The 5 Ps

Wow, I haven't posted in a while. Let me see if I can sum up stuff:

Parenting -- The Czarina, a good friend of the family and my favorite aunt came down to visit me a few weeks ago. There was much shopping and laughing and dating advice (directed at me, of course). They all harped on me for being too picky and judgmental and for writing off guys before I even meet them. I countered with the fact that I refuse to settle and vow to keep my standards high. Therefore, no, I am not interested in flirting with guys who I can tell are not smart. I am tired of meeting cute guys who have nothing between their ears. I want someone who can stimulate me intellectually. They were baffled by this and can't believe I am not flirting like crazy with the hot (and yes, ok, they are hot) firemen across the street. But show me the fireman who can talk about politics, philosophy or anthropology! They don't exist! As soon as I make out with one, and my hormones get all stimulated, I will begin justifying all their flaws and end up in a dead end relationship. My mother and aunt disagreed completely and told me I was being judgmental. Am I? Probably. So I promised them I would try and be more open-minded.

Pressure -- We had a big re-org at work about 2 weeks ago. It was pretty crazy. The Gorilla got fired (thank goodness -- he was so toxic!). I know it sounds like I am taking pleasure from another's misfortune, and well, ok, I guess I am a little. Wrong, I know. But mostly, I am just relieved, as I'm sure he is. He was such a bad fit and he was miserable. So, this was really better for everyone. We also had to lay off one girl, which was NOT part of the original plan. We felt really badly about it. Now New Girl (my other half at work -- seriously, I love this girl) and I are working with a skeleton crew. It's going to be bumpy and stressful for a bit, but I think we will get there. There are a few people who now have totally new jobs and have to be trained from scratch -- so it's a little wonky at the moment. Luckily, there was minimal drama and most people are happy or they at least understand why we did what we did. Some people even got promotions, so that is good. Man, I am glad that is over. It was all I thought about for 2 months.

Peppy -- I have 2 new neighbors. One I will call Peppy. She lives across the hall from me and even though my coworkers call me Susie Sunshine, even I can barely handle this girl's too-happy and perky personality. She minors in performing arts, so she sings all the time. While she is a talented singer, it's kind of annoying. I sing when I'm alone, too, but quietly. This girl belts it out. And it's usually show tunes or cheesy romantic songs. Argh. As if this wasn't bad enough, she found a dog on the side of the road, and I'm worried she is going to keep it. This dog barks. And barks and barks and barks. Then it whines and whines and whines. Any time Peppy is not home or asleep, let the barking and whining begin. Kind of annoying. For some unexplainable reason, she thinks I am interested in being friends. Which is fine. But she found me on Facebook and friended me. What the heck?! I can't deny the request -- I will see her soon enough. I hate being pressured into being FB friends. (That goes for you, too, you weird cousin of mine!!!) Sorry, I have a weird cousin. I try to deny the friendship requests, but they keep coming. Luckily, he lives in South America, so it's a lot easier to deny him....sorry, now I am off-topic.

Miss Perfect -- I have another new neighbor who lives upstairs. I will call her Miss Perfect. Obviously, she is not perfect, but I certainly can't see any flaws: she looks like a supermodel (she doesn't even need to wear makeup, y'all, it's kind of sick), she's really in shape (triathalons are her main hobby -- what?!), her apartment is gorgeous (makes mine look like a dorm room) and she's smart (she has a PhD in Psychology). She has no debt, other than her car. Yeah. Oh, and did I mention that she is incredibly nice, friendly and has a fun personality? And that she thinks I am cool? Yeah. This girl is unreal. To make her even more awesome, she is my age AND single. Yeah. Believe it or not, this chick is single. Don't get me wrong, she has already met someone after living here for only 3 weeks. But she's not that into him. Something she can totally afford to do.

In short, she's the girl I hate to love. I hate her. But I can't, 'cause she's really nice and cool. So I have to admit that I like her. Even though I feel like I have just been slimed by the Envy Monster. *sigh* And my feelings of inadequacy are causing me to wonder why she wants to hang out with me. Because she's new in town and doesn't know anyone? Probably. I predict I will be friend-dumped as soon as she finds someone more worthy to hang out with. Wow, I am cynical today, aren't I?

My first inclination that she and I come from two different worlds was when I confessed to her that I have put on a lot of weight in the last few years, but that I was trying to make some changes and get back in shape (I first met her as I was coming back inside from a run). "Oh, I know what you mean. I am in love with junk food, too. Last week, I ate an ENTIRE watermelon. And that's basically just sugar." I was totally speechless. How many calories are in an entire watermelon? Like, 100? I decided to stay mum about my ability to eat two candy bars in one sitting, as I proved to myself a week ago. Wow. Talk about feeling like a loser. Who is this girl???

I'm trying to use her as inspiration. You see, she is super optimistic about her love life -- something that is very refreshing to my pessimistic, cynical view of the opposite sex. She is not giving up, but trying harder. She's one of those super goal-oriented people. And I have to admit, it's kind of awesome. "Ok, your goal is to get a date for this coming weekend," she said to me yesterday over coffee. "Um, yeah! Ok!" I replied, while thinking, "Yeah, right, lady. I'm overweight and my self-esteem isn't the greatest. I have essentially resigned myself to living alone for ever and wouldn't be able to attract Weird Al Yankovic right now." But somehow, she talked me into signing up for eHarmony. And I'm super broke right now (long story). But I did it anyway. This girl is not taking no for an answer. She wore me down. She's right. I can't give up. I have to keep trying.

Positive Attitude -- So, if nothing else, Miss Perfect is giving me a swift kick in my ass. Which is probably exactly what I need. Here's to hoping that some of her perfection and optimism rubs off on me. Let the games begin!

Digital Hysteria

I decided to take a break from all my stressful moving duties and started looking for something to make me laugh.

I found a website that I can't believe I have never heard of: Stuff White People Like. It is a riot. Ever wonder why we like Farmer's Markets? Or Girls With Bangs? Or why we are ok with Taking a Year Off? This website explains (in a tongue-in-cheek way) why white people act the way they do. It's been very enlightening thus far. I'm learning a lot about myself. Because I'm about as white as it gets.

And of course, I am relying on my old stand-bys for a Friday afternoon laugh: FAIL blog, Engrish and LOL Dogs. If you don't know these, you can do a google search for them.

But what I really want to share with you is this video my coworker sent to me today. It's about the whole digital tv deadline in a few weeks. You know -- regular tvs won't work anymore and we all have to get digital cable or converter boxes, yada yada. OMG I was crying laughing at this. I watched it twice it was so funny. Enjoy, y'all. And have a great weekend!!!

The $300 Water Bottle

I am nothing if not determined. And patient. And thorough.

Y'all would die laughing if you knew how I spend my time on some days. I can spend a week looking for a song I heard. Once, I spent a week looking for a friend of mine from childhood, Tori Condorodis. (Tori, if you are reading this, I have been looking for your ass for years, girl! YEARS!) I have stubbornly hunted down lyrics, book titles, SNL skits, the cheapest airline tickets, historical facts, urban legends, etymology tidbits, untold unusual items on eBay, the perfect paint color for my bathroom and recipes for coconut cheesecake. And then there's the whole genealogy thing I've been on for the past few months. That's an entirely different story!

It's only made worse by the fact that I'm a professional librarian, because not only do I know where to go and how to search for something, I am also trained to be resourceful and think of other ways to find whatever it is I'm looking for when I hit a stumbling block.

And today, I have hit a big one. So I am taking a break from my searching before I scream and pull out my hair so that I may vent here.

A little back story for you. Right when we first started dating, I mentioned to CN how much I disliked most re-usable water bottles on the market. I don't like the ones with the straws, because the straws are too difficult to clean, and sometimes they fall off the lid, which causes you to stop what you're doing, unscrew the lid and stick the straw back in. I hate the ones you squeeze, because I somehow either end up choking on the water or spilling it everywhere. I don't like the ones where you have to unscrew a top to get to the water. And all the other ones I've tried are poorly made, and break too easily. Or they are too tall to fit into the dishwasher. I just got a new one, and it is horrid -- it leaks EVERYWHERE. I have been on a quest for a great water bottle for years, people. YEARS. On the top shelf of my kitchen cupboard resides a graveyard of discarded water bottles that didn't make the cut.

One day a few weeks later, CN came over and told me he had gotten me something. This is one of my favorite things he says, so he had my undivided attention. From behind his back, he pulled out a large, green water bottle.

It.

Was.

Perfect.

High quality plastic, a beautiful green color, large enough to hold enough water for a long workout, a little plastic ring to make it easy to carry...and the best part of all: a GENIUS lid. All you do is push this little button, and the top flips up to reveal an ergonomical spout from which to drink your water -- no squeezy thing, no straws. When closed, the lid protects the spout and the water from germs, dirt and debris. Which was a feature I hadn't even thought of, but instantly loved.

"And it's dishwasher safe," CN explained proudly.

I may have fallen in love with him right at that moment.

Do you see where this is going? Yeah. About a month or so ago, I lost it. I cannot find it anywhere, not even in my car, which is where my lost things usually end up. The last time I remember having it, I was finishing up a workout with my trainer. Despite my repeated pleadings with the gym staff to search in the lost and found "just one more time, please", it has not turned up. The gym staff thinks I am a psycho, because I come up to the desk once a week, frantically searching for a stupid $5 water bottle, but I don't care. I am lost without it. I regret that I never truly appreciated the water bottle until I lost it. It was always my favorite, mostly because CN gave it to me, but now I appreciate it for its impeccable design.

My first instinct was to ask my trainer if he'd picked it up for me. No dice. (He also looked at me like I was a little crazy.) Since then, I have scanned the gym every time I am there, looking for the bastard who ganked my bottle. I know what happened. I left it sitting on a bench while I dug for my keys, and then I just left it there when I walked out. Someone with a good eye for a perfect water bottle came along and decided to just keep it. Which is really stealing, in essence. A responsible person, like yours truly, returns things to the front desk. (I found a watch once, and a wallet -- I promptly turned them in to the staff. You'd think karma would pay me back for that!!!)

But one day, they will screw up. I know it. Right now, they are laying low, hiding out with my water bottle. They probably only use it at home or at work. They are too afraid to return to the scene of the crime with it. But one day.....one day....They will forget that they stole it, and bring it to the gym, where I will see them using it, and confront them, probably with much hostility. And possible bloodshed. *In Arnold Schwarzenegger voice* I will get it back.

This is what I get for not appreciating my bottle!! It has been taken away from me!! And given to someone else who loves it, probably as much as I do!! And I cannot even bear to tell CN that I lost it. It is my dirty little secret I am keeping from him. I am ashamed of myself. One of the best things he ever gave me, and I carelessly leave it laying around for someone who is too cheap to go buy his own water bottle.

Just to rub salt into the wound, that bitch Karma has ensured that I will never be able to get a water bottle like that again. The store where CN got it no longer sells them. Which prompted me to go on a searching binge to buy one online. "Oh, one little trip over to Amazon.com will take care of that," I thought.

Not so fast, VB. Amazon only sells your average, flawed water bottles. So does Target. And Walmart. And Dick's Sporting Goods. And the camping supply store in town. And all the grocery stores (yes, I have visited just about every one in town). Buying one off of eBay just doesn't sound like a good idea. Who knows where the water bottle has been??

An intensive, hours-long Internet search led me to -- JOY!! -- a website selling the same bottle, but with a company logo on it. Logo, schmogo -- I wanted my water bottle NOW! Who cares if it promotes a company? I click "Buy" and...

"This item is no longer available."

Are you freaking kidding me.

I went back to the drawing board. Eventually, I managed to find out the make and model of the water bottle. (Yes, it's like a car. This is the Cadillac of water bottles, I'm telling you.) Now, I have something to work with!! Surely, some retailer sells these little buggers online! I did a search for the make and model. A bazillion hits. Jackpot!!!!

Upon further inspection, I realize that Little Miss Karma is a sick, evil and twisted little bitch: the bottles are only sold through those business promotions companies, you know, the places where you go to get your company logo put onto 450 coffee cups or 1600 ballpoint pens.

In my frenzied state of desperation, I almost went for it: "Ok, let's see. I can get 36 of them for $7.19 each...plus a $50 flat rate for the order set-up....which comes out to....$308.84. Plus shipping. Hmmm. Maybe I can get an Indiana University logo on it...or a cute message, and then I can give them out as gifts! Yeah!"

When reality set back in, I realized this was far too much to spend on water bottles. Worse yet, my friends would hate me for giving them a stupid water bottle every year for their birthdays. "But check out the lid! It flips! Isn't that awesome? This year, I decided to give you a purple one!" I would say.

*sigh*

So, my search continues. But if you are one of those people who orders the little freebies with the company logo imprinted on them, will you please get your logo put onto H2Go's Zuma water bottle?? I'll take any color. I'll buy 10 from you. And I will I verbally promote your business until the cows come home! I promise!

And if you happen to see one of my beloved Zuma water bottles for sale at your local store, please buy me 3 of them. Trust me, I will make it worth your time! Here's a photo, which can be easily printed out and carried in your wallet for reference purposes:

Blogging Rut

Can you tell I'm in a blogging rut? It's just one of those times in your life where there isn't much going on, and I don't want to bore my readers with mundane things, so I just don't blog. Life hits lulls in action like this sometimes. Maybe it is the quiet before the storm?

Random updates..........(this will be super-random, I apologize, but it's been a long day at the library!)

First let me say that if you are a vet, thank you for serving our country. I cannot imagine the sacrifice our veterans have made over the decades and am grateful to all veterans for keeping us safe and free. If I could, I would be proud to shake your hand. :)

Yes, I am still obsessed with genealogy. I will spare you the details. But I haven't really been up to much else. That is so sad to type that, and then read it. And realize it's a statement about yourself...*sigh* I am 29, yet I live the life of an 83 year old. What can I say? I have never been cool. Why start now? There's no use in denying my lack of general hipness.

As I predicted in my last post, Lady Starfish did not call. I am not really surprised by that, and not really sure what to do. After a certain point, it takes two people to make a friendship work. I feel like I have always been the one to do the work. Then again, as we can see from the last paragraph, it's not like she's missing much.

Speaking of friendships...

Did I tell you that my roommate, E, moved out? She moved out at the end of October. Which is fine by me. Things had been...uncomfortable between us for some time. The random guy in her bed (uh, there's a post on it...somewhere...) was pretty much the nail in the coffin for our peaceful cohabitation. Although I will miss having the extra money, it is such a relief to know that I don't have to share my house with anyone else anymore. To be honest, she was driving me batty, and I don't know if I can even still be friends with her. What is that saying....familiarity breeds contempt? Yes, I think that sums it up pretty well. I might blog more about this at a later point. I'm starting to think that there is something wrong with me, as I am starting to not like most people the older I get....hmmm. This might deserve a post of its own...perhaps my personality is aging faster than my body? I am starting to feel like a cranky old fart trapped in an overweight young person's body......oh dear......

I didn't do much for Halloween. JP (my other partner in crime) and I went to MJ's house to give out candy to trick-or-treaters and watch a scary movie. The trick-or-treaters never showed up, so JP and I got to take home all the left over candy. Which is great if you have a sweet tooth, but BAD if you have a sweet tooth AND you're trying to lose weight. (And to answer your question, no, I have not lost any weight. And I don't want to talk about it.) We watched a movie called The Strangers, and it was pretty good. It definitely had some freaky moments.

After that, I got a pretty bad cold, so I felt like crap all last week-- up until yesterday, really. I was Kleenex Queen. All I wanted to do was take swigs from a bottle of Nyquil, nap on my couch and eat soup.

Let's see. What else has been going on.

Sammy has an ear infection.

MJ is dating a hot French guy.

I am getting back into working out again (still waiting for diet motivation to make an appearance, however...).

Last night, I dreamt that I was on a road trip with Barack Obama. I was riding shotgun in a beat-up pick up truck, and I said something funny, and we had a good laugh. That's all I remember.

Oh, and CN used the phrase, "...or I could get you a ring." the other day.

:0

Yup. You read that correctly. More later. I will keep you hanging for now!

Genealogics Anonymous

OMG. I need help, you guys. I am not exaggerating when I say that just about every waking minute of every day for the last week or so has involved me talking about genealogy, researching genealogy or thinking about genealogy.

MJ is about to kill me she is so sick of me talking about it.

CN caved in to my nagging, and is now letting me research his family, too.

To make it even worse, Ancestry.com gives you a free 14 day trial, so I'm trying to milk every last free minute out of them.

I have found relatives in Oklahoma, Seattle, Chicago, Massachusetts, Iowa, Minnesota, NYC, Kansas, St. Louis, Wisconsin, Virginia, upstate New York and Connecticut.

I have found the following weird first names: Karona, Gerhard, Aloysius, Cornelia, Herbert, Velvet, Elisha, Hepzebah, Bertha, Adelaide, Jerusha, Augustus, Eleazer, Ephraim, Jabez, Dorcas, Larvina, Hezekiah, Ulysses, Isolde, Chamberlain, Mercy, Ruke, Ebenezer, Asaph, Huldah, Prince, Waitstill, Celestine, too many Gertrudes to count and my favorite name so far: Bartimus.

I have found Revolutionary War heroes, Civil War casualties, steamboat operators, inventors, someone who went to court with Henry Ford, professors, dentists, judges, lawyers, real estate agents, oil company managers, doctors, bookstore owners, hardware salesmen, railroad engineers, preachers, and of course, lots and lots and LOTS of farmers.

I have, according to Ancestry.com, traced my family back to the 1380s (!!) in England. Obviously, there's no way to prove the records are correct, but then again, there's probably no way to disprove them, either.

Every once in a while, I stumble upon cool family stories and photos that other genies haves submitted to Ancestry.com or one of the other websites I'm using. Which is basically like crack to me. I will spare you these stories for now. Because telling them will only fan the flames. I am dealing with a serious addiction! Don't believe me?

These are the signs of an addiction:

Loss of interest in things that were important before.
Long, unexplained absences.
Decrease in performance at work or school.
Wanting to participate in addictive activity at all times of the day.
Increased desire for more of the activity.
Participating in the activity alone for long periods of time.
High tolerance for participating in the activity.
Preoccupation or craving.
Continued use.
Withdrawl symptoms.
Finding an excuse for doing it.

I'm even annoying myself at this point. I am not interested in going out, working out, reading a book or watching tv. For me, it's All Genie, All the Time. What if I can't stop? What if I turn into a shriveled up, little old lady genealogist who cannot hold normal conversations, because she constantly asks if you're referring to the Iowa McCrackens or the Minnesota McCrackens? ? Genealogy is pretty addictive, because there's always one. more. person. to. find.

Everyone has a mother and a father. And most people have siblings. It could go on forever.

I (obviously) haven't done much work, haven't gone to the gym, haven't cleaned my house...I haven't done much of anything, including blog reading. I am going to try and go on detox here this week, so I need your support. I think that in baby steps, I can make it out ok and come back to the world of the living.

Hi, my name is Virginia. And I'm a genealogy addict.

I Love Savannah

I just realized I haven't posted in a while. Oops!

In a nutshell, I have been busy with my family genealogy project and taking a trip to one of my favorite places, Savannah, GA.

To be more specific...

I have been emailing with my mother's cousin, who as it turns out, is the "keeper" of the family history on my mother's side. This part of my family were German immigrants living in Illinois and Missouri beginning in the 1860s. So she has emailed me TONS of stuff, and it turns out that my great-great-grandpa fathered THIRTEEN children. Wowza. She also emailed me a pdf file of a photo of the family, taken around 1905, which is SO FREAKING COOL, I have been staring at it all day. I wanted to post it here to share, but it's a pdf file, which Blogger does not support, and I can't figure out how to save it any other way. Anyway, here's the cool part: my mom's cousin (Debbie) is going to be mailing me a family history book she has put together!!! I can't wait for the UPS truck. It is seriously like Christmas for me.

I won't bore you with all the family history bits of info I have learned today, because I've probably already bored you enough. I know MJ is sick of me talking about it. After a lengthy and overly-excited text message about all of this to her, I received a one-word reply. Hmmm. Not exactly the reply I was hoping for.

"I need to find a genealogy buddy, dont' I?" I asked her.

"Yes. Please." was her reply, if I remember correctly.

So enough about that. I am quickly becoming aware of how genealogy can bore some people. If you want more, let me know. "Genies" can talk about it all day, you know. :)

I will now move this post in an entirely different direction, to a topic most people really enjoy: travel. I had to go to Savannah this past weekend for a conference. Oh, woe is me. ;) Since CN and I never really did anything for our one year anniversary, I decided to take him with me so we could sorta celebrate. I have funny CN stories to share, but today, I want to give you a review of what it's like to visit Savannah.

OMFG we had the best time. This was the 2nd time we had been to Savannah. CN went about 8 years ago for their huge annual St. Patty's Day festival, and I went about 3 years ago for another conference. It was so much more fun to go with someone -- last time, I had to eat and explore alone. I was too worried about getting lost to do much exploring at all that time. This seriously impacted my dining experiences. This time was much better!

We drove down on Thursday and had lunch at Belford's. Holy cow was that a fantastic lunch: crab cakes and a kobe beef burger topped with brie and carmelized onions. I was wondering why the crab cakes were so expensive, until I took a bite to find that they were 100% crab meat and covered in a super duper yummy lemony-garlic sauce. Mmmmm!!!

This was just the first of many delicious meals. We also ate at Lady & Sons, which is Paula Deen's restaurant. Although it is a tourist trap and overpriced, it does have the BEST fried chicken I have ever put in my mouth. I think they are battered in a mixture of flour and crack. So if you ever go, just get a big plate of fried chicken. Skip the rest. You will be glad you did.

Also on our culinary tour of Savannah: fantastic Thai at Ruan Thai on Broughton Street, and excellent Italian at Corleone's (I highly recommend the baked beef tortellini in marinara sauce).

We really didn't have a bad meal the whole time. Even a dive bar we stopped in had great fish and chips. You really can't go wrong in Savannah. And all the people are so friendly! Everyone wanted to know where we were from and what we were looking to do while in town -- where else does THAT happen??

All throughout the downtown/historic area, nestled between neighborhood parks and along Broughton Street, there are lots of really cool home decor stores, galleries and boutiques. I went to many of these stores. Let me tell you about my favorites. Kilwin's makes some of the best fudge I have ever had in my life -- toasted coconut with chocolate swirled into it. Holy cow, it was a flavor explosion of joy in my mouth. I still can't believe it's a chain. Red Clover, Bleu Belle and James Gunn had really cool (expensive!!) clothes and a very friendly staff. Zia's had amazing handmade jewelry. But by far, my favorite stores were the home decor stores: The Paris Market, which sold lots of vintage housewares and French imports and DC2 Designs, which reminded me of a Z Gallerie. But by far, my absolute favorite was called @ Home Vintage General Store. Cute stationery, office supplies, cookbooks, linens, baby gifts, picture frames, sewing notions and other decorative household goods, all with a vintage 1950s flair. Half the stuff in there WAS vintage -- board games, school suppiles, sewing stuff, etc. CN had to drag me out of there. I would get back in my car right now, just to drive down and visit this store again.

Savannah is one of the most haunted cities in America, and since CN and I are both big ghost story fans, a ghost tour was obligatory. We went on this tour, and our guide was a great story teller, as well as very knowledgeable about Savannah and the homes he was describing to us. He had even been inside and interviewed a resident of my favorite haunted house of the tour. It is located on East Charlton St. Here's a photo I found on Google Earth:


Do you see the big trash bin in front of it? That wasn't there when I saw the house, but it was probably there recently, because it is being renovated. Why is it being renovated? Because they cannot get anyone to live in it, so they are trying to spruce it up! Which is quite odd, because it's in a gorgeous and old neighborhood in Savannah's historic district. It's practically next door to one of Savannah's most prominent landmarks -- the Hamilton-Turner house (which is also haunted). You might recognize the Hamilton-Turner house from the movie, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. So why can't they get anyone to live in it? Because there's a poltergeist there! It opens the cabinets in the kitchen, moves the furniture in the living room and re-arranges the pictures on the wall. Anyway, the last people to live there left very suddenly, after only being there for less than a year. They were so freaked out, they didn't even take their furniture with them!!! It took them a year to work up the courage to come back for their stuff. That was in 1996. It's been vacant ever since. The house was listed at around $200k, the last time it was on the market. This is a total steal. If you're willing to live in a supposedly haunted house....where an old lady died in a bathtub....which may have been a suicide, because the woman had been talking to the ghost for many years...eek!!

And if you know anything about ghosts, you know that all renovations do is stir up more ghost activity, usually of the angry and violent kind. They probably should not be messing around in there, if you ask me. :)

Anyway, when the guide was telling us about this house, I got chills up my leg. Then, if we wanted, we could climb the steps and peer in the little window next to the front door (not visible in the photo above). Of course, I was all about this. But when I looked inside, I got an uber-creepy feeling and turned right around! This house totally gave me the creeps. Which only made me want to go back, of course!

But it will have to wait until next time, along with untested restaurants and unexplored shops. I can't wait until I can go to Savannah again.

The pervasive and excellent cuisine and shopping, combined with a laid-back and creative people (courtesy of the large art student population) and spooky atmosphere (Spanish moss, huge oak trees, witchcraft and haunted antebellum mansions have a tendency to create that) resulted in CN and I agreeing that Savannah is far, FAR cooler than Charleston.

Seriously, Charleston is the snobby, less-cool cousin of Savannah. Yes, that is how I would explain the differences in a nutshell. If you need a vacation recommendation, this one gets 5 stars from me!

CNversations

I need to do a better job at remembering to share the funny conversations CN and I have. He seriously cracks me up. Other times, I'm stupid and/or deaf, which makes an otherwise mundane conversation hilarious.

A few weeks ago, I stopped by his house when I got home from work. I was sitting on a barstool, talking to him while he was in the kitchen, re-heating some leftovers for me. I hadn't had dinner, and I was starved.

"So, babe, did you have a good day? What happened, anything interesting?" I asked.

What he said: "Yeah. Not much. How 'bout you?"

What I heard: "Yeah. Not much. I love you."

"AWWWWWWWWW!!!! That was so sweet! I love you, too!" I exclaimed.

A look of total confusion spread across his face.

"Um, ok. But I didn't say that," he replied.

We had a good laugh about it. And now, when we are feeling goofy, instead of saying "I love you" we say "How 'bout you?". He loves to say that I hear what I want to hear and that I don't listen, citing this conversation as evidence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every once in a while, CN will be driving around town somewhere for work and he will call me for help. Since he conducts background checks on people, he has to interview a lot of people all over town all day: former employers, former teachers, ex-spouses, etc. Sometimes, his GPS system won't find an address he needs, so he calls me at work so I can look it up for him on Mapquest and give him directions.

Today was one of those days.

"Hi, babe! I was wondering if you could look up an address for me," he said.

"Sure! Let me pull up Mapquest here..." I said, typing. "Ok, what's the address?"

"200 Hardwood," he said.

*pause*

"Wait...did you just say 'hard wood'?" I asked, stifling a giggle.

"Yeah, baby! As in hard wood!" he answered, using a silly voice. I could practically see him doing some pervy hip thrust, complete with the white man's overbite and emphatic arm thrusts.

I laughed.

Then, he gave the obligatory joking reference to his own "member", which I will not share here, much to the relief of my audience, I am sure. (I swear, it is a law of manhood that at every opportunity, a guy is supposed to reference his...member. Men are obsessed with their own penises. Obsessed. It's ridiculous.)

"Good grief," I replied, rolling my eyes. "What pervert named that street?" I said.

"I know, right?" he replied.

I searched for the address in Mapquest. No results.

"I can't find hard wood," I replied, grinning.

[Insert CN's 2nd perverted reference to his member here. Yes, I walked into it, I know. Ah, the joys of dating a fellow pervert...]

"That's ok, babe. I'll just call the guy back and ask him to give me directions," CN said.

We said good-bye and got off the phone. I wonder how CN phrased it...maybe he had to stop and ask someone on the way over there....

Yes, hi, I can't seem to find Hardwood...

I'm sorry, but I've looked everywhere, and I just can't seem to figure out where Hardwood is...

My GPS is telling me there's no Hardwood anywhere around here...

Sorry to bother you, but do you know how to get to Hardwood?

Tee hee. I hope no one yells at him for being a pervert!

What's in a Name??!

If you know me in real life, you know that I always have a project. Almost like a temporary hobby. It will stick around for a few weeks, and then I move on to something else. Every time, I either become bored with it or I find something new. It's like I'm OCD, but also ADD at the same time. Now, I don't know if that means there's something wrong with me, but it's definitely not out of the question.

Some of my former projects include: cake decorating, scrapbooking, learning anything and everything about NYC, home decorating, learning about the trucking industry, foreign languages...I could go on and on, but I won't bore you. I will be the first to admit that many of my projects are on the boring/geeky side. And my friends enjoy some projects more than others -- the cake decorating one was especially popular.

My current project? Genealogy. My training as a librarian comes in very handy for this. And I have learned that you can never really finish genealogy, because there's always another relative to look up. Which is probably why this is the 2nd or 3rd time I have tackled this project. This time around, I am even helping coworkers and friends look for their families online. It is super fun!!! (And yes, if you want me to see what I can dig up for you, just email me!)

It is also a genetically inherited interest, I believe. My dad, WLF, was also bitten by the "genie" bug. He actually researched both sides of his family, all the way back to our first immigrant ancestors to America. Which is pretty amazing, considering my first ancestor came over on the Mayflower. That's a lot of work! I remember when I was a kid, WLF and his sister went up to New York state to do research. Even as a kid, I thought it was so cool and wanted to go with them.

Eventually, WLF had the family trees written out and framed. They now hang in the basement at The Czarina's house. Every time I go to visit her, I stare at them. I wonder what these long-dead ancestors were like. Do I have their nose? Their sense of humor? If I could ever talk to them, what would I want to ask them? What amazing events had they witnessed? What would they think about the world today? (I guess even as an adult, I still have a kid's imagination and inquisitiveness!)

The Czarina, on the other hand, doesn't have much interest in all of this genealogy stuff. Maybe that's because her family just arrived in the United States in the mid-to-late 1800s. Her family tree is just so short and so simple -- 3 generations on each side, mostly Irish, with a generous glob of German thrown in. She pretty much already knows everything. Her father's side -- the Irish side-- is the part of my family I'm most interested in. We are pretty sure they fled the Potato Famine of the 1850s, but we've never been positive. Most of my time working on this "genie" stuff has been spent looking up info on Irish-American immigrants, or, as I like to call them, "my people". LOL. I'm even now trying to learn more about the history of Ireland so I can understand "my people" a little better. After all, I am genetically more Irish than anything else. (My dad was a total mutt!)

Although I do know a lot about both sides of my family, it's still fun for me to look things up. I like to see if I can find any undiscovered bits of information lurking out there in the old census records and other resources. What I have found is that it must be really easy to avoid the census takers, because there are entire branches of my family that are not even listed. I can't even find one of my grandfathers! This makes researching even more challenging and fun for me. I am determined to find stuff! So that's what I've been into lately.

What I want to share with you are some of the really weird, out-of-style, old-fashioned names in my family. Here is a list, drawn from both sides of my family:

Wilbur
Harold
Ephraim
Elijah
Ebenezer
Chastity
Prudence (can you tell I have some Puritanical roots? LOL)
Eulella
Euphemia (my whole family agrees this sounds more like a disease than a name!)
Gertrude (this name is VERY popular on my dad's side, for some reason)
Elmer
Mabel
Ida
Sylvester (UGH! horrible name!)
Arabella
Florence
Agnes
Cordelia

No offense to anyone with those names. I just think they are...unusual. I actually like some of them -- Arabella and Cordelia and Elijah are all fine by me. It's just interesting to see how names fall in/out of fashion. Sometimes WAY out. LOL

Of course, in my family we have a lot of perfectly normal, common names, too. Lots of Thomases, Josephs, Benjamins, Sarahs, Catherines, Marys, Pauls, Henrys, Jessies, Jameses and Marthas.

But it's no fun to talk about normal names! Let's talk about the weird ones! Do you have any unusual or old-fashioned names in your family? Share with me! I love learning about this stuff.

My Little and How Camp Traumatized Me

I was recently matched up with a Little Sis from Big Brothers Big Sisters. YAY!!!

Her name is V. She's 11 and about to start 6th grade. I was really excited to hear that she is this age, because middle school was the most difficult time for me when I was a kid. That's when I was picked on by bullies and when I felt at my most awkward -- glasses AND braces. To make it even worse, I was the first girl in my class to hit puberty. It was a rough time. So I am excited to be there to support her and be someone she can talk to, because I know how mean 12 year olds can be. I'm hoping that I can help her have enough confidence to weather the storm, you know?

She's really nervous to start 6th grade next week. I told her that the first couple of weeks might be a little sticky, but after that, she'll be a pro. Luckily, lockers don't seem to phase her. I, on the other hand, would have daily battles with the lock on my locker throughout my 6-12 grade years. My stubborn locks caused me to be tardy many times. I never did get the hang of combination locks, and I still avoid them to this day. So I was relieved to hear that she found them to be of no concern.

Her concern is more about getting to the right classroom at the right time. I can totally understand. A natural rules follower myself, this was my secondary concern when I was a student. (The first, of course, being those g-d combination locks.) So I told her that the teachers usually give everyone a break for the first week or so, until you get your little routine down. I told her by the third day, she will feel pretty comfy with where things are. She seemed relieved to hear this.

V and her little (biological) sister live with their mom and grandma. They just got a dog who looks like a pit bull mix. Her name is Zoe and she's very sweet. What I think is really cool is that the mom, the younger sister and V are all cloggers. And apparently, pretty good at it -- V just tried out for the competitive team, and she made it! If you are not familiar with this part of the country, you might not know about clogging. It's like....Riverdance. Kinda. But more country-music oriented (IMHO). And there's outfits. Colorful, sequined, knee-length dresses with crinolines that they wear for their recitals and competitions. This is right up my alley -- bring on the girly-girl stuff!! Let me see if I can find a video so you can see clogging in action. It's pretty cool! Take a look at an example:


Other than clogging, V is into Hannah Montana and The Jonas Brothers. So I am rapidly becoming acquainted with this whole pre-teen phenomenon. Apparently, there's a lot of albums and 3-D concerts on the Disney Channel. Oh, and Nick is the hottest Jonas Brother. That's what I've learned so far.

V and I hung out last night. We took Sammy on a walk in her neighborhood and she told me all about camp. She just went to camp for the first time, and she loved it. I was very relieved to hear this, because I. HATED. CAMP. I thought it was the most horrible idea ever, and begged my mother to never ever take me there again. The Czarina, always the penny-pincher, was happy to oblige this request. So aside from one horrible week the summer after 5th grade, I was spared this experience.

Why did I hate camp so much? The main reason was that it seemed everyone brought their best friend with them to camp. I apparently missed this memo and arrived solo at Camp Merri-Mac, which is located near Asheville, NC and is probably a wonderful camp, if you are not 11 year old VB. But I was a naive 11 year old, so when I was being dropped off at camp, I was a ball of excitement, ready to pack my days full of all the fun activities you find at camp.

I remember that all the cabins were named after celestial bodies: moons, stars, planets, etc. I remember getting excited about the fact that my cabin was called "The Milky Way", because that is and always has been my favorite candy bar. "This is a good sign," I thought. So I got to my cabin, greeted by my super nice counselor, Jodie. Jodie, I would find out later, was from Michigan, which at the time seemed as exotic as India to me. (I didn't get out a lot.) The first thing Jodie did was give me a "fun size" Milky Way candy bar. So far, camp ROCKED. I remember thinking, "Ok, Mom, you can go away now!" (Actually, I think this a lot...but anyway.)

After talking with my mom for a minute, Jodie took me inside the cabin and announced my arrival and introduced me to the other girls in my cabin. They all said "Hi" and then went right back to what they were doing. The bliss of summer camp all came to a screeching halt when I realized that all the other girls in my cabin were already paired up, because they had gotten that "bring your best friend or camp will suck donkey balls" memo. And they had no interest in me whatsoever. They were gathered in pairs, talking excitedly as they unpacked. I was being ignored. Not that I am an attention-seeking person, but I was old enough to realize they were intentionally sending me an unfriendly vibe.

Since I was new to the whole camp idea, I had a lot of questions for the other campers. Where do I put my toiletries? What time do we get up in the morning? My questions were met with one word answers. I got the impression that they all just wanted me to leave them alone. And since I was extra-super shy and possessed the self-esteem of a homeless crackhead prostitute at that stage in life, I didn't do anything about it. So I spent the week alone, silent and shunned.

I definitely got a very snooty vibe from the other girls. I remember one of them looking at me with disgust when I told her that I hadn't started shaving my legs yet. I still remember what town she was from: Jupiter, Florida. She had long blonde hair, subscribed to Seventeen and shopped at some mysterious place called "The Gap". She already looked like a teenager. I, on the other hand, still had baby fat and secretly played with Barbies and wore clothes my mother picked out at Stein-Mart. She watched 90210. I watched Disney movies. Forming a picture in your head yet? Yeah, it was kind of sad, really. This Florida Girl was sort of the ring-leader and enabled the snootiness to percolate in the cabin for the entire week. I can still see her face when I close my eyes. Brown eyes, bangs, a turned up nose.

My counselor, Jodie, was extremely nice and I believe, totally clueless about how Florida Girl treated me. I still like the name Jodie because of her. Jodie = fun size Milky Way bars. It's a good association to have.

Anyway, there was only one other girl in the cabin who shared my fate. Her bed was directly under mine. We shared a bunk because we were the only two girls who hadn't arrived with best friends from home. I can't remember her name, either. But I remember she had frizzy brown hair and big red Sally Jessy Raphael glasses. She liked animals and she talked too much. So she was an even bigger dork than I was. She was easy pickings for the snooty group in our cabin. By default, she and I hung out together for the week, despite the fact that I didn't really enjoy her company. But I do remember sticking up for her when someone said something mean about her.

Ah, pre-teen girls.............they are possibly the most evil and cruel group of humans on Earth.

Where was I? Oh yes. The rest of camp was not very memorable. I remember lanyards and archery and swimming and Shepherd's Pie. But mostly, I remember feeling rejected, extremely lonely and homesick. It was the first time I had ever been away from home longer than a night. It was the first time in my life I had no one to talk to or "play" with. (Remember, I am from a big family, so being alone is a foreign concept to me, and very scary, actually.) I remember crying quietly into my pillow, so the mean girls wouldn't hear me and make fun of me. It was horrible!

By mid-week, I was counting down the days until my mother would arrive to pick me up. Finally, she came! I have never loaded my stuff into any vehicle so quickly in my entire life. Then, she and I did the COOLEST thing that almost erased my traumatic week at camp: we stayed in a bed & breakfast in Asheville and went to Biltmore the next day before we drove home to Virginia. I don't think my mom knows how much better this made the whole experience for me. If it hadn't been for that portion of my time in the Asheville, NC area, I would vow never to near that horrible part of the country again.

To this day, I have a tendency to go out of my way to make new people feel welcome, or at least not lonely and shunned. And I also have a tendency to hang out with people who are alone, even if I don't enjoy their company. Weird how things that happen to you in childhood stick with you.

Did you go to camp? Did you like it?

Father Knows Best?

My only non-Czarina day off for the month of June was Father's Day. Which meant that I had to go with CN to spend it with his family. Which was fine. I guess. I usually spend Father's Day trying to forget that it's Father's Day. Every year, I feel pangs of grief, because I miss my dad so much. And Father's Day is always near what would have been his birthday, too. So June is kind of hard for me. But I wanted to hang out with CN, since it was my day off.

I like his family, and his dad is sick, so you know, it wasn't the end of the world. Even though I didn't have to go, it's almost a familial obligation at this point. His parents love me and he and I have been dating too long for me to skip out on family gatherings. But it was my ONLY day off. *sigh* So I sucked it up and went to church with them and then back to their house for some of his mother's yummy food. (Best macaroni & cheese EVER)

I was afraid I would get antsy to get home, but I ended up having a really good time. CN and his sisters told me stories about their childhood, and they were all hilarious. CN's whole family is extremely funny. My favorite story was about a cat that CN had when he was very young. One day, the cat disappeared. When CN asked his dad where his cat went, his father told him that the cat had to go. You see, it worked for a logging company, and it had to go drive the logging truck.

Maybe you had to be there, but this mental image left me crying laughing. I was picturing this little cat, driving a big rig, paws outstretched to steer the huge wheel. It reached up to grab its CB radio, only to meow into the speaker. After I stopped laughing, CN pointed out that this mental image is eerily similar to an old SNL skit, which I had forgotten all about -- Toonces, the Driving Cat.



Right before we left to go back to Columbia, I was in the living room, alone with CN's dad. He was showing me old photographs of his ancestors and telling me stories about them. The photographs were in double frames -- the ones where you have one person on the left and one person on the right. Each double frame showed a husband/wife duo, and these frames were lined up along a desk, in chronological order. Based on the clothing worn in the photographs, I would say that some of these photos went all the way back to pre-Civil War times. (Which I think is SO COOL, because I'm such a history buff.)

He tells me a story about each person -- the Civil War veteran, the adopted daughter, the preacher, etc. One great-great grandfather drowned in a logging accident (I guess logging was the theme of the day), and since the Edisto River was full of logs when he fell in, and it was in the middle of the winter, they couldn't retrieve his body for THREE weeks. Ugh. Gross.

So we are working our way through the generations, and I'm asking him questions, and it's all very interesting. We started to get to more modern times, and we got to CN's parents. We talked about those photos, and finally, we are on the last double frame. It's a photo of CN, from the day he graduated high school. He told me to pick it up.

"You know who that is, of course," CN's dad said.

"Yeah. It's CN," I replied.

"And you see what's next to his photo?" he continued.

"There's nothing there. There is no photo," I said.

"I know. You'd better talk to that boy about that!" he exclaimed.

WOW. I didn't know what to say, other than, "Um, I think that needs to be his idea. I can't talk to him about that."

CN's dad kept repeating that I need to talk to CN about it. I was starting to get a little self-conscious, when CN came back in the room.

"What are you two talking about? Talk to me about what?" CN asked.

"NOTHING!" I said loudly, putting the picture frame back on the desk.

Smooth, VB. Real smooth.

"You ready to go, honey?" I asked.

It may have been my imagination, but I think CN's dad winked at me.

Thirteen Signs I Am No Longer Cool

1. I really enjoy books on CD. Especially on road trips.

2. I have stopped buying stilettos. Now, I find myself gravitating towards flats.

3. I no longer like any music on any radio station. Except this one station that plays mostly 90s alternative.

4. Although I am exposed to what I would say is a slightly-higher-than-average amount of celebrity gossip, I'm starting to not know who the young people are anymore. I leaf through People magazine thinking, "Who the hell is that?"

5. Exposing a sliver of belly while wearing a form-fitting top is no longer an age-appropriate or flattering wardrobe choice for me. Now, it's empire waists with hip-length hemlines. I also now loathe jeans which allow my undies to hang out for the world to see.

6. The last time I stayed out past midnight, in a bar, was........um.......

7. I quit smoking. Completely.

8. I don't understand why '80s clothes are back. Leggings look good on no one. The big plastic colored jewelry is ugly. I'm worried that giant lace bows in our hair is next. Besides, why would I want to dress like Madonna did when I was in kindergarten??

9. I find myself turning the volume down, rather than up.

10. Frat boys are totally offensive to me now. (WOW has that changed!!)

11. Going out to dinner IS my "night on the town".

12. I am not renewing my subscription to Cosmopolitan, because every time I open it, I think, "Oh. I did that in college. Is there anything in here that is applicable to my life now?" Frustrated, I put it down and pick up Better Homes & Gardens. Aaahhh! Recipes! Redecorating! Time management tips! This is bliss!!!

13. I drive a Pontiac Vibe. And I like it.

Smurf Goes to Prom

In case you are wondering where I've been lately, I can give you a quick explanation:

I have had a terrible cold, which is still lingering. *cough* *sniff*
I have been in interviews for the PT Clinique job (I start tomorrow).
We had inventory at work. Thousands of books needed to be scanned. :\
I have been doing a bunch of regular, un-blog-worthy things (Sadly, my life is not always as titillating as I wish!).

So in short, you haven't been missing anything.

However, my little sister, Smurf, is having a very eventful spring! Not only did she get her driver's license (if you live in Virginia, watch out, because the girl cannot drive AT ALL!!!) but she went to prom with a senior -- which really impressed me, since I was so socially awkward in high school, I was grateful to be invited at all, by anyone. She is only a sophomore, which proves that my little sister is WAY cooler than I ever was at her age. Apparently, the senior has a crush on her, but she only likes him "as a friend". Which is probably a good thing, because the last time she filled me in on her love life, she had 3 guys (!!!) calling her.

I don't think I've ever had three guys calling me in my LIFE.

So I am relieved that high school isn't nearly as painful for her as it was for me. And I'm pretty proud, not only of her social abilities, but also her excellent grades (AP classes!) and her athletic talents (she currently plays softball, basketball AND volleyball -- WOW). She even plays the flute in her school's marching band. I don't know when she sleeps!

Thanks for letting me brag. Now, here's some prom pics of my little sister Smurf.

The obligatory hair-do, complete with 18 gallons of hairspray, I'm sure. And I would like to add that she was lucky enough to inherit The Czarina's extremely thick and shiny hair, whereas I got WLF's thin and fine hair. And did I mention that this girl NEVER gets zits?? Yeah. And can you tell how long her legs are? She is 5' 9". I am 5' 5". She's got legs for days. It's just not fair!!!

Is it just me, or is that corsage gigantic?? And I think her prom date is the same height she is!

I love her dress. And check out her adorable dimples!!

Ok, maybe she should pull her dress up a little bit....(oops, that's the overprotective Big Sis coming out!)

Having fun at prom with her date!


She said the after-prom stuff was held in the gym at her school, which is where this pic was taken. Apparently, it was super fun, because she didn't come home until 4am!!! The girl on the right is her best friend. I don't know who the girl on the left is. With a social butterfly for a little sis, sometimes it's hard to keep up!

Just to illustrate how vastly different my prom experiences were, let's do a quick reflection of VB's proms:

Junior year (1996): Considering my senior boyfriend dumped me right before everyone started finding dates (Gee, thanks, Scott. Great timing.), I was kind of S.O. L. and so had to pray to the prom gods to be asked at all. I ended up being asked by some guy in my math class. Until he asked me, I literally did not know he existed. (Isn't that terrible?? I don't even remember his name. Chris, maybe?? In my defense, my high school was HUGE and I was extremely shy. So it's not like I was too cool to know who anyone was. I was just clueless.) We went with his friends to dinner. I didn't know them, either. I don't remember having too good of a time, although I was glad he didn't try to kiss me, because that would have been awkward at best. I do remember liking my dress (it was short and bubblegum pink) and my hair -- The Czarina was a hairdresser in a past life, I swear. The woman has got some wicked hot roller skillz. Anyway, I had this whole 1960s girl group vibe going on. Very Dreamgirl-ish.

Senior year (1997): Again, there was no convenient boyfriend to be my automatic prom date (see a pattern??). So I was stuck crossing my fingers and again praying to the prom gods again. My best friend was in the same boat I was in. So was our guy pal, Josh. So the three of us went together! We ended up having a blast. My girlfriend wore a champagne satin dress; I wore a long, fitted, black dress trimmed with rhinestones. He got us matching red rose corsages. We got him two boutonnieres -- one for each lapel. And arm-in-arm-in-arm, we went to prom! Josh took turns dancing with us, and we ended up having so much fun. Josh told me later that he felt like a pimp all night, walking around with TWO prom dates. I can't remember where we ate or what we did that was so fun, but I do remember having a really good time and laughing a lot.

Now, Josh is engaged. And my girlfriend just got married last fall. I am now praying to the marriage gods. LOL some things never change....

Anyway, what was your prom like? Did you have fun? What do you remember? If you are a female reader, I want you to describe your dress to me!

Bahamas Pics

Hello, dear readers. You have all been waiting patiently for my vacation photos. *crickets chirp* I'm sorry it has taken me this long to get them up, but I have good excuses!!! Look:

Sammy didn't stop barfing until Sunday. I had no paper towels, clean rags or carpet cleaner left by the time it was over. Ugh.

I had a migraine all day Sunday. And my trainer KILLED my calves at the gym on Friday night. My calves STILL hurt today. But it's much better than the last three days, where my calves have been so tight that I have had to hobble around like some kind of geriatric Barbie doll. People were staring at me, actually, I was walking so awkwardly.

CN has been having MAJOR gastro-intestinal issues since Saturday evening, and I have been worried sick about him. We are going to the doctor as soon as I post this, actually. We almost went to the emergency room last night, because he was in so much pain. He's not in too much pain right now, but let's just say that something just isn't right with him, and I'm getting really concerned. I don't want to go into the gory details, but there's a laundry list of issues he's having right now. Remind me to tell you about Dr. Quack. (That might be tomorrow's post.)

Alright, on to the pics. Maybe some of you still care to see them?? I dunno.

Can you see the "fever" of stingrays in the water? Yes, that is the correct term for a group of stingrays. I looked it up. Of course. They were kind of creepy, the way they "flew" underwater.
This is the view from the ferry we took to the island with the stingrays. This is some big resort in Nassau.
This is some government building in Nassau. It's really old, and I love that it's pink -- so Caribbean, no? It's hard to see, but the seal of The Bahamas, there on the portico, has a blue marlin and a pink flamingo on it. I thought that was so cool. Very exotic.
This is a shot of the beach area where we swam after we finished swimming with stingrays. Isn't the water beautiful?? Even with the rain clouds overhead, it's still gorgeous.
This shot is just to the left of the last photo. The yellow hut is the first aid stand, I think.
This was the view from deck when we pulled into Freeport the day before. (Yeah, these are out of order. Sorry!) That wall you see jutting out into the water is where the boat parallel parked! Can you imagine parallel parking a cruise ship??
CN's feet are pale. Mine have long toes. Freaky feet!! This was on the ferry as we went to go swim with stingrays.
This is what the deeper water looked like in the Caribbean. So pretty.
I got a good close-up shot of a stingray!

I know these are not the best photos ever. I'm just not artsy like that. And most of my pics (obviously) include me or CN. Since I am trying to cling to what little shred of anonymity I have on here, I am not sharing them. Besides, I don't want to put up pics of CN without his permission. So if you are wondering what I look like, just imagine....I look like Jessica Simpson. Or Scarlett Johanssen. Yeah. I'm the spitting image.

Ok, I'm off to take CN to the doctor. Yes, he needs a chaperone, trust me. *groan* More on that tomorrow.

Cruise News, Part 3

As much as I have complained about the cruise, it was not all bad.

Friday, we were in port at Freeport. We decided not to go on any excursions that day, in order to save money. Besides, we were only there for about 7 hours, and none of the excursions sounded like they were can't-miss. Freeport is, according to all the travel websites and books I consulted, not anything worth seeing.

CN and I did look at the little tshirt shops that were literally right off the gangplank. I finally got to listen to someone speak in the local Bahamian accent. It sounds very similar to a Jamaican accent, but not as thick. After about an hour, we had seen everything there was to see, so we got back on the boat.

That night, we had our formal dinner. We went to the cocktail party beforehand, where we had yummy appetizers and drinks--all free. CN and I did a little slow dancing, which was nice (aw). For dinner, most of our group opted for the surf n turf combo: filet mignon and lobster tail. Aside from the lobster tail being rubbery and overcooked, it was good food.

Everyone changed into more comfortable clothes immediately after eating dinner, which doesn't really justify getting all dressed up to begin with. (Note to self: VB, you enjoy vacations which do not require formal wear.) Everything was going pretty well, and CN and I even managed to stay up with the rest of the group for about an hour. But by then, we were pooped, so we went to bed.

At some point that night, we were jarred awake by extremely loud banging on our door. At first, I imagined we were in the midst of some kind of Titanic-like sinking, or there was a big fire on board. CN, who was closer to the door, jumped up to see who was banging at the door.

No one was there. No one was even in the hallway.

Waking up in a panicked state is probably my least favorite thing in the whole world. So I was pretty pissed. "Stupid kids..." I mumbled, as I rolled back over to go back to sleep.

That's when the phone rang.

CN answered it.

"Hello?" asked CN.

*BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRP!!!* said Larva.

*click!* went the phone. Larva hung up on CN.

"It's Larva," explained CN. "I know him. He's not going to stop."

I groaned.

That's when the banging started again. As soon as CN would get up to tell Larva to stop, Larva would run down the hall, giggling, and finally ducking into his room in the nic of time. CN would come back to bed, and as soon as we had gotten comfortable and closed our eyes, the phone would ring again. Ignoring the phone did not work. It just kept ringing. Taking it off the hook caused it to make a very loud beeping sound. So we were forced to deal with the incessant ringing.

This went on for at least a half an hour. Banging. Ringing. Burping. Giggling. Repeat.

After round 3 of this, I had had enough. I stood up and informed CN that although Larva is his friend, I officially hate him and never wish to ever hang out with him again. And that this bullshit had to stop. Now.

CN was way ahead of me. He was even more pissed off than I was. "That's it. I'm punching him in the face. I'm going down to his room and when he opens the door, I'm clocking him," he announced.

CN went down to Larva's room. I can't remember how long he was there, since I was groggy at best. But I remember that CN came back frustrated that Larva wouldn't even answer the door. Neither would his wife, Sandra. (We found out later this was because she had PTFO.)

We tried to go back to sleep, but ended up tossing and turning for about an hour, since we were so wound up. We didn't sleep very well that night.

In the morning, we tried to get in better moods, despite Larva's lack of an apology. *grrrr* We had breakfast and then got ready for our port-of-call in Nassau. We all decided to spend $65 (each) on a 4 hour excursion and go together as a group. At 9am, we got onto a ferry for a 30 minute ride off the coast. By this point, the water was breathtaking. It looked like this, but better. I don't really know how to describe it, other than to say that all those photos you see of the Caribbean do not do the real thing any justice. The weather was perfect, and there was a nice breeze. Ahhh. So far, so good.

The ferry took us to a small island, where there was a beach, a bar, a souvenir shop and a snack shack. We had our photos taken, and then put our stuff down on some lawn chairs. Then, we went to a little roped-off area where we grabbed snorkeling equipment.

It was time to go swimming with sting rays.

Oh yes. The same animal that killed the Crocodile Hunter. Only these were de-barbed for our safety. Whew. On a side note, these animals are really creepy, so the barbs are really superfluous, IMHO.

I put on my snorkeling equipment and began swimming around the sting ray area. The creepy sting rays move like underwater birds. They tend to herd together and swim in schools. If you have ever seen a horseshoe crab, the sting ray looks like a flattened version of it! [Note: These two animals are not really related. Sting rays are related to sharks and horseshoe crabs are related to spiders and ticks. Sorry for the geek moment, folks.]

I am giddy with excitement about this whole experience. Not only were there sting rays of various sizes and colors, there were also white, blue and yellow fish. I am pretty sure some of them were Angelfish. I have gone snorkeling before, and I absolutely adore it. It's like being in a giant aquarium. So I was really enjoying this.

Until I realized........that I had no idea where my boyfriend was or if he was ok.

The same boyfriend who cannot swim.

Uh-oh.

I pulled my head up to look for him. I expected him to be in ankle-deep water, just watching everyone else, or practically drowning somewhere. He wasn't. He was only a few feet behind me, snorkeling!!! I was totally shocked. It turns out that he can sorta-kinda swim and doesn't start freaking out until the water is as deep as his chin. "Plus, the flotation device is helping," he said. (The flotation device was part of our snorkeling equipment.)

I was so proud of him.

Even if he jumped and squealed like a little girl any time one of the sting rays came close to him.

After letting us swim around for a while, the sting ray guides (keepers? handlers?) told us to line up into two lines and face each other. It was time to feed the sting rays. Cool! The sting rays must have known what the two lines meant, because they began to swim very quickly and swarm around us, rather than ignore us as they had moments before.

The guides (keepers? handlers??) then went around and handed each of us a handful of chopped up, raw squid. Um, thanks. Then they told us how to feed the sting rays by holding the squid under the water, just above the sand. The sting rays would swim over your hand and hoover up the squid parts. "They use suction to capture their food," the guide explained. Ew. Kind of like an underwater vacuum cleaner.

Thanks to my overactive imagination, the only image that came to mind was my arm, trapped inside a very angry sting ray, which was doing its best to suck the flesh off my bones as I screamed bloody murder and writhed in agony in the shallow area of this wading pool full of horrified cruise vacationers.

So when a sting ray came near me, I held the squid part under the water for a second, only to let go too soon and watch as the snack, intended for the sting ray, was snatched up by a fish. Oops. Sorry, Mr. Sting Ray. Next time, don't be so creepy, ok?

Next, I was shocked to see that some people were actually touching the sting rays. Didn't they realize they were risking their lives?? That their appendages could be shredded in an instant, much like a garbage disposal would, subjected to the unpredictable will of these shark cousins with extremely powerful suckage mechanisms in their mouths??? Were they insane???!! These are the pool drains of the animal kingdom! Keep your fingers and hair away, people!!!

"Cool! How does it feel??" I asked the guy across from me.

"Slimy!" he replied, excitedly.

"Oh, wow. I wanna touch one!" I said, suddenly forgetting my imagination's vivid and gory warnings.

The guy was right. They are slimy. Firm, but slimy. But as cool as it was, I didn't feel the need to touch them again. Once was plenty.

I looked down the line to see what CN was doing. He looked nervous and tense, and still jumped and yelped any time one of the sting rays came near. I couldn't help but laugh.

I found out later that a great deal of the yelping and jumping had to do with the fact that Larva had put squid parts in CN's pocket, so the sting rays were swarming around CN like bees.

Tee hee. As obnoxious as Larva is, I had to give him credit on that one.

After the sting rays, we had lunch and then hung out in the beach area for a little while. CN and I were enjoying the water, when we noticed a wild, fully barbed sting ray in the water. This was not one of the captive, tame ones we had just fed. It was huge, and it was headed our way.

This time, my overactive imagination threw potential newspaper headlines at me: "Couple, 29, Killed by Wild Sting Ray: 'It was just horrible to watch' witnesses say" and "Wildlife Community Warns of Vacation Danger: Man Never Had a Chance, Experts Say". So I grabbed CN's hand and practically dragged him out of the water lickety split.

"Gee, thanks, Mom," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up! I just saved your life! You can't swim!" I said.

He doesn't know that I was actually more scared of it than he was!!

Then it was time to go, so we all got back on the ferry and were, well, ferried back to our cruise ship. CN and I spent the rest of the day shopping in Nassau.

It was so nice to get off the boat, even if everything was just tshirt/souvenir shops. There was the occasional luxury goods store (Gucci, Bulgari, Fendi, Breitling), but the prices were still outrageous, even duty-free.

Like so many foreign cities around the world, escaping American culture was difficult: Ford cars on the streets, KFC was open for lunch and the U.S. Dollar was the currency. And everything was made in China. ;)

After wandering around for a while, I was very excited to see the big tent where they sell the fake designer handbags. I freaking love these things. They never look like the real thing, but they are still great-looking bags. This time, I got a big, yellow patent-leather Prada. (I will share a pic soon, promise!) I also got a small, black Coach and a large, black Coach tote. I got all three for $100. Yippee!!!!

I tell you what, if you ever go to The Bahamas, make sure you can make up your mind quickly. Everyone there is extremely pushy. They certainly do not take "no" for an answer! CN ended up buying a cigar from a kid, only to get him to shut up and go away. And they expect you to buy anything you look at longer than 5 seconds. I inspected one handbag for a good minute, only to tell the lady that I was not interested. She was really pissed and told me that I wasted her time!! "Well, you need to sell cuter fake handbags," I thought. Hmph!

By about 4pm, CN and I were pooped, so we went back to the boat and took another nice, long nap. It was the perfect end to a great day.

Cruise News, Part 2

This is Day #2 of the cruise.

Our gang spent most of their time hanging out by the pool. Although I don't like getting sunburned and I tend to get bored sitting by a pool all day, I decided to join in anyway. I was sitting on my chair, reading a magazine, as everyone else in our group was in the pool, drinking. They had been drinking since about 9am, so by this point, the group is quickly getting rowdy. They invited me to go down the pool's water slide with them. I had to admit, it looked like a lot of fun. So everyone put down their drinks and we all got in line. The slide was SO FUN!! After going down it, I hung out in the pool for a bit with everyone. It was all going fine and dandy, until CN asked Larva: "Hey, Larva. We've been drinking all morning, and we have all had to get out of the pool to go pee except you. Don't you have to pee??"

It turns out that Larva, a 35 year old father of 4, had been peeing in the pool.

And when I slid down the slide, I had gotten water in my mouth.

So that was the end of the pool for me, folks. At this point, I was starting to dislike Larva, but since he's CN's old college buddy, I decided not to say anything at that time. I just excused myself and took a shower. And a nap.

I hadn't really thought about it beforehand, but being on a cruise ship means that you are stuck with about 1,500 strangers, and you cannot escape them. Everywhere I went, it was impossible to be alone. I know this doesn't sound like a big deal, even if you are a people person like me, but trust me -- it is. Forget having romantic walks on the deck after dinner -- you will be joined by 50 total strangers, most of whom are loud and drunk. Forget having a nice, quiet breakfast with your sweetie -- you will have to eat with a table full of strangers, and you will feel obligated to make small talk. You will have the same small talk conversation with strangers every morning. This gets old quickly. Even finding a nice chair where you can read your book quietly is impossible. I read somewhere once that having at least one hour per day where you are totally alone helps relieve stress. You know what? It's true. Each day, I felt my stress level rising.

By the second day, I was starting to get cranky. Between Larva's antics, the disappointing food, the icky shower and being surrounded by strangers everywhere I went, I was getting a little irritable. Luckily, I kept it in check. My daily mid-afternoon nap helped. That bed made everything better. And thank goodness for the Discovery Channel -- I watched a lot of cool shows. But dammit, I could have done that at home for free, you know?

I would like to say that at least I wasn't bored, but I was -- hence the Discovery Channel binge. It was probably because I don't drink. All the drunk people seemed to be having a blast, especially if they were in the college-age range. There was always a spontaneous party at the pool, complete with dancing and drunken antics. I had fun doing that stuff when I was younger, but now, I'd rather read a book or go see a museum. (I am a frumpy, old dork. Trust me, I know.) It didn't help that everything was scheduled all the time. It made vacation feel like work. When I'm on vacation, I don't want to worry about being late for anything. I want to make my own schedule. Not be subjected to the whims of some cruise director.

There was always something going on, I will say that. A lot of people hung out in the casino. But CN and I don't gamble, so the casino didn't hold our interest. The bingo and trivia contests were at bad times for us (ie, nap time), or just didn't sound worthwhile. They had an art auction, but I didn't have the money to do that -- plus, the art was hideous. I really don't like musicals, so the night shows didn't sound fun to me. We kept hearing that the stand-up comedian wasn't very good, so we decided to skip that. I am not really the sort of person who wants to spend time learning how to make towel animals or line dance. All the activities felt like they were just something to do to kill time, not something I would normally want to do.

What I really wanted to do was go to some historic district, eat local food, go to a museum, take an old homes tour, check out local art and architecture, explore a wildlife preserve, or even just shop.....but none of these things can be done when you are on a cruise ship. I am a Culture Vulture, and I was stuck in a Cultural Wasteland. I know that most people have fun doing the stuff they had planned for us on the boat, but I am just not normal. I am a big nerd. I enjoy learning stuff in my spare time. That's part of the reason I am a librarian! Because I'm a total dork! I read random articles on Wikipedia when I'm bored! *sigh of frustration*

This is why I spent the vast majority of my time eating and sleeping. With a little reading and tv watching thrown in. And I paid about $400 to do this. Yeah. So I'm pretty mad that I wasted all that money. I wish I could just have fun like normal people do. But bars, cigarettes and drunk people annoy me, as do large crowds of total strangers with misbehaving children (seriously, I know you are on vacation, Mom and Dad, but does this mean your children literally get to do everything they want???? Ugh! Supervise your kids or leave them at home!).

I guess the highlight of each day was dinner. That was the meal where the food tended to be the best. Dinner was fun, because we got to eat with our group and no one else. Roger and Grace are really nice and fun people, so they made dinner really great. But we often didn't see them at all except at dinner time. As the days wore on, CN and I tried to avoid Larva more and more, since he was bugging us so much.

When you eat a big dinner at 8:30pm, it's hard to stay awake unless you proceed to go get drunk right afterwards. And since CN had been drinking all day, up until dinner, he was ready to pass out every night after dinner -- he just can't drink for 14 hours, like Larva can. The bed was the only fun thing I had found on board, so CN didn't have to twist my arm to talk me into hitting the sack at 10pm most nights. Plus, this was the only time he and I could be alone.

I know I am being really negative, but it's not all bust. There were some really fun times. I will talk about those tomorrow.

Another Fun Friday

Ok, I have been saving up for this one. (I've been having a hard time finding FF stuff lately...)

How awesome is this blog??? Gotta love analytical people with a sense of humor. And I love that you can buy the tshirts. All the Boolean logic and Venn diagrams appeal to the librarian in me. And unless you're a librarian, you might be lost right now. Venn diagrams are something that librarians geek out on. I can totally explain them to you. No? Fine, suit yourself.

And for the record, I understand everything in the Boolean entry linked just now. Everything. It's crystal clear to me. As long as you take all the numbers out.

Do you remember typewriters? Cameras with flash bulbs that would burn out? How about floppy disks that were actually floppy? Or car phones? Have you ever wondered when things we use now will be only a distant memory? (I personally think compact discs are soon to be on the chopping block.) The Extinction Timeline predicts when things will become obsolete in our society. Tip: To get a better view of the graph image, you need to click on it. (My boss sent it to me because it predicts that libraries will be obsolete in the next 20 years. WTF?! As if!)

CN had a job interview on Wednesday. I sent him this Tony Little/Geico video, because it cracks me up, and I'm always yelling, "You can dooooowit!!!!!" So all week, I have been telling him the he can "doooowit!"



I found this website, Married to the Sea, through Toothpaste for Dinner. Both are great websites full of wacky comics. Some of them leave me scratching my head, but some of them leave me in stitches. Enjoy!

Have a great weekend, everyone! Happy Easter!