Another 21 Random Questions Survey

Is your last name longer than your first name?
Nope!

Do you like apples, pears, or strawberries?
Apples and strawberries, yes; pears, not so much.

Do you eat pigs feet?
No.

Can you rub your belly and pat your head at the same time?
Yes.

Are you a mutitasker?
No.

Do you do naughty things?
Could you define ‘naughty’, please?

Are you ashamed of who you are?
No!

When was your last headache?
Two nights ago.

Can you lick your nose?
No.

Do you collect your change in a jar?
No, I collect it in a box that my mother-in-law gave me.

Have you ever got caught taking a sick day when you were not sick?
No, but then again, I haven’t been employed for but three months of my life.

Have you ever eaten alligator?
No.

Do like cheescake?
No, I don’t think I do.

Have you ever hopped out of a speeding car?
No.

Have you ever watched something you know you shouldn’t have been watching?
Yes.

Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?
No, surprisingly. There are so few male teachers! And those that there *were* were never both unweird and good looking.

Have you ever tortured on purpose?
Have you ever tortured someone NOT on purpose?

Do you think about someone at night?
Yes.

Would you date a disbaled person?
Sure; I’m disabled myself. A DISBALED person, though — no.

24 or CSI?
CSI

Ice cream or Smoothie?
Ice Cream. No question!

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60 Questions People Don’t Ask Survey

Courtesy of Richard Brandon.

When’s the last time you ran?
Umm …

Do your jeans have rips, tears, and holes in them?
I try to get rid of them when they’re that far gone.

What are you dreading right now?
The day our housekeeper quits! I really don’t relish doing laundry!

Do you celebrate 420?
Sorry to disappoint.

Do you get the full 8 hours of sleep a night?
Only eight?

If anyone came to your house on your “lazy days” what would y’all do?
Watch reruns on TV.

Who last grabbed your ass?
Huh?

Have you ever been on your school’s track team?
No, although I was invited.

Do you own a pair of Converse?
Nope, sorry.

Did you copy and paste this survey?
Sure ’nuff!

Do you eat raw cookie dough?
No, I don’t; raw eggs transmit salmonella, and I’ve been there and done that.

Have you ever kicked a vending machine?
Nope.

Don’t you hate it when the radio ruins good songs by playing them over and over?
No, I kind of like it, actually.

Do you watch Trading Spaces?
No.

How do you eat oreos?
I just bite into them.

Have you ever stayed online for a very long time waiting for someone?
Not in about 15 years.

Are you cocky?
I don’t think so.

Could you live without a computer?
Live? Probably. Function like a normal being? No. I can’t handwrite.

Do you wear your shoes in the house?
Yes, but they are clean.

Who or what sleeps with you?
Ben and sometimes Zamba.

At what age did you find out that Santa wasn’t real?
I vividly remember asking my mom about Santa when I was six.

How many phones, house phones and cell phones are in your house?
Too many to count. Nine or ten, I think.

What do you do when you’re sad?
I cry.

Who would you call first if you won the lottery?
Ben.

Last time you saw your best friend?
He’s right next to me.

Are you in high school?
No. Been there, done that.

What jewelry are you wearing?
My Medic Alert ID bracelet, the necklace that Mom B gave me two Christmases ago, and the cross that Mom gave me upon my confirmation.

Is anyone on your bad side now?
Not really.

What’s the first thing you do when you get online?
Check my email, google reader, and Facebook.

Do you watch Grey’s Anatomy?
Yes, although I’m not crazy about it.

How do most people spell your name?
Kathy, Kathie, Cathy, or Cathie.

Would you wear a boy/girlfriends clothes?
Sure.

Where do you work?
I’m unemployed!

What are you doing tomorrow?
I’m going to the senior’s writing group at church.

Is Justin Timberlake becoming the next Michael Jackson?
You know, for all the press Justin Timberlake gets, I don’t know a single song he sings.

Favorite name for a girl?
Can’t tell you that.

Favorite name for a boy?
Bemis.

Will you keep your last name when you get married?
Nope =)

When was the last time you left your house?
About eight hours ago.

Do you return your cart?
Yep.

Do you have a dishwasher?
Yes. =)

What noise do you hear?
My computer.

Would you survive in prison?
I’ve been thinking about this lately, and I don’t know. I don’t do well with little sleep.

Who is the youngest in your family?
Kimberly-Imberly “Nude Dude” Scott

If all of your friends were going on a road trip, who would most likey overpack?
I don’t know.

Do you know anyone with the same name as you?
Yes, Kathy is a very common name.

What’s the last thing you purchased?
Lip gloss.

Do your siblings ever pay for stuff for you?
No. We haven’t lived in the same state for almost ten years.

What brand are your pants right now?
Um … Kathy Brantley brand. I’m not wearing any.

Ever been to Georgia (the state)?
Yes!

What irritates you most on the internet?
No idea.

What brand is your digital camera?
Canon.

Do you watch movies with your parents?
Yes, but my dad leaves during the sex scenes. This is preferable to fast forwarding, but I’m still not crazy about it. I mean, I’m here, aren’t I?

What song best describes your life right now?
Bad Day

Do you own expensive perfume/cologne?
No. Would you believe it that my favorite perfume right now is the stuff that came with the deoderant I bought at Target?

Are you taking college classes right now?
Nope.

Do you like sushi?
No way.

Do you get your hair cut every month?
No.

Do you go online everyday?
Yes, I do.

Will you pass this survey on to 5 people?
Nope.

Comments

Getting Home is Just As Easy As Getting There

This is the third and last post about our trip to Costa Rica.

As mentioned before, we woke up at some ungodly hour like a quarter ’till five. “Oops,” said Ben, after we were all packed and ready to go, “I misread our flight time. We have an additional hour.” I groaned.

We arrived at the airport EARLY — 7:45am or so. We paid our exit tax, went through customs, etc., and arrived at our gate, where we sat for two hours with the rest of America who travelled to Costa Rica along with us. I bought a hat and some decals (which I collect) at the shop near our gate. I browsed the internet. I cursed Ben for getting us there so darn early.

They *finally* announced that our flight was boarding, so we got to sit at the gate and watch while everyone else got to board. We were in group 5 and had to wait. Can you tell how perfectly happy I was to be flying American? To be sitting and waiting?

Well, if you thought I was excited BEFORE we got on the plane, let me assure you, I was thrilled when we got out on the tarmac and the pilot came on to announce that we had some mechanical problems and that they would be able to fix them if we just sat there patiently. “Oh great,” I told Ben. “I’m SURE this is a 20-minute problem and we’ll be out of here in no time.” Yeah right.

Two hours later, the pilot finally admitted defeat, and busses came out to cart us back to the terminal, where we were greeted by yet another 250-person line. After waiting twenty minutes to speak to someone, Ben instructed me to please take his place in line — he was going to find someone who could actually help us. Half an hour later, the gate attendant disbanded the line with some nonsense that, “We can’t rebook anybody else,” and I got up and went to find Ben. And some french fries; I was hungry!

“Oh, hello!” he greeted me. “We’re rebooked to Miami today and we’ll fly MIA -> DFW -> DEN tomorrow.”

It sounded good enough to me. However, while we were waiting back at our gate, somebody came on the overhead and announced that the flight to DFW, where we were originally headed, was once again boarding. Ben approached the gate agent at our Miami gate.

“Could we please be rebooked to Dallas?” he asked politely. The lady, who looked vaguely like an SS officer in a dark blue uniform, looked at him sternly.

“No.”

“Why not?” he pressed.

“We can’t rebook you so close to take-off time.”

“Thank you.” As soon as we moved out of earshot, I asked him why in the world he’d been so polite. I’d never heard of any rules regarding rebooking under the wire. “Oh, I don’t think there ARE any rules like that; certainly not on United,” he explained. “However, I don’t think she was in the mood to help us.” I frowned. I was about to make a desperate plea for him to do something when they called for final boarding for the flight to Miami.

That’s about the end of our travel nightmare. We changed our flights home the next morning so that we had a little bit of time to sleep in. American put us up in a nice hotel in Miami; we ate (FINALLY!) and slept (which, to my tired eyes, felt wonderful). I almost couldn’t believe it when we landed in Colorado.

Home at last:

Colorado From the Air

The trip home was pretty smooth, but lest it get too boring, I left my GameBoy on the SuperShuttle. All’s well that ends well, though: I got my GameBoy back.

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Life’s a Beach

NOTE: Some of the links to my pictures don’t work, and I’m not sure what’s up with the link I included in the middle of the post, which has expanded to include paragraphs before it, but I figure it’s better to publish this before TOO late.

The first thing we did in Costa Rica was ask our driver to take us someplace where we could get a bite to eat. (They did feed us on the plane, but it was so disgusting that I declined to partake.) He took us to an open-air restaurant — and boy, was it tasty! I ordered shrimp — yum! — but the best thing at Costa Rican restaurants is, hands-down, the juice. Orange juice is fresh-squeezed. Watermelon juice is available in large quantities. They even have BANANA JUICE! (How do you make banana juice? I don’t understand that …) Jake LOVED it! They even had bananas hanging from the ceiling! LOTS of bananas!

Then we began our two and a half hour journey over to Nosara. I’m actually kind of glad we got to drive; it was so beautiful! And we saw the ‘human side’ of Costa Rica, which was humbling. From the houses we drove by, I’d say that the standard house is a one room shack. It has windows, but no glass. (Don’t these people get eaten alive by bugs? I would!) The schools have no windows but are surrounded by barbed wire fences. It looked like a rather depressing place to grow up, but everybody seems reasonably happy! Maybe it’s because their beaches are gorgeous, their fruit is delicious, and they’ve got monkeys hanging from all their copious trees.

We pulled in to Harmony Hotel a couple hours later. After a very boring introduction from the receptionist at the front desk, we walked into our room and discovered that it had air conditioning. Ben was ecstatic! We rendesvoused with Craig, who was joining us on our surfing excursion. Unfortunately, we had no clothes except for the ones on our backs — the clothes we’d been wearing for two days now. We ate a quick dinner and then collapsed from exhaustion.

Harmony's Pool

While we’re on the subject of exhaustion, however, I’d like to bring to your attention the fact that I slept for maybe five hours the night before. And I wasn’t dead! I was able to get on an airplane and survive, even interact with my fellow travellers, the next day. That’s a MAJOR step forward; previously, I wouldn’t have ‘worked’ properly. I’d have been totally, completely, dead to the world.

Back to our trip. We awoke the following morning after 14 hours of snoozing and got up for breakfast; it was TASTY. Then, we investigated our surfing options. Ben had arranged for us to take lessons from Innocent Surf School, apparantly the best in the area, so we walked up there to ask them where we could buy swimsuits and sunglass holders. You may recall that I’m very sensitive to the sun; I cannot be in any kind of sunlight without sunglasses. Up here, at 8,250′, I can’t be out in cloudy weather sans glasses, either. Before we left for Costa Rica, I ordered a pair of “surf sunglasses” designed to stay on in the surf that I prayed would shield me sufficiently. (Apparantly, it’s the blue light that’s the problem, so I need glasses that filter light from that end of the spectrum.) However, my special sunglasses were in my luggage, which was who knows where. When I inquired about glasses, the guy at the desk told me, “Oh, no worries. If you can find a strap you’ll be fine. We won’t be surfing any waves that will rip them off.” Score!

So Ben and I walked around, shopping for bathing suits and sunglass straps. $125 later, we were all ready to go! (The expense bothered us, but if we missed today’s surfing lesson, we were told, we’d have to wait until the end of the week to start, and that was too much of our vacation to skip out on!)

When we got out twenty minutes later, we resumed our lessons on the shore. This time, Alex taught us how to stand up. “There are four things you must pay attention to when you’re surfing,” he told us. “Your feet, hips, hands, and head. But first, a little word on standing up: do it quickly, and try not to shift your center of gravity off the board.” We practiced jumping up to a standing position on our boards.

“Your feet should be pointing IN,” Alex instructed us. “This is not snowboarding.”

“Your hips should face the front of the board. I know that your feet are facing the side, but you’re not GOING to the side.”

“Your hands should be on either side of your board. This goes hand-in-hand with your hips; plant your feet on that board and then turn the top of your body so that you’re going forward.”

“Finally, please look to the front of your board. That’s the direction you’re going, and I’d like to you make sure you’re not going to decapitate your friend, run into a shark, etc.” He gave us some pointers on what to do if we fell off; apparantly, your board then becomes your worst enemy. After encouraging us to protect our heads, he said, once again, “Let’s try it!”

I didn’t know how I was going to react to surfing lessons prior to trying it. There was a lot of empirical evidence to suggest that I wouldn’t enjoy it. As I mentioned before, I really don’t do well in the sunshine; would that stop me? Also, if you remember back to our Hawaii trip three years ago, you’ll recall that I didn’t like the waves at ALL back then. In fact, I mostly stayed out of the water. The noise scared me. I was prepared for a similar scenario here in Costa Rica.

But it didn’t happen. I LOVED surfing! After many, many failed attempts, I stood up — on the first day! I laughed and caroused with Ben and Craig. I joked with our instructor, Alex. I had a fantastic time.

We surfed every day for the next seven days. We rented our own boards so that we could practice between lessons, although I was so exhausted from surfing for an hour and a half with Alex that I didn’t make very good use of that. There was one day that I ducked out; the day that high tide fell right in the middle of class. High tide is hard to surf in because the waves break very late and very frequently, and I didn’t want to be the party pooper who came out of the water and said, “I’m sorry, could you turn the volume down?” I used by break to take pictures of our group, however, so it worked out!

Here’s our instructor, Alex, demonstrating How to Look Cool While Surfing Well:

Alex Demonstrating

And here’s Ben, ready to head into the surf:

Ben Ready

He’s standing up!

Ben Standing!

“There’s something wrong with the waves,” he complained.

Complaining

“Gosh darnit, I can’t catch anything!” he grumbled. “These waves are … are … they’re BROKEN! Why are we even surfing in this stuff?” Ben was disconcerted, going out at high tide. He didn’t care for the offerings, and he wasn’t at all shy about letting us know. Alex simply smiled. In case you can’t tell, I liked Alex a lot.

We had a really, really good time. I also had a LOT of energy. (It’s possible that I had such a good time BECAUSE I had so much energy.) I’d fall asleep at nine every night — no podcasts playing on my iPod, no time spent tossing and turning — and wake up before six the next morning. It felt *good*.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about my next encounter with the Mean Lady. I was sitting down to lunch one day about three days after my experience on the plane, coughing as usual, when I spot someone familiar at the table next to us. Sure enough, she turned around and says, in a nasally tone, “Oh, it’s YOU. How are you feeling today?”

I couldn’t believe that she was staying at the Harmony. Was my luck really that bad? What had I done to offend the Gods of Travel? What had I done to offend HER, save coughing?

“Much better,” I said quietly, stifling a cough. I didn’t see her again; maybe she left because she was terrified of my germs. I have no idea.

Alas, however, our time came in Nosara to an end. We drove to the airport for our flight back to San Jose, which went off without a hitch. Ben and I were spending one more night at La Finca Rosa Blanca, where we honeymooned almost six years ago. We even stayed in the same room as back in the day! We got our driver to drop us off to do some shopping at the big, open mall before we went, though. “Someone will pick you up in two hours. The mall is two blocks down that way,” he gestured south, “and restaurants are in the opposite direction.”

We walked FOREVER in the direction of the mall. We never found it! So much for recreating the romantic shopping trip of our honeymoon, though given our general lack of money, maybe it’s just as well. When the cab driver picked us up, he explained that “I think it is six blocks in that direction.” No wonder we never found it! Oh well — on to LFRB!

La Finca Rosa Blanca means “The Farm of the White Rose”. It’s located on a coffee plantation in central Costa Rica. It is truly gorgeous. Ben and I wandered around for an hour taking pictures of the grounds.

The lobby of the hotel:

La Finca's Hotel

Jake and Kate in front of the artwork on our wall:

Jake and Kate in our Hotel Room

The gorgeous grounds at LFRB:

The grounds at LFRB.

Some petals:

Petals Adorning the Ground at LFRB

More Petals on the Ground

We enjoyed dinner at La Finca at that night. It wasn’t what we expected, because the owner had built a restaurant there since our last visit, but dang, was it tasty. We began the evening with cashew soup, which was the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, I think. After that, we had fish wrapped in plaintain leaves, which was also to die for. I could’ve skipped dessert, which was fruit — and I don’t recommend star fruit (gross!), and then we tried some coffee. When I say “tried”, I mean it; it was my first cup of the stuff. It was disgusting. I don’t know how people drink it every day! Yuck!

After dinner, we returned to our room, soaked in the Jacuzzi, and went to bed. No sooner had I fallen asleep than I woke back up again, sat upright, and bolted for the bathroom; I don’t know what it was, but I was SICK. I threw up everything I’d eaten. I returned to bed, fell asleep, and then woke up and did the exact same thing. Then I did it again. It was gross. I’m really bothered by throwing up; for some reason, the sensation makes me very uncomfortable. Maybe it’s because my gag reflex is so strong; I’ve burst blood vessels in my eyes before. Whatever the reason, though, I strongly dislike puking.

The jacuzzi in our room, which could have been enhanced only by some WARM (the air was cold, we had no heat, and the water was lukewarm at best) water:

Jacuzzi

However, I even more strongly dislike the feeling of exhaustion the next day. (This has become an issue since my strokes.) We woke up at 4:45am the following morning; I was exhausted, partly because of the hour, partly because I’d been up all night the night before, and partly because my stomach was empty and I need food about every four hours. “We” ate our complimentary breakfast, except I declined to eat because I was afraid of getting sick again on the airplane home.

Ben contemplating something over sunrise:

Ben Contemplating

Ben packing up his computer bag:

Ben in Our Room

More to come in one more Costa Rica post!

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Costa Rica

The first of three posts about our trip to Costa Rica.

We arrived on May 1 after a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad journey.

We left on Saturday morning. We got to the airport on time, checked our bags, and sat at the the gate for about two hours because our plane was delayed.

When we finally got on, we taxied out to the runway. “I’m terribly sorry,” our pilot came on the intercom to announce, “but weather in Dallas has caused a small delay. We’ll be sitting here for at least an hour.” Fantastic, I thought. I twiddled away our hour of delay on my GameBoy. Then the pilot came back online to talk to us again.

“OK, folks, well … the news isn’t good.” We went back to the terminal, and I deplaned and bought some food. Then, after another unneccessary delay, we got back on. And we actually took off!

But it wasn’t a win. We stopped 500 miles from Dallas and started circling in a holding pattern. Three hours into that, the pilot came online to address us again. “Hello, folks! I know I haven’t been the belayer of great news lately, and this is no exception. We’re going to have to land in Armadillo for more fuel.” Oh, great. I LOVE Armadillo. It’s fabulous and picturesque. Quaint. NOT.

“… AND … you’re going to have to remain seated, because Armadillo doesn’t have a jetway large enough to accomodate our plane.” What? We were NOT on a big plane — just six seats across. Armadillo must have a *small* airport. “AND we’re going to accept some more passengers.” I could hear a little grumble from my fellow fliers. It was now about six o’clock. Everybody was hungry, tired, stiff from sitting on this plane for half an eon, and sick and tired of these delays.

But we took off again an hour later. We got back up to 34,000 feet and began turning circles once again. The dreaded voice of our pilot once again came over the intercom. “I’m sorry, folks,” he began, “but Dallas is once again on a weather hold. We’ll be up here until they reopen the airport.” Ugh. I was restless. My GameBoy had lost its appeal. I didn’t want to read my book anymore. I just wanted OFF this stupid airplane.

Three hours later, we finally got the OK to land. Ben tried to pacify me by saying, “We’re almost there! Calm down!”

“Yeah right. We’ll probably have ground delays and be stuck in Dallas ’till we’re fifty-eight.” I shouldn’t have spoken so soon, because as soon as we touched down in Dallas, a torrential downpour enveloped our plane and lightning lit up the sky around us. Ben was, at this point, online and watching the weather report. He showed me the radar; everything surrounding us was red. I groaned. “I’m sick and tired of this plane,” I told him. “I’m probably going to develop deep vein thromboses and die because they haven’t let me stand up in five hours. I want OFF.” Sorry for being such a party-pooper, Ben! It’s a good thing he’s so good-natured.

Two hours later, we finally docked and were allowed off the plane. It was now eleven o’clock. It had taken 10 hours to reach Dallas. We could’ve driven it faster than that! “Run,” commanded Ben. “Our flight to Costa Rica hasn’t taken off yet. We might be able to make it.” We took off at breakneck speed for the train that shuttled between concourses. However, once ON the train, Ben looked at his phone and announced that our flight had been cancelled.

“At least we didn’t have to wait at the gate for eight and a half hours,” I said, looking on the bright side. Then, as I thought about it for a minute, I added, “I’m starving.”

We walked past the formerly-Costa Rica gate; it had a line of about 250 people snaking out from behind the counter to the walkway. “I’m not waiting in that line,” Ben said disgustedly. “Let’s try to find a better place to ask for rebooking.” We walked by several gates, but with no one at the counter. Finally, we came to the Admiral’s Club. “Let’s try this,” Ben suggested. “We’re not members but maybe they can let us in anyway.” No complaints from me, and none from the man standing at the desk in the front, either. We went upstairs and found a five-person line moving at the breakneck speed of zero people/hour. “I’ll wait here; you go get some food,” Ben offered kindly. I didn’t think twice; I was outta there and off to find a restaurant in under a second.

There wasn’t much open, but I did find a newsstand that sold pretzels, cashews, Soft Batch cookies, and apple juice. Sold! I sauntered back to the Admiral’s Club. The door was locked! No problem, I thought, and had a seat on a neighboring bench. I opened the cookies first, had a couple, then turned to the pretzels and AJ, had a few bits and swigs, and then opened the cashews. It wasn’t tasting as good as it had looked in the store. Then, I noticed a man standing behind the counter directly in front of me. I sauntered over to him, listened to the problems the two men in front of me were having getting San Jose, and then inquired what *I* might do to get there myself. “Let me check,” he said. “Oh! We’ve already got you booked to Miami on a eight o’clock flight tomorrow morning, and a flight to San Jose the day after that.” I frowned. Why did we have to fly American, again? United wouldn’t have done this to us! (Ben’s a frequent flier on United, so he gets a lot of perks. He also knows all the codes that allow him to GET stuff like free hotel rooms.)

“Uh, thanks,” I muttered and walked away. I called Ben with the last bit of juice my phone had.

“Hi, sweetie, I wanted to let you know that we’re booked on a flight to Miami at EIGHT O’CLOCK tomorrow morning and we’ll arrive in San Jose the following day.”

“Thanks. I’m working with them on that now. Talk to you later.” Geez louise! I decided to see what I could do about finding him. I went into the Admiral’s Club, told the guy at the desk my husband was upstairs, and it worked! He let me in!

I got upstairs and inquired where the “short bald guy” was and someone escorted me to a back room. Ben was just finishing up. “We’re rebooked on a morning flight to Liberia,” he reported. Liberia is a city a two hours’ drive south of Nosara; we’d've booked our flights there if they hadn’t been so darn expensive. (San Jose, Costa Rica’s capital, is a six-hour drive from Nosara.) I smiled. Ben got a hotel voucher from the man and we were off!

Me, at about 1:30am, in the Dallas airport. What a zoo!

MickeyD’s was the only place open for dinner at DWI when Ben finished, so we stopped there at 1:30am. “This looks pretty fitting,” Ben commented when he saw the trash barrels.

The hotel we stayed in was a hoot. VERY Texan. It was huge! Like, enormously, gigantically, huge! Unfortunately, I can’t find the pictures I took of it, but take my word for it — it was big. We spent a total of six hours there. When I woke up in the morning, I was very tired and, unfortunately, pretty darn sick.

I don’t know if I wrote about it on my blog or merely on Facebook, but I caught Ben’s “Cold of Death” a couple days before leaving for Costa Rica. The symptoms were strange — a bit of soreness the first day, some soreness and a sniffly nose the second day, and by the third day, I had The Cough That Would Not Stop. It was miserable. So I made an appointment with Dr. Rosenthal and went in for a flu test, which, of course, came out negative — but now I had a letter proving it.

So, armed with cough drops and kleenex, we hop on our flight to Liberia. Not ten minutes into the flight, a flight attendant approaches me with a box of tissues in hand. “Good morning, Miss,” she greeted me (and I groaned), “How are you feeling?”

“OK,” I mumbled, trying my best not to bust out in another coughing fit.

“Some of our passengers are worried about possible flu transmission. Have you been tested?”

“Yes, I have a letter ascerting that it’s not the flu. Would you like to see it? It’s in here somewhere …” I began digging through my backpack.

“No, thanks, I’m just checking. It’s my job.” She smiled at me apologetically, then handed me the box of kleenex. “I hope you feel better!” I was mortified. I didn’t want to be coughing! Not at all! But I was going to enjoy this vacation, gosh darnit. I’d been looking forward to this since CHRISTMAS, when Ben proposed that we actually go, our finances be damned. So if you were on that flight with me, I’m sorry for potentially infecting you with my cold, but … this trip meant so much to me. I’ll spare you the sob story of my strokes (which would probably freak you out even more), unemployment, and subsequent depression, but please understand that I could not, would not abandon this week-long repreive.

Fast forward a half hour. I was coughing uncontrollably. So much so that I threw up. It was then that I noticed the lady in the seat in front of us glaring at me.

“I’ve got a letter from my doctor. Would you like to see it?” I rifled through my bag again, then looked up to see her ‘tsk, tsking’ at me. She didn’t want to see the letter. She just wanted to be obnoxious. And she was doing a pretty good job of it!

I coughed until I threw up again. When we reached Liberia a couple of hours later, Ben told me to “Stop coughing while we go through immigration.”

“Easier said than done,” I told him through continuous coughing. However, once we got in line, my coughing subsided. Until we got to the immigration desk, that is.

“Passports, please?” the inspector requested. Ben rifled through his pockets and pulled out his passport but not mine.

“Uh-oh,” he said nervously. “I swear I had my wife’s passport a minute ago. It must be on the plane.”

I’ve heard that nervousness can cause you to start coughing, and in my case, it did. My obnoxious lady, the one who was sitting in front of me on the plane, happened to be standing in the line next to me. “You should be ASHAMED of yourself,” she exclaimed. If I wasn’t red already, I turned scarlet instantly. I wanted to say so many things to her: ‘I have a note from my doctor attesting that this ISN’T the flu,” “I bothered to get checked before I got on the plane, and I think that’s worth something,” “I don’t think this is swine flu — Oink, oink,” and “Screw you!” but I just remained quiet and buried my head on Ben’s chest, tears welling up in my eyes. He put his arm around me and kissed the top of my head, his unspoken message — “It’s OK” — instantly comforting me.

Ten minutes later, somebody appeared with my passport. The only obstacle left was clearing the doctor. Ben had helped me fill out the form declaring any symptoms I had. (I was too tired to write anything.) I checked “cough”, which was really the only thing bothering me anymore. A man clad in solid white, with a mask around his face, approached me. “Have these symptoms persisted for more than a week?” No, I told him. “Could it be the flu?” No, I was checked for that, would you care to see the letter from my doctor? “Thank you,” he said, and let us through.

“That was easy!” I mumured.

“Would you sit here?” Ben asked. “I’ll go get our luggage.” I nodded. For the next forty-five minutes, I sucked on cough drops, trying not to ruin the success I’d had with immigration. Finally, Ben came back to tell me that he couldn’t find our luggage.

“Oh, I know,” I said. “I expected that.”

“Give me another half-hour.” So I sat there again, sucking on cough drops at a rate that exceeded the recommended maximum dosage, until I was one cough drop away from finishing the bag. FINALLY, Ben approached yet again. We were free to go! I popped the last cough drop in my mouth and we proceeded through customs and into the jungle.

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Stupid and Goofy Life Question Survey

I got this one from Richard B. Enjoy …

Do you love the last boy/girl you were talking to on the phone or texting?
Yes, I most certainly do!

Are you wearing a necklace?
Yes, it’s a little silver chain with two pendants: the cross that my mom gave me when I got confirmed and a diamond pendant from my in-laws two Christmases ago. I don’t take it off except for things like MRIs.

Is there anything in your past that you’d like to try again?
I suppose so … I’d like to redo my last day of surfing and not get out of the water after one wave.

Are you an emotional person?
I suppose that depends what meds I’m on. Right now, I’m trying out my drastically reduced dosage of anti-depressants, and I’m hyper-emotional. Two days ago, Ben and I were discussing an upcoming trip to Las Vegas and I told him to ignore the tears; they don’t neccessarily mean anything. This is known as “emotional lability” — when your brain thinks of an emotion and then reacts inappropriately. Oddly enough, though, I’m OK with this arrangement; I’d rather be ABLE to cry than not.

Look behind you, what do you see?
Two tired puppies and a beautiful view!

How’s your life lately?
Except for being unemployed and except for having a puppy who FORGOT her toilet training, it’s peachy! Thanks for asking! =)

Whose bed did you sleep in last night?
Mine.

Do you flip your pillow to the cold side?
No, I have an asymettrical pillow.

Are you afraid to grow up?
You mean, like, afraid to get old, have a stroke, and wet the bed constantly? No, I’m not afraid of that … I’m living that right now!

Have you kissed anyone in the past week?
Guilty.

Did you have a good day?
Today has been OK. Yesterday was a very good day.

Did you kiss anyone today?
Yes, I have.

Do you have a bad temper?
I don’t think so.

Will you be in a relationship next month?
And next year, and next decade, and …

Has anyone told you they loved you today?
Not yet!

Are you tired?
Yes, as a matter of fact, I am! I’ve entered a new phase of sleep: I can’t fall asleep without Ben. Not one wink! He stayed up late last night and I resorted to taking two Lunesta at 1am. =(

Think back to yesterday what were you doing at this time?
We were just finishing up our drive and heading back to Boulder.

Is there snow on the ground where you are?
Nope, it’s all melted, and THANK GOODNESS!

Is there someone you wish you were still close with?
Yes. I’m working on it.

When is your birthday?
Soon!!!

Do you think you’ll be married in 10 years?
Yes.

How many children do you want?
Four would be nice, two would be acceptable, and one healthy child would be perfect.

What are your plans for the weekend?
Yesterday, Ben surprised me with a drive through the mountains. We conveniently stopped at Black Hawk to pick up some Starbucks and free cash and then headed to Boulder to see an evening showing of Star Wars, which was excellent.

If you could move right now would you?
No way. I love my quiet home in the mountains!

Are you happy with the way things are going right now?
Sort of …

What do you currently hear right now?
Ben typing, the refridgerator running, Chaco breathing, and Zamba ringing the bells on our front door.

Where will you be in an hour?
Cooking dinner.

Is your heart broken right now?
Not at all.

What are you looking forward to in the next month?
My birthday!

Do you think you would make a good wife/husband?
Yes.

Is your MySpace profile private?
I don’t believe I HAVE a MySpace profile; MicroSoft is evil. However, in all other respects, nothing about me is private on the internet. Google me and read up on me; it’s not that interesting anyway!

Do you believe in love?
yes.

Do you think relationships are even worth it?
Absolutely!

Have you ever done anything outrageously dumb?
Yes. Does anyone remember the cow pasture fence in Germany? The electric one? And how the farmer said, “Well, it’s not that bad when you’ve got shoes on; try putting one hand on the ground and grabbing it with your other.” Ouch!

Is there something on your mind that shouldn’t be?
Yes.

Do you believe in celebrating anniversaries?
Yes!

Are you someone who worries too often?
No, I don’t think so.

Would you ever donate blood?
Yes. I say that with a little bit of hesitation because I’m still pretty scared of needles and I know that it takes a long time to find a vein in my arms; however, as a near-recipient of donated blood, I think that it’s important.

Was last New Year’s enjoyable?
New Year’s at the Scott House is always a blast.

Have you ever walked on the beach at night?
Yes.

Do you drink water?
Bottled water? I try not to. Regular tap water? You betcha!

What was the last thing you cried about?
Ben going to Las Vegas.

Have you ever lived with a girlfriend/boyfriend?
Guilty. =)

Do you prefer sweet or sour candy?
Sweet with the exception of Sour Patch Kids, which are insanely good.

Do you want to see somebody right now?
Well, Ben’s sitting right next to me and Chaco and Zamba are right downstairs, so no, I’m pretty good on folks I need to see.

How did you feel when you woke up today?
Tired. Sleepy.

Have you ever had a best friend who was of the opposite sex?
Yes. You’re talking a self-professed tomboy.

Do you know anyone that smokes pot?
I’ve known people that have tried it, yes.

Do you think somebody likes the same person you do?
I hope so, because Ben’s very friendly, but I’m not worried about it.

Ever climbed a fence?
That’s what they’re there for, right?

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Snip-Snip

Bright and early this morning (which is a bit of a misnomer, as it’s been rainy for a week around here and it wasn’t early, it was the crack of dawn) I dropped Zamba off at the vet to be spayed. At 10:37am, the vet called to let me know that everything had gone well and she was coming out of the anesthesia. At 4pm, I went over there and picked her up.

She’s alive, but she’s out of it. She had NO interest in the brand-new froggie toy I bought for her at PetSmart this morning. ZERO. She didn’t do much of anything while I payed and talked to the nurse about pain meds. As soon as we got out the door, however, she started licking herself. I went back inside and asked for a lampshade. “Sure, but why?” the nurse asked me politely. I explained that she was licking herself like her butt was a popsicle.

So now we’re home, and this is what I’m taking care of:

I opened the crate to get a better picture and she didn’t even look up, the poor puppy.

I love her, and I feel bad for her, but gosh, is she cute!

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