just another day in paradise

Raul, our maid in Cancun (yes, we had a maid. And a personal concierge. We live large, what can I say?) left us these towel swans in love.



I made the hubs pose with them...if you look closely, you can see that they are holding a (Kleenex) rose in their mouths. Raul is a stickler for detail.


From our day trip to Chichen Itza. This is the Castle of Kukulkan, the main structure there. Before we got there, I thought this was it, but it turns out there's a whole city of ruins there.


Me trying to master the starlet pose in front of one of the other structure. There were a ton of these columns, which apparently once held a stone roof.


aaaaah.

me and the hubs at the airport. my wallet still in the car, smile still on my face.


me after about 4 hours of our first Miami layover. boredom had set in.


the passport that took so much to get...note how lovely that passport photo is. the AAA woman said I wasn't allowed to smile, plus my face is nice and puffy after a day of sporadic crying. also, I hadn't showered. niiiice. I for some reason was unable to take a clear photo of it, but at least this way I didn't have to photoshop out my last name, I guess.


but this makes it all worth it: the view from our Cancun balcony.


more photos to come...

how are you feeling?

Things that actually happened in the last four days:

-While typing this, the very attractive young couple sitting behind me in the lobby (where the internet works) is playing verrrrrry bad R&B through their laptop speakers. Why do they think this is okay?

-I got a head cold. In the Caribbean. In August. Seriously.

-I discovered the wonder that is Easy Mac. How did I miss this in college?

-We went to see Chichen Itza. It was pretty spectacular, and as soon as I can post photos, I will.

-I got a bit tan!

But best of all...

-The Aquarobics instructor (a late-30sish Mexican man with an amazing accent) asked his class "how are you feeling?" When they responded with a half-hearted chorus of "okay/good" he chastised them. "NO! When I ask 'how are you feeling?' the answer is always 'SEXYSEXY!'" I mean, really. Now the hubs and I can't stop asking each other how we're doing, and trying to trick one another into saying something other than "SEXYSEXY" since that is obviously the right answer. Next time someone at work asks how you are, you know what to say.


P.S. the R&B couple left and were replaced by 4 people in their late 50s/early 60s, one of whom said that I "look young and intelligent" before asking me how to Skype. I had to tell them I'd never done it before, and they said they were going to try it. God, I really am so 2000 and late. These are the risks of being a late adopted of technology. You get passed up by people who are grandparents already. (I just heard them talking about their grandkids.)

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell

(I tried to insert photos here, but the resort interwebs is too slow for that...when we get back to American soil, I'll edit this post to include photos.)

I remarked to my husband last week that we had just had about the best 5 day stretch in our hometown I’d had in a looong time, possibly ever. We had nothing we had to do. No holiday dinner marathons. No wedding planning appointments. No studying. Nothing. We visiting in a pretty leisurely fashion with our families (including my sister, who’s moving out of town; my Danda, who’s been “sprung” from the nursing home rehab place this week; both sets of parents; my uncle, who lives in town and yet I rarely see; and my cousin (his son), who went to college this week). Anyway, it was awesome. We went to the pool (working on those base tans, you know). We ate all our hometown favorite foods. We went to a baseball game—bought $5 tickets and watched first 7 or so innings in $40 seats and the last few (there were extras) in what I’m guessing were $100+ seats. I relaxed. Finally.

Then I started to pack for our tropical adventures. My lovely husband has already chronicled a bit of the debacle that was my passport situation, so I won’t relive it. I’m happy to report that I did indeed receive a valid US passport and got fairly little guff about the situation from our lovely US State Dept employees, despite needing a passport less than 24 hours before leaving the country for my own danged honeymoon. Special shout-outs in that situation to my aforementioned lovely husband for keeping me sane, MMC for putting me up and helping me navigate Detroit, the Detroit Westin for having such a totally comfortable lobby and not glancing twice at me though I hung out there for the better part of the day, and J.K. Rowling for writing a series of books I can read for hours at a time without totally zoning out or wishing I was dead (though I have often found myself this week thinking “if only I could do a summoning charm and summon my passport!” or “if only I could go back in time and see where past Kate put that passport!” or “if only I could apparate and be in Detroit already!”).

The passport office, by the way, is totally ridiculous. It’s like a very high-security DMV. You can’t call and you can’t drop in, but they have a waiting room set up for about 100 people and the whole time I was there, literally not a single person waiting. Also, they have about 13 windows (like bank-teller windows) and about four people working behind them, all but one seemingly playing solitaire.

As a complete aside, on the 4 hour drive to the Detroit area, I passed a semi which had written in the dirt on the back (you know, like some people will write “WASH ME” in the dirt) “I HONK 4 HOOTERS.” I thought it was pretty absurd, but you know…if you drive long enough, you’ll see some absurd stuff. But then, the driver actually honked at me! I can assure you I did not flash him. In fact, I was wearing a totally gross (crew neck) t-shirt and hunched over like I was, my gut sticks out more than my “hooters.” I had no idea it was possible to be sexually harassed while minding my own business, watching the road from my own car, but there you have it. It’s everywhere.

Anyway, the story of my being a total idiot most unfortunately does not end with the case of the missing passport. Let me back up and say I own two pairs of shorts that are decent to wear in public. I wear said shorts pretty frequently, and probably as a result, the hems had fallen out of them. So I dropped them off at the dry cleaners to be fixed and was supposed to pick them up Friday. Friday, of course, I was getting a passport, so you’ll understand when I say I didn’t get to it. So Saturday morning, my mom drives us to the airport and we stop on the way to pick them up. I pay for them—not too pricey. I’m very pleased with the work; they did a great job. I somehow manage to shove the shorts into my suitcase. We’re off to Cancun!

It’s not until we’re checking in I realize…I’ve shoved the shorts into my suitcase AND NOT MY WALLET. I took the wallet out to pay the dry cleaners and left it in my mom’s car. Yes, seriously. And my mom’s not answering her cell phone.

I mean, it’s not the end of the world. After the passport debacle, the hubs was put in sole custody of my shiny new passport, and he’s got a credit card and whatnot, so it really would have been fine. It’s just…seriously? Am I losing my mind? I really don’t feel quite like myself. I am a pretty together lady, generally. So why all of this? My husband and my mom blame the bar exam, and maybe that’s part of it, but part of me feels like I’ve been suuuper stressed out a lot over the last 6 or so months, and now I’m…not. Or at least shouldn’t be. Shouldn’t that free up lots of brain space to do things like, I don’t know, REMEMBER TO KEEP YOUR FUCKING HEAD ATTACHED TO YOUR STUPID NECK?!

In the end, we checked the bags and then waited to go through security. My mom was able to go all the way home, get the message that the wallet was left behind, find the wallet, and get back to the airport, all with lots of time left over for us to get to our flight.

All of these situations over the last couple of months (I did tell you all the bar exam seat voucher story, right? If not, I will.) have impressed upon me two equally important lessons: (1) I am never, ever to be bitchy to my mother or my sister for being such complete flakes. It’s genetic, and the second I have a snide thought about my mom forgetting her bag or my sister leaving her purse on the Metro, IT WILL KICK MY ASS. They are not kidding when they say karma’s a bitch. (2) I am seriously the luckiest person you have ever met in your danged life. I was able to sit for the bar exam (and arrived on time, no less). I got a passport and am currently headed to Mexico. I bought myself breakfast at the airport, using the credit card I took from my wallet. Also, my husband hasn’t left me yet.

I guess if you have to be stupid, lucky and stupid’s a pretty good combo.

the next chapter

Thank you to all of you who sent condolences on the death of my grandmother. Honey was a brilliant and, frankly, at times difficult woman. At her core, though, I think she was really a woman who just wanted people to love her and wasn't ever quite sure how to make it happen. In that process, I think she sometimes missed the fact that we were all going to love her anyway. She also was a woman, much like myself, who KNOWS her sweets. Anywhere I go, I know where all the ice cream places in a 5 mile radius are--and that's just straight genetics. Her favorite was a butterfinger blizzard, and if you can, you should go get one today: it'sMiracle Treat Day--buy a blizzard and it benefits children's hospitals. A miracle. I think it's a sign. Anyway, I miss her already.

My Danda, her husband of 55 years, has been ill as I mentioned. He has not, however, lost his sense of humor. I asked him how he was? "I was all right, but I got over it." When a neighbor came to express her condolences (a totally adorable old woman) after she left? "What a twit. You'd be playing chess with the King of Poland and she'd bring a Parcheesi set." And of course, of the nursing home rehab where he's currently staying? "I ain't gonna be there long...nice people, but too damn many rules." Please continue to keep him in your thoughts, so that he gets stronger and can (safely) go home soon.

Also, a special shout-out to my Aunt Denise and Uncle Tom who, by virtue of both their proximity and borderline sainthood have shouldered waaayyy more than their fair share of the work involved in caring for our aging family. I honestly don't know what we would do without them, but I'm glad I won't have to find out.

Honey insisted that we have a wake, and as far as I know, her only request was that there be only top-shelf liquor. We honored her request (of course) and told stories and laughed and cried. Mourning is always made a little easier with a pretty spectacular fam and a couple vodka lemonades.

But anyway, the hubs and I are back home and currently packing to move out of our place here. And by "packing," I mean, watching the professional movers pack. This is our first professional move, since the firm is paying for it, and let me tell you: it's way better than doing it yourself. For example, I am sitting here blogging while a nice young man with full sleeves (definition link included for you, Dad) puts all our (sweet new wedding gift) dishes into boxes.

So tomorrow we're loading up our car with everything (hopefully) we're going to need for the next couple months and hitting the road tomorrow. First stop: our hometown.

Honey

This is my grandmother, Mary Jane, known better to us grandkids as Honey. She died last night of a stroke.

She was a voracious reader, and when I was a kid and she was in better health, the best part of every visit was our trip to Joseph Beth. She'd buy us each a book and we'd have lunch in the cafe. It was magical.

We love you, Honey.

excellent, totally

Danda and CWMM both are recovering as well or better than expected. So thank you. And YAAAAAAAAY!!!

So as I've alluded to, the hubs and I are experiencing a period now of "pre-retirement." My job has been deferred, meaning while I expected to start next month, I won't actually be starting until January. The hubs is leaving his job where we currently live (Our lease here is up next week, and we want to get the hell out of dodge ASAP. Never know when more waterballooners might strike.) and so we're...doing a lot of nothing.

This means this is the perfect time for our deferred honeymoon.

First up, as a result of two VERY generous wedding gifts: a week each in Cancun and Aruba. Yes, seriously. My life doesn't suck.

Then two weeks in our hometown followed by a marathon roadtrip--6 weeks staying with friends, camping, hiking, sight-seeing, book-reading, and mostly driving across this amazing country of ours. Again I say: our lives don't suck. In any case, I will slowly unveil the itinerary of the trip and plan to post as much as possible (including LOTS of photos) from the road.

So anyway, get psyched. Lord knows I am.

say a little prayer

If you're the praying kind. If, like me, you're a godless heathen, keep a couple people in your thoughts, would ya? CWMM and my danda (grandpa for those of you not in the loop). All my love to them both for speedy recoveries.

What you really need on a day like this is a good jar.

lady of leisure

So the good news is that, with any luck at all, this is the last post I make with the tag "bar study." The bad news is that I spend the next 2-3 months waaaaiiiiting for results. And any of you who knows me knows I am really not good at waiting for things.

But, in any case, this means that for the next 5 months or so, I am a lady of leisure, which is pretty fucking sweet. The bad news about this is that being a lady of leisure is a lot less fun if you have no money. Which I don't. Anyway, the hubs and I are doing some traveling and I plan to read for pleasure and cook lots of complicated things and finally hem those pants that have been sitting around and have a beer in the middle of the afternoon if I damn well please and sleep sleep sleep.

This is the first time I've had more than a couple weeks off since I was 14, I'm pretty sure. So I intend to live. it. up.