Threat Level Midnight

In case any of you are not Office fans, the title of this entry is a shoutout to Michael Scott's epic thriller spy movie. It pertains to me for reasons I'm about to outline, so I'll only keep you in suspense for a minute.

Last week, I had a hearing in Waco.  (I know, meh).  My morning started when I woke up around 4am and left the house at 4:45am to drive to St. Louis.  Considering the ridiculous prices of checking a bag on any airline not called Southwest, I loaded my carry-on sized suitcase to the brim with everything but my computer bag and headed for security. 

I get up to the line, show my ID and boarding pass (the first time a boarding pass of mine has read Nicole Evans!), and begin the assembly line process of unloading all my bags, belts, shoes, and organs into the plastic tubs to go through the scanner.  I get through and start to take my stuff back when I notice that the conveyor belt has stopped and a small crowd of TSA folk has gathered to look at something on the belt.  With my suitcase not in sight, I assume that I'm about to get busted for not taking out every small bottle of liquid and putting it in a ziplock bag.  A TSA guy comes over and asks if he can look through my bag, and I politely oblige.  It definitely wasn't my liquids they were concerned with.

Apparently I have not used this suitcase at all since we moved to Columbia because as he's searching through the pockets he unzips one of the outer front pockets and pulls out....

Oops...that's funny there isn't it.  Right?  No?



My immediate reaction was to exclaim "Oh my gosh how did that get there!"  He said "I don't know- this is your bag."  Awkward.  I mean, this drill bit was a good foot long.  I literally didn't even know I owned something like that.  We don't even have a drill that will fit that!  (At least I don't think...I rarely have reason to use industrial tools).  I felt like what I'd imagine teenage boys feel like when their parents find porn on the family computer.  My face flushed scarlet and I started apologizing profusely while proclaiming over and over that I wasn't a terrorist, which did nothing to disinterest the small crowd of people that had stopped to watch this unfold, and the other small crowd of people that were waiting for me to move the hell out of the way so they could go on.  I got a few "you're so stupid" looks from some seasoned travelers.  After spending what felt like days trying to apologize and explain my way out of this, the TSA guy cracked a small smile and said I was ok.  He would just take the offending object and send my bag back through.  I hope TSA enjoys their new industrial-strength drill bit.  I probably won't miss it since it was in that bag unnoticed for who knows how long.

I arrived safely in Dallas and picked up my sweet rental to drive to Waco.  I will say that, as one accustomed to renting cars the size of toys, I was impressed by my rental.  Every time I rent a car I have that moment of panic where I envision every possible fiasco that can happen because I didn't opt for the extra insurance policy.  This one was no different, but I put my faith in myself and I-35/Dallas drivers and headed off.  I will say that I-35 hasn't changed since I last drove it in my college days.  It's still and gridlocked, construction riddled death trap.  Anyhoo, I knocked out my hearing and picked up my favorite drink accessory ever- HEB jumbo straws, and headed back to Dallas (while fighting the urge to hop on Highway 6 South and head to the homeland).  While I was tooling along the highway headed north, I approached this hideously old and beat up looking Jalopy (Grapes of Wrath anyone?) pulling an even more hideous and beat up looking trailer with random paint buckets and boards rattling around inside.  I didn't like the looks of this situation, so I sped up and quickly passed him.  Good thing, because just as the trunk of my car cleared the front bumper of his truck, one of his trailer wheels, yes, the WHOLE WHEEL tire and all, came flying off, bounced across the left lane where I had just been, hit the concrete barrier in the median, and bounced back across the entire northbound highway.  The truck quickly pulled off into the grass and EVERYONE behind it had to stop to avoid the unpredictable and crazy bouncing wheel.  While watching this unfold in my rearview mirror I silently thanked my lucky stars and felt relieved that even though my faith in I-35 drivers was misplaced, my faith in my own driving abilities isn't.  So there.

Following my day of adventures, I settled in to a lovely dinner with lovely friends.  It's always nice to see everyone, and my goodness how the babies have grown! 

It did take me over an hour to get to my hotel in Bedford from Frisco because of the damn construction on 121 near the airport.  Curse you road improvements!  I was so frustrated I was near tears because EVERY single road was blocked off.  To passing motorists I probably appeared to have a severe case of Tourettes because I was just yelling at the road signs telling me I couldn't go where I needed to.  I'd be driving along some back road trying to get to the highway a different way and in the blink of an eye without warning I'd approach road barriers and my plan would be thwarted.  I pretty much immediately passed out when I got to my hotel, and after a long trip home Friday, slept VERY well Friday night. 

And that's that.  Toodles.

Man (and Woman's) Best Friend

You probably all know I'm an avid dog lover.  I grew up with dogs, and I have my own fur babies now.  First was Jenni, the delightful little fur ball of a Bichon.  I loved her as my first pet, but I think she was a bit wary of me from my toddler years when I'd pull her ears to get her attention, or any number of other childhood offenses.  It was a sad day when we took Jenni to the vet and said our goodbyes, and a big stone in our Ontario backyard still marks her final resting place. 

A few years later came Katie, another beloved Bichon. 

I begged and pleaded to get her, promising I would dutifully walk and feed her, and never let her be starved for attention.  I did some of the things I promised.  Mom picked up my slack.  Katie was my pal, my little white mass of furry love.  She pissed me off sometimes (I don't think I've ever been so mad at her as when she tore apart a Christmas present I had wrapped to resemble the Virgin Mary, with a tennis ball she obviously wanted serving as the head).  But, she made for endless laughs when I was growing up, and she's my little fur sister.

You guys know ALL about Truman and Cherry.  Anyway, a few weeks ago I stumbled across an article that made my cry in my office. 

Hawkeye

I was truly touched and amazed to see the picture of that beautiful dog paying his final respects to the man he loved more than anyone.  I read the original story on a different site, and I was struck by the comments.  Most mentioned how heart-wrenching the picture was, but a few caught me off-guard.  The comments were to the tune of "Who cares about dogs?  People get so worked up over a dog."   Boy did that get me fired up.  I'm obviously pretty passionate about dogs, and I get the occasional weird look from people when I talk about how much I love them and how they are equally a part of my family as any human.  I say this to anyone who questions the value of dogs, and I'll say it now:

Dogs are what humans should be.  Remarkably happy, unflinchingly loyal, unconditionally loving, endlessly patient, and forever trusting.  Dogs see the good in everyone- pretty, ugly, smart, dumb- a dog will be by your side. Not to mention they're just plain funny.  They can inspire side-splitting, snort-inducing (at least for me) laughter that rivals any joke or story someone could tell me.  Anyone that questions the value of dogs will clearly never live up to what humans should mirror in them. 

As Katie nears the sunset of her 15 1/2 years on this Earth, I can't help but to feel blessed that she was my dog.  She was my friend.  She chased me around the house and the yard as I dissolved into a fit of giggles.  She rested patiently at the foot of the couch when I was home sick from school.  She worked herself into such a state of excitement everyday when I got home that her whole body would shake with her tail.  She couldn't get in enough doggy kisses.  And, most importantly, she nestled her head into my lap any time I cried and sat it out with me, never growing bored, never expecting anything of me. 

Truman and Cherry do the same.  Which is why I love them.  And that's why I'll always be a dog lover, and I will never understand someone who can't see how amazing they really are.

So to sum up, dog-haters can suck it.

Mamajuana anyone?

Mamajuana being this highly potent alcoholic drink native to the Dominican Republic.  They don't let you bring it to America.  It's quite intense.

Ok yes, we got back from our honeymoon about three weeks ago.  I'M SORRY.  I fail.  To be honest, I'm still not 100% caught up at work, but I'm getting there.  I have decided that I'm never going on vacation again.  I had about 120 emails when I got back.  Sigh.  Our honeymoon, however, was fantastic!

Here are some pics-

 

On the bus headed to the hotel.

 

Our welcome drink while we waited for our room to be ready.

 

I used the life out of that jacuzzi.  Afternoon bath everyday?  Why not...it's my honeymoon!

 

Our beautiful room.  Everyday had a new towel creation, courtesy of our maid.

 

Pool view from our balcony.  The ocean is just off to the left.

 

I pretty much always had some sort of vodka drink when we were in the room.  And we brought the rum home.  Caribbean rum is where it's at.

 

Walk on the beach the first evening.  One of the few pics of both of us, courtesy of a lady walking on the beach.

 

Love this lil guy!

 

Manny the cute sea lion.  I called him Truman while we were there.

 

 Manny kiss!

 

 This isn't Photoshopped.  The dolphin actually jumped over me.  Pardon my lack of paying attention to the guy taking the pics.  I was too excited.

 

Zip-lining through the jungles.  This was so much fun.  Hi Scott!

 

As you can see, the camera was hooked through my helmet.  So, these are the kind of pics I got of myself

 

Here comes Scott again!

 

The vantage point all week for me and my finger-toes.

 

Loved long afternoons reading on the beach.  :)

 

Snorkeling in the waters off our resort beached turned out to be one of our favorite things.

 

Dinner the last night.

 

Our home-bound airplane.

 

Bye bye Punta Cana.  

I obviously took quite a few more pictures, but these are some of the highlights.  We really had a great time.  I burnt my shoulders to a crisp day one on the beach (as did Scott), so we took that as an opportunity to take it easy most of the week. We'd do an excursion one morning (dolphins one day, zip-lining another), and then come back and relax with a fruity drink by the beach or pool.  We also took advantage of the food choices, eating at least once at all the restaurants.  My faves were the Japanese Hibachi Grill and Asadito Steakhouse.  Sometimes we'd have lunch and then go to the buffet just for ice cream.  What of it?

We made a few friends throughout the week at the resort.  We'd run into this other honeymooning couple almost every night at the lobby bar, so we'd chat with them before and after dinner.  We played in a poker tournament on Tuesday night.  I think it started with 19 players, so not a big tourney, but the top 3 made the money.  I finished 3rd- holla!  I knocked out some peeps, including my own husband.  People called me ruthless.  I call it winning.  We played in the tourney Friday night too, and in that one Scott made the money so that was nice.  The best part- having NOTHING to do most days.  We just did whatever we wanted.  Nap on the beach?  Sure.  Ice cream at noon?  Hell yea.  Sit at the swim-up bar for a few hours?  Yes.  Sleep 'til 11 or noon?  We've got nothing else to do!  It was, to use an unnecessary adjective, sublime.  

Anyway, I'll leave you with this.  Much love all my blogger monsters!

 

L

Love the beach!