Tag Archives: travel

I’m not dead yet

10 Jan

Bet you thought I was gone forever, didn’t you?  Not quite – more of a hiatus.  You see, it’s weird how a personal photo of yours can end up on social media somewhere and anyone of your friends who knows you in real life but not on the interwebs could very easily make a connection that you’ve got this secret little writing gig.  So perhaps a self imposed holiday from the blogosphere is best.  But it’s been long enough and I have returned for random ramblings!

I could tell you that I have a serious beau and we’re getting ready to move in.  That he’s an absolute dreamboat and everything I ever dreamed of.  Or that maybe one night in a drunken stupor I called 3D and we knocked boots until dawn.  Or maybe that some failed judgement led to a night of debauchery with a coworker.  I could tell you all of those things, but they’d be down right lies.

But here’s what I can tell you that is not a lie: I’m leaving on a jet plane to Australia in two weeks.  In two weeks for six months.  That’s right, friends, I’m taking my shenanigans on the road and planning on making out with at least one Aussie with a dreamy accent.  Actually, I already have an eye on someone.  It just so happens that I have this coworker who is hotter than fuck and the heavens have aligned to make it so he and I will be sitting right next to one another.

Blond.  Blue eyes.  Accent.  Hot bod.  Why can’t he just be mine?

We’ll see what happens…

God Save the Queen, 2013

26 Aug

Like many couples, Oingo Boing and Jersey Belle (whose name I may change to Ginger Belle because I love targeting all my ginger jokes at her) do this awesome thing every single night when they go to bed.  No, not each other.  Rather, they have a lovely custom of saying a lovely string of things to one another.  There’s a really lovely bit in there about their love for all things British and our upcoming trip to the UK – where we’ll proceed to sight see, eat our faces off, drink too much, and someone (probably me) will end up vomiting.

God Save the Queen, 2013

Skinny England

Half price.

Skinny England.  It’s the reminder that we are less than thin by UK standards.  Let me in on a little something – this I know from personal experience – if you’re a size 14 in the US, you’re a size 16 in the UK.  Do you have any idea what it’s like to be a size 16 in a sea of size 6’s?  Not awesome.  And know what else?  Somehow, every single time I go to the UK, I try to remind myself that I need to drop at least 15 pounds and I end up gaining 10 just before I go.  My muffin top digs traveling.

In preparation all my travels later I’ve vowed to drop at least one pant size – seeing as how I’ll probably go up 2 when I start binging while I’m overseas.  For the last few Monday’s I’ve woken up and said, “Today’s the day.  Skinny England is on!”  Take today for example.  Packed my breakfast and lunch and vowed I’d eat a good dinner when I got home.

  • Fish tacos – good
  • Fruit – good
  • Bagel with cream cheese that I took over the granola bar I’d packed – bad
  • Ham and cheese sandwich on whole grain bread – not too bad, except for the fact that I buttered the bread
  • Potato chips – really?  What the hell is wrong with me…
  • Banana – good
  • Coffee with non fat milk – OK
  • Coffee with cream and 4 sugars – seriously?
  • Handful of M&M’s – I just can’t
  • Three MASSIVE chocolate cookies – I give up

So, instead of just starting all over tomorrow, I’ll just go ahead and say this week is shot and go ahead and gain the two pounds I’m destined to gain this week.  Tomorrow?  Margaritas!!  And probably some pie.

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25 Aug

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Protected: La Migra! La Migra!

1 Dec

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Time I’ll Never Get Back

8 Jun

An hour and a fucking half. That’s how long I was on the phone with my mother trying to solidify our fucking vacation plans this summer. We’re taking a family trip to Kiawah Beach, SC. The big question: what’s the best way to get down there with a toddler and an infant. I spent 90 minutes of my life answering (repeatedly) the following questions:

What if 2 of us drive and 2 of us take the train with the kids?
What if 2 of us drive and 2 of us fly with the kids?
What if 2 of us drive and 2 of us take the train down and then fly back with the kids?
What if 2 of us drive and 2 of fly down and take the train back with the fucking kids?
Should we all fucking drive down and stop 1/2 way at some shitty ass hotel so the kids don’t go bonkers in the fucking car?
How much are the plane tickets?
How much are the train tickets?
What if we go business class?
What if we buy one way tickets?
How much were the plane tickets again?
How much would it cost if we take coach class on the train and then fly back?

Here’s an important newsflash to my mother: I’m not a travel agent. Oh, and I have “work” to do. You have a computer at home-learn how to use it and make some of the god damned plans!!

Our resolution after all of this time “planning”? I’m glad you asked. 2 of us will be driving down on Friday with the kids and stopping half way while the other 2 leave on Saturday. We’ll all meet up in SC on Saturday. Somehow, I got picked as one of the 2 that’s going to be trapped in a car for 10 hours with the kids. How did that happen??

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8 Jun

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