The "w" on my phone keyboard is sticking. I guess it has been for about a eek now but I just discovered it. I have to say, it certainly makes my texts more interesting.
You have no idea ho many ords are spelled ith a " " until you try to type ithout one. And, I never really realized that ithout a " " both the ords ho and ho look like something pretty derogatory (at least in the phonetic orld of texting)or kind of holiday-ish depending on your perspective and quite poosibly your age .
Hopefully, the people I text can make the mental leap.
Have a great weekend!
Friday, November 5, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Maturity is having your own Port-a-Potty
Jonathan and I just returned from our annual Georgia/Florida weekend on Amelia Island with our friends.
Its always an amazing time and we spent much of the ride home talking about the weekends both past and present (or newly past).
As all the participants havematured become more successful in careers, the tailgate has become easier than ever. Every year, another layer that makes the set-up easier seems to get added.
First it was having satellite TV so we could watch Game Day.
Then, having the food catered.
Next came the purchase of parking passes ahead of time.
This year, we had the best addition yet.
This year the tailgate included the addition of a port-a-potty (thank you Cam and Jeff).
Our very own, no one else could use it, funk free port-o-potty! No hike across the lot, no stand in line and use a foul and disgusting port-a-potty shared by thousands. Our own toilet!!!
And, well, Florida may beat us on the field almost every year, but they can't hang with us in the parking lot!
Our tailgate
Notice the port-o-potty peeking out from behind the vehicle inthe photo below:
Thier tailgate:
Looking forward to next year!
Its always an amazing time and we spent much of the ride home talking about the weekends both past and present (or newly past).
As all the participants have
First it was having satellite TV so we could watch Game Day.
Then, having the food catered.
Next came the purchase of parking passes ahead of time.
This year, we had the best addition yet.
This year the tailgate included the addition of a port-a-potty (thank you Cam and Jeff).
Our very own, no one else could use it, funk free port-o-potty! No hike across the lot, no stand in line and use a foul and disgusting port-a-potty shared by thousands. Our own toilet!!!
And, well, Florida may beat us on the field almost every year, but they can't hang with us in the parking lot!
Our tailgate
Notice the port-o-potty peeking out from behind the vehicle inthe photo below:
Thier tailgate:
Looking forward to next year!
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
They must often change, who would be constant in happiness or wisdom. ~Confucius
When you first find out you are about to become a new parent, every one is so quick to say things like, "Your life is really going to change" or "Parenthood really changes everything." And, anyone with half the sense that God gave a goose can get what that might mean - at least on the surface.
It's the changes to your fiber, your being, the changes to your life philosophy that you don't anticipate changing but does. Or maybe it was just us.
On our way back from our Spain Tour 2010. Jonathan and I checked in at the airport and were asked if we wanted to spend another night in Malaga...
At a 5 star hotel...
With transportation between airport and hotel...
With all our meals paid for...
Seats on a flight back to the US the following day...
AND
A $2,000 credit for use on Delta.
I was already salivating at 5 star hotel and all expenses paid. Afterall, we had an extra day before we had to return to work and we had not had much time alone in Spain. What could be better? Oh, yeah, $2000 for more plane tickets.
I quicky devised that we could return to Europe next year and potentially have credit left over for another trip. What's not to accept. How many times over the last few years had I so desperately wanted to volunteer my seat but had to be at work the next day or had some equally important issue????? Yet, this was not the case this time. In fact, this was the perfect set of circumstances.
We could have another day in Southern Spain!!!!!!
Then they give us the itinerary which involved a very short 1.5 hour connection through Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. One of the worst airports to get through (although better than JFK, if for no other reason than because when you are being told you missed your flight and there is not another until tomorrow, it sounds A LOT better in French. And, I understand the French accent better than I understand the New York accent.)
In my head, I am doing an incredible amount of calculating in a very short time that went something like this: If flight is on time, we still have to get baggage and get through customs, recheck bags-get to gate-there-is-no-way-we-will-make-it-if-the-flight-is-a-half-second-too-late-or-the-gate-is-at-thewrongendoftheaeropuerto.
Which is when Jonathan steps in and says, "If we miss the connection we won't get to see butterbean until Monday and then we leave again on Thursday.
In my head (again), I let out a veeeeerrry long stream of profanity with perfect alliteration (it was really almost artful) and said, "I'm sorry, we have to pass."
And so, we got on the plane. It took me until we were somewhere over the Atlantic, after the first lunch and some bad boxed wine to stop thinking about it and wondering if we had just made a huge, huge mistake. Who was I to have given up such an opportunity?
The next morning, when I picked up butterbean AKA the Notorious MRA, squeezed his chubby little hands and saw him toddle more than a few steps on his own for the first time, I was pretty sure we made the right decision.
It's the changes to your fiber, your being, the changes to your life philosophy that you don't anticipate changing but does. Or maybe it was just us.
On our way back from our Spain Tour 2010. Jonathan and I checked in at the airport and were asked if we wanted to spend another night in Malaga...
At a 5 star hotel...
With transportation between airport and hotel...
With all our meals paid for...
Seats on a flight back to the US the following day...
AND
A $2,000 credit for use on Delta.
I was already salivating at 5 star hotel and all expenses paid. Afterall, we had an extra day before we had to return to work and we had not had much time alone in Spain. What could be better? Oh, yeah, $2000 for more plane tickets.
I quicky devised that we could return to Europe next year and potentially have credit left over for another trip. What's not to accept. How many times over the last few years had I so desperately wanted to volunteer my seat but had to be at work the next day or had some equally important issue????? Yet, this was not the case this time. In fact, this was the perfect set of circumstances.
We could have another day in Southern Spain!!!!!!
Then they give us the itinerary which involved a very short 1.5 hour connection through Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. One of the worst airports to get through (although better than JFK, if for no other reason than because when you are being told you missed your flight and there is not another until tomorrow, it sounds A LOT better in French. And, I understand the French accent better than I understand the New York accent.)
In my head, I am doing an incredible amount of calculating in a very short time that went something like this: If flight is on time, we still have to get baggage and get through customs, recheck bags-get to gate-there-is-no-way-we-will-make-it-if-the-flight-is-a-half-second-too-late-or-the-gate-is-at-thewrongendoftheaeropuerto.
Which is when Jonathan steps in and says, "If we miss the connection we won't get to see butterbean until Monday and then we leave again on Thursday.
In my head (again), I let out a veeeeerrry long stream of profanity with perfect alliteration (it was really almost artful) and said, "I'm sorry, we have to pass."
And so, we got on the plane. It took me until we were somewhere over the Atlantic, after the first lunch and some bad boxed wine to stop thinking about it and wondering if we had just made a huge, huge mistake. Who was I to have given up such an opportunity?
The next morning, when I picked up butterbean AKA the Notorious MRA, squeezed his chubby little hands and saw him toddle more than a few steps on his own for the first time, I was pretty sure we made the right decision.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
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