say however, that since Jack doesn't want to throw the paper in the driveway, my sister has to, instead, be sure she's fully dressed before she can trapse up the street to grab her daily edition of what's happening in the world.
Almost immediately, I was on the phone with circulation department and after three weeks and 5 different service reps the upshot seems to be: Jack has been around forever (thus makes his own rules) and claims he has a "tight schedule". A tight ass is what I'm thinking, but so be it. Tight schedule?? He can't take no more than an extra 65 seconds and zip up to the driveway for the infamous toss?? Give me a BREAK! This guy is outta control.
Naturally, I've asked the reps to please correct this delivery hassel and further, please call me back letting me know Jack is ready to cooperate. The phone has not rung once from anyone. Even the threat of cancelling MY subscription as well as my sister's in favor of reading it online, didn't get me anywhere. What the hell is going on in this city? I need to fight to get a paper delivered? I'm involved in a newspaper war??
I can't even imagine what to think when Jack hears that my sister will be in Australia soon, thus will have to actually SUSPEND service for three weeks. Mark my words... three weeks of papers will almost certainly be laying in her driveway.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. There are those who love getting high simply on life. I do that too, but if you REALLY want to get high, why not try taking a toke from an excellent joint. I did that often in college and as a young married. Naturally, those years were a hell of a lot of fun... if I remember correctly.
I say this, because last night I had heart palpatations for hours so decided to down my newer drug of choice... Ativan. It was about 1mg I guess, but boy did I get loopy. It calmed me down plenty, although it didn't do all that much for the palpatations. So, just in case I had to be rushed to the hospital during the night, I figured I had better shower and powder up. No need looking like a jerk when the ambulance arrives.
I took one more half a pill, and then hopped in the shower. While there, I was thinking how writing a blog entry while I was in this loopy state might actually turn into a really good thing. I can't even iMAGine what my entry would have been like nor what it's topic might have been. I was just figuring that for all I know, it could have been one of the all time best entries ever. Much like how, way back when, my lesson plans were so creative, fun-filled and originally educational. As it happened however, my loopiness soon turned into wooziness and the next thing you know, I was fast asleep. Without even one bathroom break the entire night, I might add.
It wasn't until after 9:00 this morning when my phone rang, that I woke up. And let me tell you... it was no easy wake up call. When I hung up, I was feeling like maybe I had way too much champagne the night before. Therefore, I'm supposing my sleep wasn't quite finished. In which case, is why as soon as I upload this, I'm off to take a short catch-up snooze. Sweet dreams everyone!
I love the feeling of happy anticipation. The kind of anticipation when something about to occur is going to rock your world forever. The very first weekend getaway with the love of your life, maybe. Or the birth of your first baby. Or, my personal favorite... when a gent who knocks your socks off, is about to lean in and give you his very first kiss. You nervously anticipate the kiss that's going to bring you to your knees, and boom!... take you to heaven. Okay... so the sweet anticipation grows even more, as his mouth finally approaches yours and then WHAM! He kisses you and sure enough it's like... uh... oh NOOO! Your world isn't rocking at ALL. Instead, it's major CRUMBLING! As in: loverboy turns out to have COMPLETELY flunked The A B C's of Kissing Basics, thus in a flash of a moment, he becomes one of your all time major disappointments in life.
Such is how I felt the night that the apple of my eye, MSNBC's Tucker Carlson, showcased his dancing ability on DANCING WITH THE STARS. After watching Tucker for years, I was thrilled to be able to see a different side of him... his sexier side. My expectations were sky high. Afterall, Tucker's a guy who's bright, tall, funny, way easy on the eyes, and one whom I imagined had the perfect moves to definitely make me smile. All of which, to me, is a fabulously bundled foundation for everything sexy. I just KNEW I was going to love watching him on the dance floor, holding my breath with visual pleasure. Jesus. How wrong I was.
Talk about stiff! And, not where I'd like it, either. I'm talking about stiff body moves, no real rhythm, lead-heavy steps, etc. etc.; thus for sure... blowing all my pent up anticipation in a mere nano second. HUH?? TUCKER NEVER MADE IT OUT OF DANCE 101?? WHAT?? JERRY SPRINGER IS HOTTER THAN TUCK?? Say it ain't so! Lordy, lordy, lordy. Now THERE'S a disappointment, if ever I've seen one.
Which just goes to show, you simply never know. Besides, if you ask me, Jerry Springer looked damn good in his tux. If he promises not to throw chairs at me, I'd dance with him in a heartbeat.
I think I should get a commission from the airlines. Afterall, I'm doing exactly what THEIR agents are getting paid to do... book my itinerary and purchase my ticket. Plus, the agents have had actual training to do this. I of course, was never offered such help. And... now that I think of it, I should also get paid for having trained myself. This online trial and error method I have to go through, is for the birds.
