Miami Vices

Well, it is safe to say that there were no fiery plane crashes last week and I am back here to give a little "post belated- honeymoon" update.

The trip was amazing. Aruba was more beautiful than I had anticipated...well the beaches were at least! Like most islands, there was poverty and poor living conditions... but the turquoise waters and cool breezes were a fantasy.

Our take off from Logan Airport may have been my worst "take off" to date. Panic definitely sets in whenever I fly, however this time I felt worse than usual. Once we hit the runway and I heard the engines fully kick in, I think I stopped breathing. I squeezed my hands together so tightly my fingers were purple...and yes, I hate to admit it, there were tears. How embarrassing.

Once on the ground in Aruba, things were much better. :) Our weekly activities included drinking Miami Vices (strawberry daiquiris and pina coladas mixed, YUM), reading, napping, and swimming... and drinking some more (hey, it was all inclusive!). Our goal was to relax and that was definitely accomplished. There was no real jet setting around Aruba or exploring the island, which was perfect for us. I achieved the darkest tan of my life as well, which is oh-so-exciting. If anyone is interested in pictures, let me know ;) Although I think the only people who read this have already received them... hmmm.

On Sunday when we got home from our trip, my father informed me that my grandmother was in the hospital and not doing well. That wasn't exactly the news I was expecting to come home to. Unfortunately, things aren't looking to good for her right now. We are just hoping for the best... I have a lot more to say on this subject but am going to wait until I can get all my thoughts together.

So, that is about all from here. It is really rough to leave the beautiful 85 degree weather and land up here where it has been cold and rainy. Each morning at 10 am I expect someone to come into my classroom with a mimosa. If only I could be that lucky.

Why yes, I'd love a daquiri for breakfast...

I'm not sure if you can make me out in this picture... but if you look really closely you'll be able to see me in my designated spot at the swim up bar... at least, that is where I anticipate spending most of my awake hours this upcoming week... of course alternating the bar seat for the "in pool" lounge chairs.

Tim and I leave for our trip in about 8 hours... Yep, 8. That puts us at 3:30 am. Lovely. Take off is at 5:45... But, I count our trip starting at 3:30... Let the games begin!!!

These international flights are confusing with their "rules". I packed up my little zip lock bag with all of my "items"... I wonder how they come upon these regulations. I understand a lot of them, and trust me, I am not the best flyer and happen to be one of the most anxious (paranoid) people you will meet, so I am all for them... but, some I just don't get. Like the fact things that are liquids or aerosols (among others) must be packed in a clear plastic bag... quart size. It's not that big. My sunscreen, medication, and inhalers were enough to squeeze in there. Why the quart size, seriously. The half gallon or gallon would have been much more accommodating.

I am eager to see how much we packed that we won't need. Also, what we didn't pack that we will need. I tend to be a heavy packer, ok, that might be an understatement. I am a heavy packer. When I go away for a night or two, you would think I was leaving for a week or more. This was a challenge, I haven't been on vacation like this in years. I wonder how we'll do... My father will be happy to know that I packed 3 dresses... and a skirt. I'm so girly. I have to admit though, as I was folding my favorite sweatpants that came out of the wash today, I thought to myself how much I was going to miss wearing them for a week. That is pretty sad. I wish I didn't just admit that here.

So folks. I think that about wraps it up here. Oh boy, I just had one of my typical pre-flying thoughts... the "this could be my last blog... what if the plane crashes...this is the last thing people will read from me...how tragic". This should go on for the rest of the night until approximately 10:40 tomorrow when we land in Aruba. Then will promptly resume next Saturday and last until the wheels hit Logan and come to a complete stop. I mean, complete stop. I don't trust landing until we are up and walking. I've got my "calm" playlist ready for the flight, very similar to the "I'm not afraid of planes crashing mix" that I made a few years before a flight. haha. I think I need to make a "I'm not afraid of wearing bathing suits" mix as well! I am going to self medicate myself with drinks to get myself into one... I find myself trying to calculate the angle my lounge chair will be able to go to before I start to get unsightly "shadows"... and by shadows, I mean rolls which cast shadows... It is going to be hard to read and drink margaritas if I am completely flat... but I don't think I am going to be able to angle myself much better! I figure I can drape something over my midsection when inclined... Yes, I have spent a lot of time thinking about this... Sadly, I am now posting it as well.

I hope everyone that is on vacation this week enjoys it! And for those of you not on vacation, I am sorry. You too should have gone into education! You did this to yourselves! :) If there are no plane crashes and my liver is not pickled, then I am sure I will be back next week with a post vacation update. Watch out Aruba...

Believe you are a bride every day of your life...

Well, once again a family dinner has left me with years worth of material.

It was suggested to me tonight, on more than one occasion, that I may want to dress alittle bit more femininely because I looked so beautiful and womanly on my wedding day. In my mind, I immediately teleported back to the night of the winter ball when one of my friend's mothers saw me in a dress and gasped, "Oh my God, you are a girl!". that is something I have obviously not let go over. Back to the present day... apparently this feminine side is something I still struggle with! I watched my sister hold back tears of laughter as my father continued to suggest ways in which I could work on this task, including enlisting the help of the "wardrobe people" on the "set". Thanks father. I came home to a hysterically funny and sarcastic voicemail from my sister voicing her concerns with my style as well. Thank goodness for humor.

There was no question what my next blog topic would be.

Even though my father offered his suggestion of enlisting the help of the wardrobe people on the sets of movies... I decided I might need to look for another option. I figured there could be no other place than the world wide web to help me with my fashion endeavor. Lucky me, I seemed to stumble upon a website written specifically for me and my situation, seeing as my wedding day was one of the only days I have appeared feminine...

"While her husband was alive, she dressed beautifully for him every day. She believed you were a bride every day of your life, even if you were not married, so she dressed as though she was a very special person with a special purpose in life."

• I love Tim very much and that is why I wear my favorite sweatpants and sweatshirts every night. Last night I said to him, "You are the luckiest guy. I have on my baggiest fleece pants and my hottest hooded sweatshirt. If I could have had a wedding dress made of fleece, I would've worn one... To go with the Nike Shox I had on my feet...

"To those of you who are having a struggle changing over to more feminine dressing, just pretend you are a bride every day, whether you are married or not, or at least on your honeymoon, visiting a very special place...In winter, instead of wearing a hooded sweatshirt, wear a Spencer jacket or long-sleeved dresses . This is more streamlined and allows more freedom in your household motions."

• Ok, so does my "fancy sweatshirt" then count as feminine because it is not hooded and can be disguised as a regular shirt, though lined in fleece. A long sleeved dress for household motion, there is so much ridiculousness in this one blurb that I don't even know where to start. It makes me want to wear fleece even more... Although I can picture Gerard nodding in agreement with a lot of this...

"Do a little each day to increase your femininity. Find good teachers and mentors who will coach you in your quest to dress femininely. Look at catalogs, and circle the things you think are the most feminine. Write letters to those you feel could give you some help. The first step in real change is to have a strong desire. The next step is to change that desire into reality. Part of the Biblical way of life is to look for ways to do better. We do not have to continue to follow failure patterns. We have the opportunity to restore society to modesty and femininity, just by doing it ourselves. One person can influence many. "

• This paragraph has changed my life. I now see the errors of my ways. I never correlated my wearing of fleece with the problems in our society. Tomorrow I will do one thing for my femininity... Maybe I won't wear my sneakers out in public. Or maybe I will wear my long sleeved dress.

gold stars and snuggles

Well, I am back for all you faithful readers (note sarcasm) with an update on little Simey Frederick.

It has been a long coupld of days here. Simey has been doing alright, his hole, for lack of a better word (ucleration, I guess) is looking a bit better which is good. But, he definitely isn't feeling right. He has been vomiting daily which is concerning and upsetting. Although, over the week or so that he's been getting sick, I have gotten extremely successful at catching it in "the bucket". I know that's gross, but I feel a little bit of pride, motherly pride, in being so quick to react. It is heartbreaking though. To see Simon with his cone on and getting sick breaks my heart. Last week after he got sick he was just sitting down on the floor looking completely desperate. It kills me...and Tim as well. He has been moping around, just acting under the weather. While I love the cuddles, I hate that he isn't feeling well. This evening out of the blue he threw up. I was a split second too late, I got the remaining of his heave on his placemat. Then he was walking across the dining room with a funny little trot. Something was wrong, then I heard the noises. I grabbed him and held him over the sink. Just in time. I just wish he could feel better.

He went back to the doggie hospital yesterday. We dropped him off around 8:30, which was difficult because he was having an exceptionally cute day (then again, what day isn't!). We waited patiently for a call back and then gave in and I called only to be told to wait for the call. The surgeon called back and said we were moving ahead with another procedure to extract his sutures and replace them with "stainless steel" sutures that were "entirely inert". Oh, don't worry folks, she is only charging us for sutures and anesthesia... so its only $400. A drop in the bucket in comparison.

I had 2 close calls in the animal hospital. First of all upon arrival, one of the uber- friendly (and ultra dorky, oh that's mean) receptionist greeted Simon with an appropriate level of enthusiasm. After all, he is the cutest thing ever. But then she went into a full recap of Oprah's show from last Friday, the one i deliberately avoided (even avoided the commercials) on puppy mills because I knew the outcome would be dramatic and scarring for me. So, this girl starts rattling off information from the show, including how one of the dogs looked exactly like Simon but black. She also went on about the euthanasia and such. I was about one minute away from making a comment to her to stop talking. I tried to ignore her, but it was difficult. It was not something I wanted to be hearing as I dropped my dog off at the doggie hospital. Simon sneezes and I have panic attacks about putting him to sleep. Surgery and his health lately are overwhelming enough. I do not need the trauma of hearing about puppy mills. Side note: at the mall this weekend, I was trying to get by the pet store as quick as possible and the dogs were barking and I started to tear up. I know issues.

The second situation... We went to pick Simon up. Tim and I were both excited to get him back. As we made our way into the sitting area I saw a couple that was obviously distressed. The woman was crying and had her head on the man's shoulder. I noticed a small carrier on the floor. I wondered if it was a dog or cat... or anything at all because it was quiet. Tim and I sat in the chairs behind this couple and I could not keep my mind off of the poor woman. I could hear her sniffling. A moment later we heard the most heart wrenching yelping, cry from the carrier by the woman's feet. I looked over my shoulder and saw her put her fingers through the cage door while reassuring the small dog (who we later found out was named "Skiddy"). Hearing those sounds sent chills through my spine. The tears immediately rose to my eyes. I thought about the woman and how controlled she was. I had a feeling if i were in that situation I would be quite the spectacle! haha. The vet tech came out to talk to them about Skiddy. I couldn't hear what was wrong, but it didn't sound good. The tech said she would get a room ready for them to meet with the doctor. As we pulled out of the parking lot, with Simon, I was still upset about Skiddy. As Tim pointed out, if Skiddy's owners were that emotional and cared that much, then he obviously had a great life and lots of love. Its still too sad to think about.

While the vet tech was talking to Skiddy's parents, I was distracted by the spastic sound of claws on a tile floor. There was no question in my mind that Simon was on his way out. I heard the vet say, "Simon, slow down, it's ok buddy" and laughed to myself. Next thing I knew he came sprawling around the corner pretty much belly crawling with all 4 legs out to the sides and the cone smashing off the ground. I quickly went to greet him and then felt guilty because as Simon was jumping (against Dr. orders!) for kisses and giving Tim and I the world's best greeting, I realized we were in Skiddy's parents and only a few feet away from them. It was then that we were told some of the most utterly surprising news of our lives...well of Simon's life I suppose...

The vet tech said that Simon got the "Gold star of the day award" (if only they really had such a thing so I could make a little scrap book for him) for his behavior. Earlier when the surgeon called she had also complimented on his behavior to which I scarfed at. She said he was "great, unlike his neighbor who was banished to the back room because of barking." But not our Simey. He was a shining star yesterday. :) We are so proud of him. haha.

Keep your fingers crossed for him tomorrow. It will be his third surgery since September. Its a lot for such a little guy, as everyone keeps reminding us. I know he'll do fine, I just want him feeling better soon. The weather is going to be nice, hopefully, and I need my walking buddy back! We will report back tomorrow... with good news of course.

Sorry for the long, long ramble about Sime-a-doodle but, he deserves it. Plus, I know his Godmother, who is possibly his biggest fan, is an avid blog reader and I haven't given her a good update on his condition as of late. :)