I'll Follow the Sun

Goodbye work. Hello ten day vacation!

Me: This is the longest vacation I've ever taken.
Hubby: No, you went to Australia for six months.
Me: That was in 1987!

Redact. This is the longest vacation I've taken in 24 blinkin' years.

I. Cannot. Wait. A. Moment. Longer.

Look Around

Minutes ago, while I was sitting poolside with the kids enjoying the music, sunshine, blue sky, banana daiquiri and sound of crashing waves, I asked them, "Look around, what do you see?"

Son #1: I look around and feel lucky.

Son #2: I look around and see happiness.

Agreed.

Beach Bully

Only four standby seats. First four passengers on standby? US! Monkey and I started crying we were so happy.

This morning, we went to the beach where they were flying yellow "caution" flags. One big wave came and knocked us all down. I landed on Son #2.

"They should have the red flag out. Danger: could be tackled by mama." 

One Happy Island

How can a week of total relaxation speed by so quickly? How can swimming for hours in the pool followed by swimming for hours in the ocean (day in/day out) feel like a split second of time?

Conversely, how can sitting at my desk for only a few hours feel like an eternity?

What I liked about Aruba: 1) being with my mom and kids for a week, 2) the ocean was crystal clear and felt like bath water, 3) Oranjestad was clean and colorful, 4) the weather was perfect, perfect, perfect, 5) the entire island felt safe (unlike Jamaica where we were escorted to the airport by armed guards because there was a series of heists by gunpoint earlier that morning), 6) everyone we met was friendly, 7) we enjoyed heaps o' yummy food (i.e., a pro and a con), 8) we stayed at a beautiful resort, 9) there were no obligations and 10) no work!

One woman who worked at the hotel was telling us that she and her husband moved there from the Philippines with their kids ~20 years ago and they love it. She said they lived a casual lifestyle with no need to get caught up in the rat race. Sounds too good to be true.

On the other hand, we had this interesting little exchange one night while being seated at an outdoor restaurant on the beach. A bleached blonde with snake tattoo and faded, orange cotton mini-dress from J.C. Penney circa 1984 turned to greet us.

Blondie: Where are you from?
Me: Rochester, NY. You?
Blondie: I'm from Aruba and my friend here is from Holland.
Me: Wow. I don't mean this to sound insulting but you sound very American.
Blondie (sneering at me): First off, that IS insulting. Secondarily, I'm originally from Ohio.
Me: Oh. How long have you been here?
Blondie: Four years and I'm never going back.
Me (suppressing my desire to return the sneer to my new native friend): You must love it here.
Blondie (clearly mistaking my polite response for sheer idiocy): It's the same here as anywhere. You still have to wash your sheets and make your bed in the morning.
Me: I just thought it was a more relaxing lifestyle.
Blondie (looking at me with utter disdain and speaking slowly so my moronic brain could comprehend): Noooooooo. One happy island my ass.

Well alrighty then. Nice to meet you . . . ?

Ah well. Back to life, back to reality. And thanks for a fabulous trip mom!!

Sanity by Way of Serenity

"Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest." --Mark 6:31

I need to reconnect with God. I need a prayer retreat. Better yet, I need to spend a couple days immersed in complete and utter silence with just my Bible and a beach. No food. No friends. No worries.

I need to un-jumble my brain and listen.

"Be still and know that I am God." --Psalm 46:10

Fiesta de la Gringa

Had dinner with my boss and a client on Friday night at Richardson's Canal House. We had a glass of wine on the patio and watched the boats go by. Later we went into the pub for Kobe Beef burgers. This is the second time I had one of their burgers and the second time I was sick to my stomach afterward. The fat content must rival that of the entire Friendly's menu -- the only other restaurant that makes me ill with every visit. On the plus side, at least they serve alcohol at Richardson's. Next time: salad.

Saturday was spent at swimming, Little League, buying new camouflage crocs for Son #1 and shopping for red, white and blue gifts to celebrate Juana becoming an American citizen! Nothing says "congratulations" like cheap goods made in China. I heart USA socks. A red t-shirt bedazzled with fireworks. Statue of Liberty sunglasses. And three strands (i.e., red, white and blue) of Mardi Gras-like beads.

On Sunday, we had a picnic for Juana and her family on the beach complete with American food: turkey, chips, hotdogs in baked beans, fruit salad, chocolate chip cookies, cherry pie and frozen custard. I even made potato salad!! Me!!

Juana told us that her husband said he would take her to the movies to celebrate her new citizenship and she replied, "I'm a gringa now. I can take myself to the movies."

Finally, last night Son #2 and I went to Walking with Dinosaurs. He loved it. He pre-empted the announcer with every dinosaur that entered the arena (e.g., "Here comes ankylosaurus" or "That's a brachiosaurus") and knew whatever period we were entering when the last ended (i.e., "This should be the cretaceous period"). So I'm thinking that he didn't actually learn anything about dinosaurs that he didn't already know but seeing 40' high reptiles thunder around and attack each other was pretty darned thrilling. My advice to other parents: save your $100 and put it toward Disney. You can get an entire day in a theme park for the same price -- not just an hour-long show. Oh well. At least he'll remember it for . . . what, a week?

Smokin' Sunday

Went to Charlotte Beach today for the Roc City Rib Fest. The lines for the top barbecue joint were an estimated 90 people deep so we just had ribs and pulled pork sandwiches from other vendors. Seriously not nearly as good as the hubby's barbecue dishes but fun nonetheless.

The best part for me was spending a couple of hours on the beach in the sunshine. Not the best photo as you can barely see the water and the sailboats are tiny specks but the sand between my toes felt divine.

The perfect Sunday.

Sanibellisimo

TripAdvisor just posted my review of Sanibel Moorings. Thankfully, we've come a long way from my initial post of "Ay Carumba" (rating: one) for the Gran Caribe Real in Cancun as well as last summer's "OMG" (rating: two) for the HoJo off the thruway in PA on the way to the beach.

Now to hunker down and get to work.

Attack of the Clones

The boys and I are back from a week in Sanibel with my mom and our "surprise" guests: all my siblings and their spouses. And one little baby boy. Very relaxed and carefree. No major family dramas. Just perfect weather, sunshine, warmth, swimming, lounging, eating and drinking.

Happy (insert age here) Grannie Annie!

While there, I was kicking myself that I had run out of room on my camera's memory card. I was deleting old photos one by one just to make room for more but quickly tired of it and simply stopped taking pictures.

When I got home, I went to download the pictures I had taken only to find seven million (plus or minus a 2% margin of error) pictures of Son #1's Lego Clone Troopers stored on my camera. He must have spent an entire night with my camera making a lengthy, stop motion video. So much for my parental oversight.

Memories below of my trip vs. his trip:



Those Clone Troopers are doing a fine job of protecting the snorkeling mask but I think I'd rather have more pictures of my awesome family and the beach. Did I say "more"? I meant "some." Oh well. I'm sure we'll do it again when Grannie turns 100 . . .

He was a Clone Trooper, camera snapper, yeah
It took me so long to find out, and I found out
Clone Trooper, yeah

Rockenschpeel

According to research published last September by Uri Gneezy and Jason Shafrin from the University of California, San Diego, married individuals weigh more on average than non-married individuals. Why? Possibly because "exiting the dating market decreases one’s incentive to maintain their (sic) appearance and thus leads to an increase in body weight."

In other words, now that no man is ever going to look at me again (including my husband!), I may as well gorge myself on submarine sandwiches and Cheetos.

I bring this up only because I have to don a swimsuit in public tomorrow. And even though I'm not hitting the beach to impress others, I still have to see myself and, trust me, it ain't pretty.

The research also suggests that the hubby and I should threaten one another with divorce every so often given that "a higher probability that the relationship will terminate will compel individuals to maintain their appearance and body weight." Maybe we've become too complacent.

Yet, in all weighty matters such as these, I defer to Wilma.

Mini-weekend: Day 5

Another week -- another day off. Missed last week but it's okay because today I'm packing (yea!) for a week in Sanibel. I just wish the weather report looked a bit warmer. I love intense heat and it's only showing low 70s. Anyhoo, nobody likes a whiner. Time to pack the Snuggie.

Highlight of today: a fresh mani/pedi.

Potential highlight of the trip: a spring training game betwixt the Red Sox and the Pirates. Somehow this Mets/Yankees family spawned a Sox fan. Not sure how this DNA mix-up occurred but Son #2 is beside himself with anticipation. My wallet is anticipating a "Can I get a hat?" hit followed immediately by the "Hey, he got a hat. That's unfair. What can I get?" doublewhammy.

I simply cannot wait to hit the beach, relax, read a book, have an umbrella-laden cocktail and, I hope, enjoy the sunshine.

In unrelated travel news: TripAdvisor posted my review of our hotel in NYC. Not much to write about; therefore, not much to read. But I always feel compelled to share my two cents perhaps because I get so much value from that site. How did anyone plan trips before it?!

The Best Job in the World

Caretaker of the Islands of the Great Barrier Reef. What will I have to do? Blog for Tourism Queensland! Hey, I can do that!

Other duties: feed the fish, clean the pool, collect the mail.

It also pays ~$100K for a six-month assignment. Hello!

What they're looking for:

• Excellent interpersonal communication skills
• Good written and verbal English skills
• An adventurous attitude
• Willingness to try new things
• A passion for the outdoors
• Good swimming skills and enthusiasm for snorkeling and/or diving
• Ability to engage with others
• At least one year’s relevant experience
  

In other words: ME!

I can home school the kids on the beach for six months, right? And I could hang with Margaroo when she comes to visit from Brisbane every single weekend, right?

But would I have to learn how to cook?

Like a Rolling Stone

Hunkering down inside today given that we're having another 12-17" of snow. It's beautiful.

The other night, when the hubby's family came for Christmas, we began talking about Crete because my sister-in-law's best friend married a Greek man who now lives barefoot and begrudgingly on Long Island.

My girlfriends, sister and I were barefoot and begrudgingly poverty stricken on Crete many moons ago. After spending a few days in Athens seeing the sights, we had taken an industrial tanker to Crete and slept on bunk beds overnight just to save a buck. What we hadn't counted on was that there wasn't another cheap return to the mainland for another few weeks. So, after a number of days at the beach and nights at the disco, my sister and my roommate Bae flew back to London. I can't remember exactly when the others left. I just know that my girlfriends Gail and Oliver stayed in the little town of Malia with me until we could take the next tanker off the island.

Highlights of our visit included a) the creamy yogurt, b) the freshly made moussaka, c) dancing to "Vamos a la Playa" which was a big Eurotrash hit at the time, d) Oliver getting kissed on the lips by some Greek geezer who said, "You have such big, strong legs" (over which she was distraught for weeks -- not the kiss from an old man, mind you, but the fact that "he said I had big legs") and e) getting propositioned as we walked down the street by every guy who saw us (i.e., a crowd of young blonds and one gorgeous redhead). "Are you American?" "Will you marry me?" (Why not? Let's just skip the boring getting to know each other part.)

Once we finally arrived back in Athens, we found out that the bus we were planning to take to London was broken so we scored a fleabag hotel for approximately $1/night (i.e., $0.33/each). It had cockroaches the size of a man's shoe on the steps and the water didn't run. There was enough of a trickle in the sink to brush our teeth but no showers were to be had. We didn't have enough money to do much so we saved it for grilled cheese sandwiches each night in the deli across the street.

(Note: I'm sure our parents would have helped had they known but this was pre-cell phones and international ATMs. On a side note, the only call we did make from a payphone was to Scott Spezzano at Rochester's own WPXY because we heard "Sister Christian" one day and no one could remember the band. For those keeping score, it was Knight Ranger.)

Every time we walked in for "dinner," the owner of the restaurant would immediately play Dylan in the jukebox and call out "Three Cheese of America Sandwiches" as if he had known us for years.

How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown

On our last day, we were trailed through the city by some middle eastern guys and we became a little fearful. When they hopped on the bus that we took to the beach, sat a few seats behind us, jumped off where we did and followed us onto the beach, we were scared to death. As the first group of guys we passed called out to us, Gail threw her towel and bag down and pretended we were the best of friends. "Hi!" Oliver and I followed and we ended up spending the day at the beach with these kind strangers who ensured our safety and drove us back to the hotel.

The next morning, we awoke to the cops outside. Our hotel was being condemned and we were being evicted. Oh well. When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.

Yes Sway

If you're looking for a beach read that's business-related (really, and who isn't?), I just finished Sway: The Irresistable Pull of Irrational Behavior by Ori and Rom Brafman. Loved it.

It's an interesting, smart, thought-provoking, page turner filled with research-backed stories that explain how and why, among other things, well educated doctors can send a child home to die, seasoned pilots can cause deadly air disasters, otherwise intelligent students at Harvard would pay over $200 for a twenty dollar bill, the University of Florida Gators rose to the top, etc.

In the midst of the compelling behavioral anecdotes are a number of "lessons learned" that can easily be applied to our day-to-day lives when making pricing decisions, communicating with clients, developing incentive programs, and so on.

And I now know how to effectively get men to call me. Where was this book twenty years ago?!

The Beach!

Finally, the weekend is upon us! Driving to Long Island to meet up with my girlfriends and families -- yes, the trip I had to cancel at the last minute last year has resurfaced. Yea!

I just looked at pictures from two years ago to get even more excited.

Eating watermelon:


Playing soccer on the croquet lawn after an aborted tournament:


Cannot wait another second.

Given that today is my "day off," I just said to my coworker, Scott, who is conducting some research for me, "I'm going to grab everything you've done on my way out the door at 1:00 p.m."

He responded, "Sounds great. Way to get away from it all."

Easter Forgiveness

Years ago, I went to Charlotte beach on Lake Ontario with my girlfriend Anita -- a beautiful girl from Drogheda Ireland with whom I had traveled to Portugal one summer and who later came to live in Rochester for a brief moment in time.



We were sitting on the beach surrounded by girls with big hair wearing tiny, neon bikinis. And their boyfriends were wearing leather vests over their shirtless chests along with jeans (i.e., not shorts). Perfect for an 80 degree day.

Anita turned to me and quoted Jesus' words from the cross in Luke 23:34, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

I think of her every Easter and hope that she's doing well wherever she is!