I have sincerely neglected my blog. I don't really have time to be updating now, but since I do love a good procrastination, here goes.

I'm currently taking the hardest course I have ever taken in my life. And I have a 90 in it. I'm under no illusions that my final grade will be that high, but at least I can say that I made it to mid-semester with an A in this class with one of the most difficult professors in this program.

Work has been picking up steadily - I asked for more projects and I got them. I'm busier and enjoy it more, but I'm also very certain this isn't where I want to be long term.

Brad and I hit the 2 year mark a few weeks ago. Some days it seems like it should be WAY longer than 2 years and some days it seems like we've just been married a month or two. Either way, I'm very happy and grateful to report that I still love him just as much as I did the day I married him. Maybe even a smidge more :) We haven't had it easy - I'm forever stressed between school and work...and every other week I see him for maybe half an hour per day. But maybe it's true what they say - absence makes the heart grow fonder. We don't waste our time together fighting or bickering. We just enjoy being with each other.

In less than a year I'm hoping to be able to knock another bucket list item off - reading the entire Bible. I've been doing pretty good with it, considering it takes me about half an hour to 45 minutes per day on top of all my school stuff. But even if it takes me just over a year (it's a year devotional), at least I'm getting through it.

I've started really running again. I've said that before, but I'm actually staying with it and making an effort to be in shape without getting hurt. I haven't lost any weight - I'm still 125, but I've dropped down to a size 0 in AE jeans - that's 2 sizes smaller than I was at the beginning of the summer. I guess muscle really does weigh more than fat! I'm running 4-6 miles regularly now. I'm running a 7 mile trail race on Saturday (hoping to just survive, the 5 mile version killed me last year!), a 5 mile race on Thanksgiving (hoping to beat my time from last year, then stuff my face with turkey!) and a 15k in DC in December with some friends (sponsored by Ghiradelli with all the hot chocolate and chocolate fondue I can consumer afterwards. Yes pleasee!!). After all that, I'm going to start training to run 5k's fast again. I feel like I might could get into the prime of my life - I want to be under 20 minutes again and maybe even 19 minutes. Lofty goals, but this is the longest I've stuck with solid training since college. I really think I can do it!

I've also started doing yoga fairly obsessively. I usually run in the mornings and then do yoga after a quick jog with the dogs after work (I've learned that the dogs aren't conducive to really training - stopping for pee and poop breaks really cramps my style!). I've never done it this regularly and I'm becoming a believer.

Still trying to figure out what to be for Halloween this weekend. For the first time in my life, I am TRIPLE BOOKED for Halloween parties! Maybe there is a social life to be found here after all...

Gotta slow it down.

There's such a fine line in wanting to speed up to a particular time in your life...and wanting life to slow down because you know it goes by too fast already.

So much has happened lately in my quest to get back to Charlotte. I was actually offered an incredible job to start on August 15...except it was a part time gig. A part time gig that might turn into a secure, exciting full time career...but part time isn't going to get us down there. I've had a few other nibbles in the form of interview requests and meetings and after applying to 80+ jobs...it's nice to know it's not all for nothing. The good news is, this part time gig offered to keep my name on the list and they're going to call me back in a few months to see if I'm down there yet. So hopefully I haven't lost my shot.

As a result of that, I'm house-hunting nearly every day. I want down there sooooo badly because sometimes I feel like I'm just wasting my life away up here. I'm in a job that's just that - a job. There's not really anything about this area that I'll miss once we leave. I didn't grow up here, so I don't have the ties that Brad does. It really means nothing to me. I'm almost counting down the days until I get my master's. This summer semester is almost over and then it's just one more class plus thesis. SO close. Yet still so far away.

Then again, I don't want to wish my life away. Soon enough, I'll wake up with teenagers in the house and my two beloved puppies won't be following me around the house while I do chores. Every day I speed through is one less day I'll spend with my loved ones. One less day of being young and energetic. I've got to do a better job of looking on the bright side of things. God will get me where I need to be when I'm supposed to be there. It's not my timing, it's His.

But Lord, if you could get me back to Charlotte by Christmas, you can tell Santa he doesn't have to bring me a thing :)

Just read it.

My cousin posted this on Facebook this morning. It's incredible. In so many ways, it's incredible.

And the Journey Finally Began...

Hodge Podge

I went back to church yesterday. That’s a big step for me. Don’t get me wrong…I haven’t been mad at God or anything. I’ve probably talked to Him more. But I was just done with church drama and always being pushed from my faith by going to church.


My parents understood why – they’ve watched me always be on the losing end of a fight. But it didn’t stop them from encouraging me to try it again. It’s just hard to relax and enjoy a church family when I always end up getting screwed by them in the end.


But sometimes, church is the only place that I can just feel at peace with life. It was a long week – work all day, volunteer at a pizza stand (raising money for the volunteer fire company) after work until 9-10 every night. My running, which was going SO well, had to be curbed indefinitely as we figure out what the heck happened with my hip. When I can’t work out, my head is fuzzy and I’m just not as happy. It’s like my drug.


In other news, Brad got a promotion. At 25 years old, he was promoted to Supervisor. Essentially, he’s in control of the campus, answering only to the Superintendant and one other employee. It’s awesome that he got such a great promotion at such a young age. It sucks that they’re changing his schedule and he’ll be working 2pm-10pm Sunday-Thursday. It’s almost the same schedule he was on when I first moved up here. The difference is, then I wasn’t working so I’d still see him all morning/early afternoon before he leaves. Now, I leave at 7:40 (before he would be waking up), come home for a 45 minute lunch (which I’ll be able to spend with him) and that’s all the interaction I will have with my husband. Him getting off work at 10:00 means he’s home between 10:30-11:00 (I’m in bed) and that’s on a good day. He can’t leave until the next shift supervisor comes on duty…so if that third shift supervisor calls out sick…he’s there until 6am. The other day he was on that shift and got home around 3:30am. If we had kids right now, I don’t know what we’d do.


I’m still trying to get back to Charlotte. I’ve applied for over 60 jobs (rejected for 25), but I think the fact that I’m out of state is working against me. I keep telling myself that something will come along eventually. In the meantime, since we lived off Brad’s salary before I took a job, everything I make is going into savings. So the longer we stay here, the more money that goes into savings. Can’t complain with that. I’m okay with staying until I graduate, it’s just hard because I’ve been so independent and had my own place before…and I don’t have that anymore. I’m dying to have “our” place where we can paint and do whatever we want. I’m still hoping to successfully defend my thesis in one semester and graduate in May. They say it’s rare to get through it in one semester, but I’ve already talked with my adviser and narrowed down a topic and started researching it. Next semester I’ll take Qualitative Research Methods and write my methods section. After that, it’s just the actual content analysis and literature reviews and the actual defense. And no, I’m not mixing it up with a dissertation. This program makes you defend your thesis in front of a panel. Not excited about it.


This wasn’t the most exciting blog entry ever, but some of the fuzz is lifting at least. Whew.

I love love.

Life's about to get a lot harder for us, but I think know we can get through it. No doubt.

We got this.

Best. Phrase. Ever.

"As soon as you get a job in Charlotte, we can pack up and go."


I've applied to over 40 jobs in the past month and a half. Not that I'm super excited about going back to Charlotte or anything :) If anyone has any good communication leads, let me know!!!

Bribing him with a boat if we move down there probably didn't hurt :)

Melting...

Brad and I won some money this weekend.

Last night the ice cream truck man came around. He stops at our house (okay, close to our house, it's not like we get ice cream every week!) before he continues down the road to where all the little kids live. Brad ran out last night to get some ice cream. He gave the driver way more than his ice cream cone was. He told the driver to give the little kids whatever they wanted that night.

Such a sweetie. It was like Christmas morning to those kids.

This is what I do with no grad school classes :)

Natalie Topper Designs - Sneak Peek!

Totally bragging on myself.

I'm sorry, but I just have to do it.

This semester was my craziest yet. I took a full-time load of classes in graduate school (against the policy and advice of the school) and accepted a full-time position as a project manager (which requires night and weekend work occasionally).

I just pulled out all A's.

Not A-'s, but solid A's.

These were not easy classes - if you could only see some of my assignments. Ridiculous ROCI calculators, 10 page papers on major crisis communication situations, etc. I worked my BUTT off, sometimes going from the time I got home from work (4:30) until 11 or 12 at night and getting up before work to do things.

Maybe I just thrive under pressure.

But I'm so glad that semester is over. One class per semester from here on out but these last three will be the hardest yet. Summer semester will be my final required core class, Fall will be Qualitative Research and next spring will be, dum dum dum, Thesis. ACK.

And just like that....miracles happen.

The power of prayer is incredible. Absolutely incredible.

Just goes to show you God's truly in control - not doctors and science.

You are the God who performs miracles;
you display your power among the people.
...Psalm 77:14

Oh, the thinking this brain does.

It’s so cliché, but I want to make a difference.

Brad and I had a date night last night and what started out as a lighthearted evening wound up with some serious topics.

A guy I went to high school with is basically in need of a miracle at this point. He was serving overseas, was injured and came home. Over the weekend he had a seizure and his wife couldn’t wake him up. The family has said they’re giving him back to God now.

I feel guilty for even feeling bad. He and I weren’t necessarily friends. I mean, obviously I knew who he was – the school was small enough we all pretty much knew each other. I didn’t even really know his brother, who was a year younger than me. I know his sister-in-law, who was good friends with my brother, but why is this upsetting me so?

Maybe it’s because he’s so young. Maybe because it seems so unfair. Maybe it’s because he was serving our country so I can continue to talk freely and worship freely. Maybe I hurt because so many of my friends are hurting right now.

As one of my friends on Facebook said yesterday, “If prayer volume alone is what dictated recovery, this guy would be healthy enough to be running a marathon.”

He’s lucky enough to have all these people care about him and pray for him and his family.

Not everyone does.

Brad works at essential a juvenile detention center. My first thoughts were, “hoodlums.” I feel so terrible thinking that now.

The majority of those kids have never had anything – or anyone who even cares about them. Family days are spent alone, with no one willing to make the trek to visit them. Or, if they do come visit, they bring contraband (ie, drugs) to try and smuggle in to them. If the only family you have is trying to help you get into MORE trouble – really, what kind of shot do you have in the world?

I know it’s impossible to save the world. But I wish I could figure out a way to save just one or two people. Let them know they’re cared about somehow.

Brad has gotten close to a kid occasionally. One in particular – before he was released, Brad told him repeatedly, if he needs anything, pick up the phone and call Brad. I worry about this kid all the time. He had incredible potential. His biggest problem was probably hyperactivity. If you kept him busy, he was fine. He could play the piano by ear. He was incredibly smart and quick on his feet. There had just never been anyone who recognized it before – they always saw his inability to focus and assumed he was a slacking troublemaker. Brad tried to rope in his focus into things he liked to do – and he flourished! But once these kids are released and they go back to their individual situations…it’s back to the same ‘ol, same ‘ol.

It makes my job seem so worthless. I’m not making the world a better place by doing budgets, invoicing, proofreading and overseeing tax projects.

I just want to make a difference one day.

Food for Thought

Sometimes I hear about situations and people are asking for prayers. Often it's a person who's sick or injured. I always try to pray for them, but it's hard to figure out what, exactly, to pray for.

Obviously, if I put myself in the shoes of a friend or family, I would want to pray that they pull through and everything is fine. But is that really what I should be praying for?

I've started trying to pray that God's will be done. If that person is supposed to heal and find their health again, then I pray they find the strength to do so. And if it's not in God's will, then I pray for the family and friends to have strength to get through the terrible situation.

In a way, I feel guilty about doing that. I know when they're asking for prayers - I know what they're asking for. They're asking for healing. But God already knows what's going to happen. Would I be offending Him by demanding that He heal a person He's ready to call for?

This thought process seemed more complex last night while I was praying, but still. Praying is so simple, yet so complicated.

Now that man makes me so crazy sometimes I could wring his neck!


You still love him, though.

God knows I do. And only He knows why.
 
...Sweet Home Alabama

Sometimes, you have discussions that are like looking at the sun...something you can only do glancingly because of the pain.

Just saying.

Osama bin laden is dead without proof of a body and people celebrate..... 


Jesus died and rose again with proof of his body and people speculate.

He's just saying.

It’s the little verses that get me.

It’s hard for me to understand people who say they don’t think God speaks to them. He does. We all go through times that are rough; sometimes for reasons we can’t even understand. For the past week, I’ve been praying for Him to lift my spirits and make my soul happy again. This morning, the verse beginning my devotion:

He restores my soul. Psalm 23:3

He does. He always reminds me along the way who’s really in charge here.

I try to pray each night, in bed, as I go to sleep. Sometimes I fall asleep while I’m praying. I used to feel guilty about it. Someone told me I didn’t take my prayer life seriously enough if I fell asleep while I was talking to God. I disagree.

Who better to fall asleep talking to? Don’t we remember those nights with our best friends, talking and giggling all night until we finally fell asleep? Do you never talk to your spouse in bed, late into the night?

I try to keep Him on my mind all day. But at night is when I feel like my soul is quiet. I can lay out everything that’s bothering me, all my struggles and worries. He restores my soul and I fall into a peaceful sleep. If I can’t sleep, I talk to him until I feel His peace wash over me.

So no, I don’t feel guilty if I fall asleep while praying. I don’t think there’s one “right” way to pray. I think this is how I best talk with God and you know what? I think He agrees.

And it's not over.

ugh.

Thinking Positively.

A couple of wonderful friends were inquiring how things were going today so here goes.

We find out tomorrow if it's finally over or if it's finally time for this lung surgery they've been threatening.

Hopefully it's over this time. No more medications, no more biopsies, no more CT scans. No more cancer talk.

The realization is...it could be over. Six months of this stress could be over.

Or...it could be another six-plus months of stress.

He got sick last November. I honestly didn't know if he was going to make it. 103 fever for over a week. Liver function kept deteriorating from the medicines we gave him to treat the fever. Nothing we or the doctors did worked. I was terrified, but couldn't show it because deep down...I think he was scared, too. His family was a mess. Doctor's visit after doctor's visit. CT scans. Spots on his lungs that they couldn't diagnose. They gave him an insane number of steroids to take - I had to wake up every 2 hours to make sure he was still breathing. How much sleep did I get?

He has a larger-than-life personality. A bundle of energy. He lost it all. He could barely move up and down stairs. Or get out of bed. I was emailing professors left and right, not knowing when I would actually be able to make it into class or get assignments completed. I'm so thankful they were understanding. It could've made life even worse.

Broncoscopy in early December. The day before my brother's wedding. A week before my finals for grad school were due. He insisted on going to Charlotte with me. As soon as he came out of recovery, I drove 8 hours to my brother's rehearsal dinner (missing the rehearsal) with him asleep in the passenger seat. Once we got there and I saw my family, I almost broke down. I realized I hadn't had anything but coffee all day. I shook for two hours straight from all the stress and caffeine. He fell asleep at my brother's wedding the next day. I'm lucky I had done well in my classes up until that point because my finals were a big heaping mess. I'm pretty sure the only reason I passed were that I had done really well through the semester and my professors felt sorry for me that I was going through everything.

The broncoscopy came back clean, but everything still wasn't right. The spots were still there. Threats of relapse.

Another CT scan in January. They said if his lungs weren't clean it'd most likely be automatic surgery to figure out what the problem is. This time the spots had reduced but the lymph node was still enlarged. The doctor gave us 3 choices. Surgery. Another biopsy. Wait it out 3 months and see what happens.

He wanted to wait it out. As much as this terrified me - what if it was cancer? We would have wasted 3 months of precious time we could've been working to treat it. But he - and his body - had been through so much the previous few months. I understood he was exhausted. We both were. I wound up with pneumonia not long after that.

This past year has truly pushed us "in sickness and in health." We've both had to be the ultimate caretakers for each other. I think it made us realize how lucky we each are to have each other.

That brings us to now. He had another CT scan on Wednesday. This time they injected dye in him so his lymph nodes will show more clearly. Here's to hoping and praying that tomorrow it'll finally be over. I don't want to see another lung specialist until we're both 95. Here's to hoping this weight finally gets lifted off my shoulders and this knot in my stomach finally unties.

Here's to hoping.

And the award goes to...

Best husband ever award...goes to Brad.

He had today off.

I went home for lunch to find spicy tuna and spicy salmon rolls waiting for me, fresh from Simply Asia.

I told him he was the best husband on earth.

I'm so easy to please :)

Thoughts on a Controversy

Killer's quest: Allow organ donation after execution

This is one of those situations that gnaw at me. I love them because they challenge my mind and I hate them because there's never a clear answer to be found. The controversy of it all. So many sides to take.

First, the side of the killer:
He committed a terrible act of violence. He wants to make things "right," as he says. Some might question if it can ever be perceived as "made right" but it's hard to fault someone who wants to save lives in exchange for his death. It's his body, but as a prisoner does he have rights to his body? He's got a point:

“Why go out and waste your organs when you have the potential to go out and save six to 12 lives?”

He's not asking to be saved from execution. He's asking to use his body to save someone else. It's not a new concept. Jodi Picoult wrote a book about this same matter. A death row inmate who wants to use his heart to save the sister of his victim's life. Now how hard would that be?

Second, the side of the state:
There's something that doesn't necessarily "feel" right about accepting organs from a convicted murderer. But - we make a lot of decisions based on feelings and maybe sometimes that's not the right way to look at things. The best point they made was:

I don’t think we want to be the kind of society that takes organs from prisoners,” said Dr. Paul R. Helft, director of the Charles Warren Fairbanks Center for Medical Ethics and Indiana University. "To do so would be to use unfree prisoners as a means to an end."


True. Very true. It could easily fall down a slippery slope with unscrupulous officials involved. However, to term it as "morally reprehensible;" well, now that I just don't accept.

I don't think he's trying to say that donating his organs will make everything right in the world. He said it would give him some peace, psychologically, but my hunch from reading the article is that he's not under an illusion that people would forgive him 100%.

Finally, the side of the potential recipients:
How many people would complain about taking a heart - any heart - if it means saving the life of a loved one? For every patient who would potentially turn the organ down, I'm guessing there's hundreds more who would snatch it in a heartbeat (no pun intended). There have been the occasional reports of someone finding some connection between their new organ and their donor but as far as I know, no official research has been done on the subject.
 
Another point that bothers me:
“It’s impossible to be sure that a person who is behind bars is making a decision they would make while walking down the street,” says Jeffrey Orlowski, executive director of the Association of Organ Procurement Organizations, the non-profit group that represents the nation’s 58 regional groups.
 

It's not impossible to be sure. I am an organ donor, it's plastered on my driver's license for all to see. I walk down the street every day (no, seriously, I walk to work every day!). If, heaven forbid, I were to wind up in jail one day - are they trying to say that I suddenly don't know what decision I'm making?

Granted, there might not be a lot of people in the prison system who had proclaimed themselves organ donors before they were sent to jail. But I would be willing to bet there are some.

Then, they go on to mention that if he were to die of natural causes, he would be much more likely to have his wishes carried out. Medically, that makes sense. But how is that more ethical? He's still a prisoner.

Either way, it's questionable whether or not the organs would be able to "survive" the lethal injection. I mean, when the point of the drugs are to stop your heart, how are you going to harvest it to save someone else? I'm no doctor, but that seems like a hard point to wrap my head around. However, if it is the drugs that would keep the donations from happening - why not say so? Wouldn't that virtually end the controversy?

In all likelihood, his organs won't be donated. It's good to open this sort of subject for discussion, though. It's controversies that make people squirm (myself included) that are the most intriguing to me and contribute to making changes in the world.

Uh-Oh

I spent yesterday evening hanging out with a new man in my life. His name is Ethan James and I'm pretty much in love. He's adorable, sweet...and turned 1 week old this morning at 4:34am.

I've *never* had baby fever before. Ever. I've *never* held a baby that small before. But oh my goodness, I did not want to leave that sweetness. I told his mother and father that I am up for babysitting ANY time!

I looked at Brad and just said, "I want one."

But....I know it's not a good time. I want to finish grad school. Three classes left. That's it. I want to get settled into a house - wherever it is we're going to settle ourselves. I don't want to buy a house and upgrade when we have kids. I want our house to be *the* house we raise our kids in.

Ahhhh. I want one.

In other news, my Momma CALLED me yesterday! I was quite excited since I wasn't expecting to hear from her until today or Friday at the earliest. Everything is going wonderfully - she was able to eat chicken broth, a popsicle and tea yesterday. The doctor said she might be able to eat regular food and go home on Friday, which is the earliest she could possibly leave the hospital with the surgery she had.

In other other news, Brad's grandmother has massive pneumonia. They told her if she hadn't gotten to the hospital Tuesday afternoon, she wouldn't have made it through the night. She's doing much better now, but it's scary to think how close she came.

So much to be thankful for lately.

My mom's having major surgery today. Asking for prayers if you pray, thoughts if you don't.

Edit: They've now taken Brad's grandmother to the hospital. Brad's with her now, but I'm still waiting to hear from both my Dad to see how Momma's surgery went and Brad to see what's going on with his grandmother...

Insanity.

My mom is having surgery tomorrow. Once she gets back on her feet, I wanted to have a Wendy's gift card waiting for her so she could go get herself a Frosty! Since I'm at work and not Wendy's, I went to their website to see if I could print off a Frosty's certificate or a gift card or something. I figured a $5 gift card would buy her about 4.75 frosty's. What welcomed me at the end....

Item Value Quantity Total



Wendy's Frosty Fa La La La La Card $5.00 1 $5.00


Shipping & Handling $9.50


Current Purchase Total: $14.50

Uhhhh, I don't THINK so.
 
Nice try, Wendy's. Pretty sure it doesn't cost $9.50 to send a GIFT CARD.
 
Forget ya'll. Just saying.

Just Sayin. Thank God.

For every stoplight I didn't make



Every chance I did or I didn't take


All the nights I went too far


All the guys that broke my heart


All the doors that I had to close


All the things I knew but I didn't know


Thank God for all I missed


'Cause it led me here to this.

Looking at pictures from my phone makes me happy :)

Shelter/abandoned animals really do make the best pets. We had a pet we paid hundreds of dollars for once and while I loved her dearly - she just didn't appreciate her life the way the others have. They really do know when you've rescued them from a bad situation.

Chloe was abused before we got her. She was all skittish and terrified of people - men in particular. The slightest noise or movement would send her running in fear to the nearest dark corner.

A year later, she's come so far I can't even believe it. She warmed up to my parents within two hours of them being here. By the end of the day, she was curled up fast asleep with my mom. She recognizes Tabetha as soon as she walks in the door.

I look at her all curled up at night under blankets with Brad and I and just wonder if she ever thinks about her old life. How she spent the first year of her life huddled outside in an outdoor kennel during the blizzards. How she barely had any food and had never been to a vet. I see this look of content on her face that just makes me melt inside.

She looks like such a little kangaroo!

She's a completely different dog than she was a year ago. I saw this dog in her a year ago, but she didn't have enough confidence in herself to let anyone in.

It's harder with Roxy. She's been such a happy dog from the beginning. I doubt she's had any hardship in her life other than she was either abandoned or separated from her original family. I searched for months after we got her, sure that a family was out there looking for her. As attached as I was to her by that point, I knew if someone found my dogs...I would do anything to get them back. But I never found anything.

I didn't think we would see much difference in Roxy in the first year. She's always loved people. Our biggest hurdle with her was obedience and getting her to like other dogs again (but according to the kennel, she only gets mean with other dogs when we're around. When we're gone, she's fine with other dogs so maybe it's a protection thing). But I have seen a difference. She is absolutely the most goofy, playful animal I have ever met. I'll find her in the hallway by herself, barking and chasing herself (not her tail, just herself). I'll find her on the bed, turning somersaults by herself. She'll bark at Chloe then run away when she wants her to play. This dog never has a bad day. She's never sad. She's just a bundle of energy and a 50 pound dog who thinks she's a lap dog. Even when she does something wrong (like chew through the wall!!) it's impossible to stay mad at that face that's always "smiling".

We have no idea what kind of dogs they are. We can't buy those stickers that say, "I love my Labrador." But I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. I'm a mutt lover for life. For less than $200 we got to bring home two of the most loving (fixed) animals and their first vet visit free.

Don't go to a shelter unless you're serious about getting a pet. I can't go in anymore because I just want to bring them all home with me. I can't imagine my life without these two anymore.

Whole lot of randomness.

Where am I going with my life?

Some days I work so hard to figure that out, other days I feel like my life will forever be an open book with constantly flipping chapters.

Is that so bad? To flip chapters constantly, that is. I've always been one to be bored easily. That's why I wound up with Brad. He was the first guy I met who could keep me on my toes. He's always ready to try something new, go somewhere different. He didn't treat me like a queen. He treated me as his equal.

I didn't want to move to Maryland. I still don't want to stay here forever. But where to next? Do we head back to Charlotte? Maybe. Do we head to Florida? It's a possibility. So many people say that when you get married, you're "settling down." I don't feel settled down. Then there's other people who say when you get married you give up a sense of spontenaity, your ability to just up and move whenever and wherever. I disagree. We're considering that move. We're seriously considering moving 17 hours away. Just because we liked it there on vacation.

Is that really so crazy? We're young, as long as we find jobs we have nothing to hold us back from it. We don't have a mortgage, we won't have to sell a house. We don't have a kid or plans to have one soon.

Everyone talks about Florida as a place to go for retirement. Why wait? If it's paradise, then why wait until you're old to enjoy it? If I think our quality of life will be happier there, why not?

What if we don't like it? Okay. We move. Worst case scenario.

I am 3 classes away from finishing my master's. I found my dream job in Charlotte. It's definitely a long shot, but then again...so was Johns Hopkins as a graduate school. Look at me now. If all keeps going well, next May I will walk away with a master's degree from a graduate program ranked #32  in the country. If you'd told me that 2 years ago, I would've never believed you. I'm not *that girl*.

Shoot high, reach for the moon. Who cares if I fail? I'm not afraid of failing anymore. I have my husband, my family and friends to catch me if I fall. It's not me against the world anymore. I'm in a secure place in my life, even if I feel like it's a constant flipping of the pages.

Failure is life. Life is not perfect. I'm not perfect. I fight with my husband. But I love my husband. My friends annoy me. But I still love my friends. My family frustrates me or makes me sad sometimes. But I do the same to them. I'm not concerned with putting on this facade of perfection. It's not me. That kind of pressure put me in a bad place in my life years ago. A place I'm not interested in returning to.

Why do I let other people's lives bother me so much? When I see someone doing something stupid, I want to shake them and ask them, "WHAT PART OF THIS DID YOU THINK WAS A GOOD IDEA???" A few years ago, I would've called them out. Now? They're big kids. If they want to screw their lives up...it's really none of my concern. As much as I wish I could make them listen to reason...I can't. You can't tell someone things they don't want to hear. It just doesn't work.

I'm not afraid of failure. I'm not even afraid of disappointing anymore. I think I'm afraid of settling for less than I should.

I'm thankful for my husband, who encourages me to pursue my passions as opposed to a salary. I'm thankful that he recognizes talents I have, even when I don't see them. He sees the joy I have when I do certain things "just for fun" and he encourages me to pursue them. I got a top of the line digital camera for Christmas this year and a telephoto zoom lens for my birthday. Just because he thinks I take good pictures and knows how much I love taking them and then putting them into graphic design creations. I had no idea a camera was coming. It had never even been discussed. He saw my passion that I didn't even see and wanted to encourage it. He wants me to look into selling my pictures at local festivals. He wants me to spend more time doing these things that I love. It's something he didn't have to encourage.

My life is good. My husband loves me. My family loves me. My friends love me. I'm doing well in school and the end is in sight. I have a good job that will give me great experience in whatever my next phase in life will be. I have the two most adorable, loving pups on the face of the planet.

I have no idea how life could be much better.

Unless we were living in Florida and I was laying by the pool with a glass of wine in my hand.

I'm just saying.

Congratulations!

Today makes the second time this month that someone has congratulated me on my pregnancy.

The first time was a lady who I had never seen or met before in my life, saying she heard the news at a bridal shower.

The second time was a girl from graduate school who emailed me, excited for the news.

But...I'm not pregnant. I'm just saying.

I have no idea who the first lady was talking about. The second girl...she emailed the wrong Natalie (whew). She asked if she freaked me out and I emailed her back...

"Surprisingly enough, you aren't the first person this month to congratulate me on this non-pregnancy...not sure what all this means!"

Not ready for that yet. We need to figure out where we are going to settle down. I want my Master's done and need to decide if I'm finished with school after that or heading on for the Ph.D (Brad's worst nightmare haha).

No babies here. Check back next year. We'll at least discuss it then.

Seriously?

As of today, I'm officially on spring break.

Why bother giving us a spring break? Especially if I'm going to be doing MORE homework during it than normal:

- Midterm due
- 3-5 page paper due
- Final capstone paper (5-7 pages)
- Marketing Plan (15-20 pages)
- 10 page paper
- 65-75 final paper draft due (it's part of a team, but still, my part is going to need to be at least 12-15 pages)

It's impossible to get ahead! I seriously come straight home from work and go to my office. I stay there, planted in my seat until 9 or 10 at night...or later! TV? What's that? Husband? Who's that?

I cannot WAIT until next semester. It might be my hardest class yet but at least it's the only one I have to concentrate on!

Cruise 2011

I'm warning you. This is long. VERY long. But it's my journal so you can go ahead and deal with it :)

Day 1: Thursday, February 24

Woke up early to take the dogs to the kennel. I was sooo sad, but at least I managed to keep from crying this time. Went back to our house until around 11:30 when Michael & Tab came to pick us up to take us to his parents’ house. Around noon the limo arrived (Michael and Brad gave their mom a hard time for hiring a WHITE limo instead of a much classier BLACK limo haha).

(His mom has pictures of us actually getting into the limo, but this is all I have - see the snow outside??) It’s important to note here that I had expectations to knock a few things off of my bucket list. Riding in a limo is one of them. Yes, that’s right. I am 27 years old and had never ridden in a limo. Where I’m from, we had two limos in the county and that meant they had 3 windows in the town car instead of 2. They were pathetic. Nobody went to prom in a limo (c’mon, our prom was in our high school gymnasium, ok?). We left our wedding being chauffered by my husband’s aunt & uncle in their Durango (which actually ended up being a highlight of the entire day. They were adorably sweet). So anyways, the things I thought I might be knocking off were:

-      1)  Ride in a limo

-        2) Sing karaoke

-        3) Jump off a waterfall somewhere exotic

-        4) Stay out all night and watch the sun come up

-        5) Visit an active volcano (this has been debated, we visited a volcano in St. Lucia on our honeymoon, but I was thinking more of looking inside the crater, which we didn’t do there).

Tab and I open a bottle of sparkling wine, which is finished less than 20 minutes into the trip (with some help from Sue). We get to the airport, get through security and the first of many infamous “red bag” situations occur. Brad went through security first, then me, then the rest of the family. Brad and I grab our bags and head down the terminal a little to get away from the madness right outside of security. About 5 minutes later the rest of his family walk up, watching me closely. Finally someone asks if I’m missing something. Whoops, left my red bag sitting there in security! Didn’t even notice it was gone!

We all enjoy quick drinks in the bar before we head out to Orlando for our layover. We were almost through the flight when the pilot comes up and tells us to look out the left windows (yesssss, I had a window seat!). He tells us that the space shuttle from Cape Canaveral is getting ready to take off. Sure enough, we watch, as far in the distance a small object with fire underneath north like a firework. We couldn’t get to my camera quick enough to get the shuttle with flames shooting out from the bottom, but we did get the trail of smoke it left behind. Definitely one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities that was pretty stinking cool!

In Orlando we eat dinner at Chili’s and I learn that Orlando’s airport is ridiculously huge. I’ve heard you often have to take shuttles at Dulles but I’ve never actually had to take one. Orlando has these little “metro”-type things that take you from terminal to terminal and even outside. I felt like I was at Disney World or something.

We finally get to Puerto Rico and then to our hotel about 1am local time. The hotel we’re staying at is right in the heart of Old San Juan but nothing’s really open at 1am on a Thursday night. The hotel clerk seriously keeps us waiting for 20 minutes while he’s on the phone. There should never be a line of 15 people waiting to check into a hotel at 1am. Just saying. We finally get into our rooms and then head down to the casino for a few minutes of gambling before the casino closes. I proceed to break the first slot machine I play which leads to me having to stand there for another 20 minutes while managers have to come and eventually give me a credit for another dollar. I also had my first language barrier incident as the guy who came to fix the machine spoke no English, yet wanted me to tell him exactly what happened (it wasn’t difficult, I put my dollar in, pulled the lever yet nothing happened). I eventually walked away with $6 (having put $5 in). So I was $1 up a few hours into the trip. Woohoo for me!

Day 2: Friday, February 25: San Juan, Puerto Rico

A few hours later, we woke up to take our bags over to the ship, Celebrity Millennium. It was a lot of waiting but eventually we got on board and were able to grab a quick bite to eat before heading back into San Juan for the afternoon. It was kind of weird, to be taking a taxi away from the cruise ship with all the people coming into the port, but whatever. We walked around the city for a little while before finding a nice outdoor café to have some drinks in. After we finished a few drinks we headed back to the  cruise ship.

Going forward, I’m not going to talk much about the ship experiences with the exception of this paragraph. Overall, the ship kind of sucked. I’ve only been on one other cruise before (Costa) and it was loads better than Celebrity…which was funny, because all Celebrity did was talk about how they were “number one.” Yeah, maybe 10 years ago. They very obviously catered to the older crowd. And by older, I’m talking like 70’s+. All the lounges played the same music every night (depending on the lounge): waltz, salsa, 40’s-70’s and Latin music. Even the one nightclub they had on board played the same “old” music every night. It’s like they didn’t notice that after 11pm, no one stayed in there. The staff, for the most part, were snotty and rude. Our toilet did not work well – one of the room attendants actually showed us how to BANG on the button to make it flush. C’mon now. Seriously?

Anyways. On to the islands, which is the best part of the cruise anyway!

Saturday, February 26: Tortola, BVI

We are docked at Tortola, a British Virgin Island. This island was fun because nobody except Tabetha had been there before. Brad’s family has traveled a lot so having a stop at a place they’ve never been is rare. We took a quick tour in a taxi, taking us through a lot of scenic overlooks and this one bar that is just incredible. Before we arrived, our driver warned us that if anyone were to offer us mushroom soup on this trip, to decline them. Good advice, considering I love mushrooms and would probably have taken some! Once we pulled up to the bar, you can see why mushroom soup comes with a warning label. Underwear is nailed EVERYWHERE! I loved the bar – it was overlooking beautiful beaches, the floor was nothing but sand and the building itself was basically just a bunch of boards nailed together haphazardly.

Our driver dropped us off at a beach to hang out for a few hours. It was pretty quiet with a makeshift bar right beside where we were sitting (2 for $5 mixed drink specials, always a good thing to have close by!). I took a lot of pictures with my new camera since it was the first beach. 

The water felt cold, which was weird considering when we left Maryland, there was snow on the ground. Anything should have felt like a hot tub after that!

Sunday, February 27: St. Maarten

For the most part on this cruise, I just went along with what everyone else wanted to do. St. Maarten, however, I was on a mission. I wanted to go to Orient Beach. I wanted to be able to say that yes, I have been to a nude beach. Well. Let me just tell you. I have now seen more naked people than I will ever again see in my life. And I doubt that any of them were a day younger than 65. And I doubt any of them have seen a shirt or pants in several months. It was just sooooo weird to sit there and watch old ladies with their boobies hanging down talk to men with their manhood just right there in their face. Whoa, cultural difference! We walked down to the end of the beach and back and I’m pretty sure we were given lots of weird looks because we WERE clothed. Oh well. I’ve been to a nude beach. I guess next on the list is actually taking clothes off? Nottttt so much! (Don't worry, there are no nude pictures to follow)

We also found one of the coolest dogs ever. Roxy and Chloe almost got a new sibling. 

Also, I found it interesting that they had a huge memorial to Ta Ta The Bus Driver. I'd love to know the backstory on that. Might have to Google that one day. 

After a few hours there we went back to the main beach beside the cruise ship. It was more commercialized but everyone had clothes on there. Every island we visited, the water got a little more crystal clear and a little more turquoise. Michael got a supposed 15 minute foot massage by a local lady which turned into 45 minutes, especially after I bought her a beer. You’ll see on this cruise, we negotiated a lot of things with food. It’s amazing how so many of the islanders will drop prices if you offer a beer and food. My kind of lifestyle.

Cannonballllllll!

Getting the food massage!

Monday, February 28: St. Lucia

Ahh, it was SO nice to be back in St. Lucia. Other than San Juan, this was the only place on this cruise that I had been previously – on our honeymoon. Brad took charge of this island. Before we left for the cruise, I had emailed a girl we met on our honeymoon – Sarah – and asked her for the name and number of a taxi driver the 4 of us had used on that trip. He was phenomenal, taking us to local spots and then keeping an eye on us there to make sure not-nice people left us alone. We got off the ship that morning and one of the taxi drivers standing there knew the guy. He called the number, only to get a female voice. Apparently our fantastic taxi driver had gotten drunk in a bar the night before and left his phone in the bar. Sooo we got to find a new favorite taxi driver. The drive from Castries to Soufries was long and windy. I think his family was starting to get a little cranky from the drive. 

It probably took about an hour and a half and we saw a lot of destruction from a hurricane that came through last October (thank goodness it didn’t come through the October WE were there!) Finally, we got to Jalousie. Since we had our honeymoon there (they’re probably assuming we’ll come back again one day), they let us drive all the way down to the beach. In St. Lucia, you see, all the beaches are public. You can find the most expensive, most exclusive beach on the island and they HAVE to let you on their beach. They can keep you from using their facilities (chairs, bathrooms, etc) and they can ask you to stay on a certain section of the beach, but they can’t tell you NOT to be there.

Once we got down to the beach, Brad found Desmond, a local who is at Jalousie’s beach every morning, like clockwork. He has a water taxi and we used it a few times on our honeymoon. He’s just a good ‘ol Bob Marley-loving island guy. We trusted him and his ability to drive the boat (and by boat we mean a very basic carved-out thing) so he negotiated a price to get us back to Castries via water taxi instead of regular car again. Our other taxi driver was nice enough to go to the beach with us to make sure Desmond was there – just in case we would need him to drive us back in a few hours. Since we didn’t, we bought him lunch and a beer and he was a happy camper.

We enjoyed the beach there for a few hours – when we were there before, they were remodeling some parts of the resort so it was fun to see the final product. We went snorkeling and just reminisced about our first week as a married couple J

After awhile, we got on Desmond’s water taxi and we headed to Marigot Bay. Sue and Tabetha had a BLAST on that. It really is like a roller coaster ride. The way the locals drive (both on the road and water), you’re half worried for your life and half just wanting to embrace the local way. The water got a little choppy so there were some major ups and downs but it was still a lot of fun. We stopped for lunch in Marigot Bay, which is where we had lunch on our honeymoon once too. This time, however, we went to a different place, instead of Doolittle’s (Eddie Murphy’s bar). 

(See the cat hidden above the bar?)

A terrible picture of the dog we befriended on this island

We bought Desmond and his son lunch and a beer (I told you that’s how we roll). Finally we headed back to Castries. The water taxi takes about 45 minutes total but it can be quite a bumpy ride. I think most of us were sore the next day!

I took a Russian couple's picture so they took ours!

Tuesday, March 1: Barbados

I’m going to tell you upfront: Barbados was not my favorite island. It was, hands down, my least favorite. Not because of what we did – we did some pretty fun things. Just the island in general. They. Have. SO. Many. Rules!!!!! You can’t smoke. You have to have a shirt on while in the car (which, if you’re coming from the beach, you might be a little damp!). You can’t wear camouflage. You’re charged for EVERYTHING. When we rented chairs at the beach, we had to wear wristbands to prove we paid for them. When we went to the bar & grill on the beach for lunch, we had to pay to get into the restaurant and wear ANOTHER wristband. Don’t go to Barbados expecting to get a tan on your arms. You won’t have room left by the time you spend a few days.

Brad’s family had been there before and had rented a catamaran. His mom had called this guy before and asked to rent the boat out again. THAT was fun! He took us to a few snorkeling spots – first was to swim with sea turtles. I was excited, and I actually got to pet one when it went right by me! It was crowded, because a  lot of the cruise ship excursions were there too, though. Then he took us to a place that had a few shipwrecks. At the time, I thought the snorkeling was the best ever. Little did I know what awaited me later in the cruise!

After that, we sailed through the Caribbean for a little while. Tab and I “surfed” – if you’ve ever been on a catamaran, they usually have a rubbery-type of surface at the front. We stood on it and attempted to stay upright. I had fun, especially since this catamaran provided free drinks and we’d had a few rum punches at that point!

Eventually the captain took us back and drove us to a local beach where we got the aforementioned wristbands. When we got hungry, we headed over to the bar and grill, as I mentioned, where they charged us $10 for yet another wristband. It was complicated, though. It was one price if you were on a cruise ship (which we were, but they didn’t know that) and another price if you were staying on the island. We knew one of the names of a local hotel so we just told them we were staying there. Then they gave us each a $10 credit on food. So we paid $10 for the wristband but then got $10 in free food at their restaurant. Made no sense to me, but whatever. It also gave us access to their dock, which had a rope swing over the water and some “toys” in the water – a few water trampolines and a floating iceberg climbing wall.

I always tried to make sure I tried the local beer!

But didn't stray much from the tropical drinks...they use a lot of nutmeg as a garnish!

So all in all, it was a great day, but I just didn’t like Barbados. Nothing was ever simple there.

Wednesday, March 2: Grenada

I loved this island. It was just beautiful. There was a lot of poverty, but you see that on most of the Caribbean islands. We got a taxi driver and went to a waterfall that locals jump off of (I was soooo hoping this was going to be another bucket list crossed off but alas. A litttttttttle too high for me!). On the way, the taxi driver stopped at a spice store and showed us a lot of spices that are native to Grenada. I got some cocoa balls that you just drop into hot water for hot chocolate.

This is where stuff started getting pretty and I started getting picture-happy!

The waterfall I considered jumping off of...but...eh.

Everything about Grenada was beautiful. The overlooks were beautiful, the waterfall was beautiful and the people were extremely nice. It wasn’t as commercialized as some of the other Caribbean islands but it still had a sense of stability.

Prisoners

The beach we went to in Grenada knew what was up – a free beach chair rental came with every mixed drink you bought. Easy enough. 6 mixed drinks, 6 chairs. Done! We did a lot of nothing on this island. This was our last island before our first sea day and I think we were all pretty exhausted. We’d been getting up before 7am and staying up until after midnight (in hopes of some decent music, but we were usually sorely disappointed).

Brad brought his hammock along and actually fell asleep in the shade on the beach. I went over to take some pictures of him and one of the locals selling things on the beach found him pretty entertaining.

There was another local who was playing guitar on the beach – I swear to you, he is Flavor Flav’s long lost twin brother. He was hysterical. He just made up lyrics on the spot about everyone, singing them. He kept telling us to get up and play, don’t waste the day, get up and do something. At one point, he had a whole flock of people dancing around him.

Our favorite pup on this island!

Thursday, March 3: Sea Day

Not much goes on during sea days except excessive eating, drinking and sun time. I was disappointed in this ship because there was only one outdoor pool area with two relatively tiny pools. There were also 4 hot tubs but I wasn’t about to get in a hot tub when it was sunny and 85 degrees out. Then they closed the hot tubs at 8, which meant there was no nighttime dips (when the hot tub would have actually been enjoyable). Whoops, I’m going into how crappy the ship was again.

At this point in the cruise, we had made friends with a bartender named O’Brien (or so we thought that’s what his name was). He was from Jamaica and fantastic.

A few days into the cruise, he knew exactly what drink the boys and Sue wanted each night and had them ready as soon as he saw them walk in. Tabetha and I were quite adventurous in our drink choices so he always had to ask us what we were in the mood for. Typically before dinner we went for a Cosmo or red wine.

A few nights he surprised us – when we asked for a glass of red wine (we usually chose one of the cheaper red wines), he brought us glasses of the ship’s expensive red wine. One he brought out he said was the best red wine they had on the ship (obviously, we had no way to know if he was telling the truth, but it WAS pretty dang good!)

We’d had an interesting dinnertime dynamic. Our head waiter, Lynn, was very nice but very proper. We usually had a few drinks before dinner and were pretty talkative and had a lot of laughs. He tried, but he didn’t quite get us. He seemed a bit “off” too, although we never could quite put our finger on it. We often didn’t get the meals we asked for, or we’d not get things we ordered altogether. In his defense, we were pretty difficult. Tabetha and I alone would typically order 2-3 appetizers each, 1-2 soups and/or salads, 1-2 entrees and 1-2 desserts for each meal. But my theory is, we’re paying for unlimited food. They serve food on a cruise ship that I would NEVER pay for myself without knowing for sure if I liked it – it’s how I learned I liked escargot on my last cruise. If I didn’t like something, it wasn’t a big deal and I had plenty of other things to choose from. Our assistant waiter, Robert, was awesome. He was from Dominica and was just so cute. He had kind of a higher pitched voice and, as it became the joke for the week, sounded like he was just about to say “PEEKABOO” with every sentence. He was super sweet.

Halfway through the week, Lynn came to our table. Usually, he gave us menus, then came back and gave us his recommendations for the evening and then came to take our order. This night, however, he started guessing what we were all going to order. But he didn’t get it right at allllllll. We kind of wondered if he was drunk. Then he never came back to take our order. We flagged Robert down, who took our order. Finally the Maitre ‘d came over and said Lynn was sick and that another head waiter would be taking care of us. Robert had told us earlier in the week that he was hoping for a head waiter position on the next ship so we told the Maitre d’ that Robert had already taken care of us and we were pretty sure he could handle it. So Robert took care of us that night (something we spoke highly of during the comment cards). The next night they introduced us to Oscar, our new head waiter who was hysterical. Just up our alley.  Everything was followed with “Fantastico!” or “Excellente!”.

-        “I’d like the shrimp cocktail…”

-        “Fantastico!”

-        “And the salmon balls…”

-        “Excellente!”

-        “And the Caesar salad…”

-        “Fantastico!”

-        “And the mushroom truffle soup…”

-        “Excellente!”

-        “And the lobster ravioli…”

-        “Fantastico!”

-        “And the grilled mahi-mahi…”

-        “Excellente!”

But he was fun J He did some fun magic tricks for us. I think the tables around us were jealous because we were having so much fun with the staff. They are all very stiff until they figure out if they can joke around with you or not. Robert and Oscar figured out they could have fun with us so it made us the entertaining table. I’m sure most of the tables were thinking “stupid Americans” inside their head, but oh well. We had fun. 

Oscar, with our Baked Alaska

Robert and Oscar

Friday, March 4: Aruba

Maybe my expectations for Aruba were too high. I’d just always heard so much about it – and the pictures I had seen were always just so beautiful. Don’t get me wrong, Aruba WAS beautiful…but crowded. All the beaches were jam-packed by noon which meant the water was jam-packed.

Obviously this picture was taken in the morning

Again, a local beer

I had gotten a lot of sun the day before so I pretty much stayed in the shade most of the day. I was proud of myself for not getting burned on this trip – I got pretty tan, but no burning or peeling. Brad and I took a walk on the beach and then across the road to a resort for lunch but those were the most exciting things that happened. We saw the group of girls from the cruise that we had nicknamed “Mean Girls” at the resort. It was a group of 4-5 girls who thought they were hot stuff. They weren’t old enough to drink and they walked around like they were God’s gift to men. They hated Tab and I because Brad and Michael were by far the only young guys on the ship…and they were obviously taken. The name “Mean Girls” came because their leader was a redhead who vaguely resembled Lindsay Lohan, although she definitely had more than a few pounds on her.

Also notable in Aruba was the older lady at the umbrella beside us. She fell asleep at some point in the afternoon on her side. Somewhere along the way, half of it slid out and she slept for a few hours with one boob hanging out. Have I mentioned I have never seen so many naked people as I did on this trip?

Saturday, March 5: Curacao

Our last stop. Paradise. By far, far, far my favorite. I really didn’t think any tropical place would compare to St. Lucia. I’ve now been to Cozumel, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, Tortola, St. Maarten, St. Lucia, Barbados, Grenada and Aruba. Curacao is by FAR the most beautiful place I have ever seen. The town was beautiful – the streets were lined with homes and businesses that were painted these bright, beautiful Caribbean colors. The downtown area was lively and the coolest thing was the floating bridge linking one side of the canal to the other. A lot of ships come through the canal so when a boat comes through, this floating bridge (which is stationary on one side) floats parallel to one side of the canal. I know this sounds weird and it's hard to describe. But we were there when they were letting a boat through and watched the bridge go from being straight across the canal to along one side. There's a free ferry that will take you across if you can't wait for the bridge to come back up. The beaches were absolutely pristine and the waters the clearest I’ve ever seen. I could go on forever, so I’ll back up a little.

We asked the taxi driver to go to the Curacao Liquor Factory first and then to the best beach he knew of. The liquor factor was fun, but probably would have been more fun if it hadn’t been 9am after a long night of drinking. I managed to have a sip of the chocolate liquor but that’s as far as I made it. He also showed us this substance that comes from the factory that is pretty much their “one-stop-fits-all cure-for-all”. Arthritis? Spray this on there. Hungover? Spray this on there. Run out of aftershave? Spray this on there. Seriously. It was kind of weird, but entertaining at least.

Our super-sweet Astro. Our cabbie said it was 2011 special edition haha

Then we headed to the beach. We were starting to wonder where exactly he was taking us. It seemed like we had been driving forever through this random part of the island that seemed remote. We saw a huge iguana on the way and a ton of flamingos. 

He got away!

Finally, we made it to the beach and I just cannot even express how amazing it was. The best way for me to describe it is in pictures.

Mouth open, ready to swallow!

Bon voyage!

Last few notes:

- I attempted karaoke on the last night. Whether they just didn't like us or what...but they ended up not letting us go. Tab and I signed up to do Sweet Home Alabama. O'Brien went up a few times to try to get us done sooner and he kept saying everything was good to go. Well, the last person finally went and it wasn't us. The guy finally came over and said our song wasn't registered by the machine...so he didn't bother to tell us or anything, he just let us sit there. While they let other people do multiple goes at it. Just another little reason why Celebrity stunk. He apologized, but not before Brad's parents let him have it on how rude they'd been all week just because we weren't 80.

- I forgot my red bag as we were leaving our staterooms. I had my stuff out in the hall and we were waiting on Michael and Tabetha. I started walking and walked right out without the red bag. There was at least one other time in the trip that I forgot my red bag but I can't remember when. I think it was on the way to Puerto Rico on the first day. But that's why for the rest of the trip everyone always asked about the red bag.

- I learned to salsa on salsa night.