10 Reasons teleportation needs to be invented…

Otherwise known as 10 reasons I dislike flying on airplanes…



1. I am super jumpy on planes. This morning I knocked over the hubbie’s coke. Why? Because of those acrobatic turning maneuvers they thrown on us without warning. (Let me reinforce it wasn’t the turn that knocked over the coke… I did with my flailing hands.) Usually I can control it by firmly grabbing hold of the seat in front of me – attempting not to grab the poor passenger’s hair (like I did yesterday.) Imagine a monkey, wearing a seatbelt, riding in a car for the first time – that’s what I look like, EVERY time I fly.

2. Planes fly really high in the sky. I am not flying the plane. There is a slight control issue when I am in a plane.


3. Overbooking. Now I know when I booked the flight I had an assigned seat. So by overbooking does that mean that two people paid for the same seat? Yesterday I paid for a whole seat and only got a half… but that’s an entirely different matter.



4. Half-seats. Ehh… I’m being generous. I am pretty sure I only got a fourth of a seat on yesterday’s flight. Shouldn’t I have been discounted?? I understand it was not the passenger’s fault, they make seats small. But still. I was squeezed in! They flight attendants wouldn’t even let me sit in an entirely empty row because a mom didn’t want anyone sitting in front of her four year old son. There was extra room on the flight; she did not pay for those two empty seats. So she got 4 seats for the price of 2 and I got a ¼ seat for the price of 1. Where is the fairness in that?

Well I definitely scared my row companion when I said I didn’t like small planes and didn’t explain and then proceeded to flail around like a monkey. I know this is horrible, but I got some personal satisfaction out of her looks she was giving me. Oh and by the end of the flight, I am sure the mother across the row would have also offered me her extra two seats as I kept looking out of her son’s window because ours was occluded. I was definitely being a creepster yesterday.

5. Twenty – five dollars per bag and no peanuts. Seriously? I paid less for my Southwest ticket, got nice comfy leather seats, a hot chocolate and peanuts! Seriously.

6. Buses. Yesterday my husband was put on a bus to Boston… from Portland, Maine so he had more of a chance catching a flight. The airline lady said her family catches the bus from the Portland Airport all of the time because of the overbooking of flights … really? You work for the airline and don’t even get a seat? I think you just lied to me. I hate lying airlines.

7. Airlines lie all the time. About delays, cancellations, that “nothing is really wrong” but yet we have to sit on the tarmac for 45 minutes as the mechanic continues to peer into the engine I am sitting next to. After a few head shakes and a rising of shoulders he leaves. Really? So glad that it looks like you don’t know the answer to the final jeopardy question, but there will be a lot more problems no matter what you wagered if this engine doesn’t work.

8. If you can’t handle the pressure and think quickly on your feet, don’t work for an airline.

9. The very first seats on a plane need to have a spot to secure your belongings in front of you. Inevitably when they tell you that you can’t hang on to your purse and that you must put it in the over head compartment, you have to meander down to row 26 to even have some room. I am pretty sure it is a lot easier to hang onto a purse then the squirming 18 month old three rows behind me.

10. Airplanes should not feel like they are driving on rocks at 20,000 ft up in the air. That makes me slightly uncomfortable.

That is my soap box for now …. Really hoping teleportation is right around the corner….

If Historical Events had Facebook....

Saw this link on another blog - so not too original - but quite funny!


Happy Thursday!




Found here...

Much like the day was etched in stone...

I remember learning in school that when an event occurs in one’s life that is so monumental, horrific, and potentially life changing, we remember the very moment when we first heard the news. The weather outside, what we were doing, even the time of day that it had been. I use to shrug that off, vaguely remembering instances in which I somewhat remembered what I had been doing. Then 9/11 happened. It is truly startling the breadth and clarity one’s mine can remember a specific event. Much like the day was etched in stone, I believe that I will never forget that Tuesday.

Then again, I don't want to forget.

This.

I am taking this tomorrow. (Well I have been using this, but will be taking the GRE.)




My brain feels like this.




I feel like the GRE will do this to me.





(I am saving all my brain power for the test. Wish me luck!!)

The Fall

I love the fall season… the pumpkin carving, leaf color turning, the hot chocolate drinking, the cooler weather enjoying… but unfortunately that is not what I am referring to in this post.

So I have come to accept that I fall on what appears to be an irregular, but not uncommon basis. My right ankle sometimes decides to mix it up a bit and just takes a break once in a while. I can’t help it, and I am still not sure why... but I usually recover, save face and continue to walk on in pseudo - merry bliss.

Poor Justin used to think something was seriously wrong. We would be walking along (me usually in flipflops or high heels) and I would stagger and hopefully catch myself before I became best friends with the road or sidewalk. He would strongly grab hold of my arm and help me back to standing position, and look me straight in the eye with a worried expression. “What happened? Are you hurt? Let me take a look at it.”



Now, with two years of married life under his belt he helps me up and makes the nonchalant statment, “You all right.” I think it is a mix between the affirmation that his clumsy wife must be all right and perhaps 25% question. He still does the tear check… if I am crying it might be a little more serious. But other than that my staggers and falls go mostly unnoticed... unless I am a bridesmaid in a wedding in front of everyone.

I knew I would have issues. I think it was one of those “the animals get restless before a storm” kind of moments. At the church rehearsal we practiced walking up the stairs. I even made mention to the maid of honor that I would most likely fall up those stairs. I had figured that in the shoes I had selected, the length of my newly tailored dress, and the fact that I would be holding flowers – the odds were in my favor to take a tumble up what seemed like 20 stairs to reach the platform and my predetermined spot. (In reality I think it was only three stairs… but more than enough for me.)



On the day of the actual wedding, I was prepared. I would focus all of my energy, all of my EXISTENCE to make it up those stairs safely. When it was my time, I glided down the aisle by myself (the groomsmen were already up front), lifted my dress slightly and carefully attempted the stairs. I was successful! No falling. I made it to my imaginary x on the floor and the wedding continued without a hitch (with the exception of a merciless fly persistent on getting the best seat of the house – on the groom’s nose.) My friend – the bride- was so beautiful and absolutely glowed through the entire ceremony. I was so happy for her.

Before I knew it, the ceremony was coming to a close. The bride and groom had kissed and were now making their way down the aisle. The maid of honor and the best man moved to the front of the platform to descend the stairs and then it was my turn. Complete with pageant smile, I moved toward the groomsman I was paired with and intertwined my arm with his and attempted to make my way down the steps. I had prepared myself with the possibility of falling UP the stairs… but not taking a dive DOWN them.

The following mili-seconds felt like an eternity.

As soon as I took the step downwards, I knew something was wrong. My ankle decided to play on my team and actually stayed put, but it was my dress that had become an instant restraint as it pulled taught around my knees. To this day, I still do not know if it was the groomsman that had stepped on my dress or if I had been the culprit. What I do know is that I had not factored in final, yet devastating factor – being escorted out of the church meant one arm was in the groomsman’s arm, the other was holding my bouquet leaving my dress and its length to their own will.

As I slow motioned fell, face first down the stairs, many thoughts were racing through my mind. It’s amazing when you know that there is truly nothing you can do in an extremely unfair fight with improper footing and gravity that your mind decides to take off – running in all directions is it tries the final, feeble attempt to escape from the ensuing embarrassment.

These reflections include … “I never thought about falling DOWN the stairs.” “If the guests missed the fact I was falling, these hollow platforms won’t disguise the landing.” “I am pretty sure the video camera man just angled his camera down in my direction.” “I hope I will get a cut of the money if they win Funniest Home Videos.” “Please, strapless dress, don’t fall down.” “Is this what my mom felt like when she fell at her wedding?” “I wish I had placed a bet about falling.” “Kinda wish the groomsman would have held on, falling alone sucks.” “So that’s what it sounds like when 150 people gasp at the same time.” And finally… “Pretty excited about the wedding cake... if I survive the fall AND embarrassment.”

So as I lay, in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs, trying not to make eye contact with the bride’s parents, I push myself up, grab the groomsman’s arm and do the first thing that comes to mind.
I bow.

I have no idea why my brain thought to bow at that minute. I thought I was supposed to be embarrassed, not proud of attempting to stair surf and ending up becoming face to face with one of the flower petals in the aisle.

I received a peppering of nervous laughter, probably glad that I survived the fall without too many war wounds – gravity can be ruthless. I was glad I survived the fall. When all was said and done, I made it through the church doors and was out in the open air and fresh breeze trying to avoid stares and calm my apparently equally embarrassed groomsman who apologized 1,493 times.

And when Justin rejoined me after everyone had left, I asked him if he had seen the fall. No, he had responded. When Katie and Trey made their way down the aisle he had pulled out my phone to check the score of the UK UofL football game. He did however note that when he heard someone fall he leaned over to his friend and whispered, “… and that was probably Jenny. Right?”

So I have come to accept that I fall on what appears to be a regular basis.

And here are some pictures of the wedding….

What does your wife know...

(Slightly creepy picture)


If you have ever thought of keeping something from your wife, big or small… I would probably think again.


In a battle of whether my wife knows everything or my wife doesn’t know, the answer is finally solved!


A few weeks ago, a horse race at a New Jersey race track turned into a mouth full as two horses ironically named “My Wife Knows Everything” and “My Wife Doesn’t Know” saddled it out for a win. It was close, but watch the video to see the horse… and the concept that reigned victorious.

It is quite funny and I felt bad for the announcer!

“Aww.. they finally created a ride for the kids in a bubble”

If you want a night full of entertainment… go to a fair. It could be any fair – county, state, school – you will be in for a treat. You don’t even have to buy anything besides an entrance ticket. Well, it helps to bring some extra money for food… and maybe the Ferris wheel, but I promise you, you can’t go wrong.

How can I say this delicately? At fairs the most outrageous/interesting rides, food, and people come out for display. From fried EVERYTHING to people that appear to have escaped the local mental health facility to a ride where you can put your kid in a big plastic bubble… the fairs do it all.

Our close friends, J, and I were determined to get to this cultural staple. Only living half an hour away (driving time) from the fairgrounds, we naturally assumed leaving at 6:15p would put us getting there around 7pm. Well around 8:30p we found ourselves STILL stuck in traffic and two miles away from the bright lights of our future. Never turning down an adventure with friends, we hiked the two miles and were not disappointed.

Okay I’ll have to admit we were slightly disappointed that we had to almost take out a loan to purchase these tickets to ride just one ride. The sign read a dollar a ticket… and we needed four tickets a piece to ride the coveted Ferris Wheel, but it was worth it.


Here are some pictures from our “adventure.”

Walking two miles in flip, flops was rough work. Here is a picture once we arrived.




The ride I coined, “The ride for the kids in a bubble.” Unique, I know – but I have never seen anything like it. After watching for several minutes, we found that they have what looks like an over sized kiddie pool and kids in plastic bubbles without air vents. When they are ready to put more kids in the bubble, they simply zip them in and blow air in with a leaf blower. Although, if they kids get super feisty, its hard to get a hold of the bubble they are in. Quite entertaining.




Me on a super fast, spinney ride. I was scared for my life. Okay, it was the Ferris wheel… and not even the bigger of the two – but hey, I am afraid of heights. I was quite proud of myself. I also feared that if something were to malfunction with the wheel, our ride supervisors would simply just run away.




The height was worth it because the view was beautiful.. I think. (Justin took these pictures because I kept closing my eyes.)






We had a good time…