Thug Style Seems to Work

Classes start the 2nd week of January, 2015, but God has already taken me to task and is preparing me for my journey.

The first validation came in the form of a rare and challenging moment. It was in the midst of my attempting to acquire seats on a flight after having paid $1,100.00 for airline tickets to Roanoke, VA. Being a software developer, I understand systems go down at routine intervals for maintenance and such, thereby leaving websites unavailable to provide services. I also appreciate the alternative option of picking up the phone and calling the number provided in order to finish my transaction and ensure a product with which I will be satisfied, namely, a flight with assigned seats which will allow me to travel beside my companion and love of my life.

This was my ordeal while attempting to access the telephone version of whatever system assigns seats at this particular airline:

Airline recording: Please state your confirmation number using words in place of letters, such as C as in Charlie or P as in Paul. 

Diane: G as in God, B as in Boy, D as in Dog, K as in Kelly, 2, 5. 

Airline recording: I'm sorry, your answer is confusing. Many words sound the same. Please distinguish your letters and remember, C as in Charlie or P as in Paul. Please state your confirmation number. 

Diane: G as in Good, B as in Boy, D as in door, K as in Kellogg's Frosted Flakes, 2, 5. 

Airline recording: I'm sorry, your answer is confusing. Many words sound the same. Please distinguish your letters and remember, C as in Charlie or P as in Paul. Please state your confirmation number. 

Diane: How about F*** OFF?!!!! 

Airline recording: One moment while we transfer you to someone who can further assist you.

Further assist? You haven't assisted me AT ALL. You've only managed to waste my damn time!


THIS is why I chose the Communications Program...in the name of progress, of course. It's in my purpose statement, I promise. :)

Do you find this form of open-ended communications a waste of time? When is it appropriate to provide some human intervention?

If you enjoyed this article and would like to receive future articles in your inbox --- Subscribe to our free newsletter

Things Got Ugly at PCB

We're in Panama City Beach this week, so if I missed posting anything for you, you now know why! Actually, I felt an urge to share something with you. Knowing I love to break rules whenever I have the chance, I thought you might enjoy my latest display of rebel awesomeness.

These were my own empties. Multiple rules were broken on this evening.

1. Alcoholic beverages were consumed in the spa
2. Motrin for our aching backs were consumed before entering the spa
3. No adult supervision existed for the lot of us
4. We did not seek consultation from our respective doctors as they were not available

Then we made it out to Coyote Ugly where most of us rode the mechanical bull. I didn't make it onto the bull, mainly because I didn't want to make a fool of myself. I discovered the next morning, I'd found myself on the bar instead. So much for making of the fool.

Here's my son Cameron's attempt at mastering the beast. Sorry, but I have confiscated and destroyed all videos pertaining to the bar.

If you enjoyed this article and would like to receive future articles in your inbox --- Subscribe to our free newsletter

My Grandson Meme - Caption Contest!

This is our grandson, Levi. My stepson Timmy and his wife Kelly brought Levi with them on a visit to Tallahassee. We had a wonderful time showing them around and we even took Levi on his first boat ride ever!

Here he is, on the boat with Mommy and ready for some action. He's always pointing with the one finger and we couldn't understand what it meant. But will you look at the expression on his face?

I've decided to create a meme and capture the moment. This is what I think is being conveyed here.

Please join me for this caption contest. Simply provide yours in the comments below. The prize? An opportunity to post about your work in progress, an upcoming release, or a guest article here at Are We There Yet? I know, I know! Don't get all excited there. [insert sarcastic emoticon here]

If you enjoyed this article and would like to receive future articles in your inbox --- Subscribe to our free newsletter

Photo Story - My Vacation in the Bahamas

We're back!


Just a brief lesson to you about traveling outside the United States -- You will be roaming the entire time!

I didn't realize how much I would miss my texting and being able to instantly send photos to friends and family. But, at least now I am able to share a little of the Bahamas with you, because my character of the day is Miss Eloise. Well, that's what I'm calling her as I didn't get permission to use her real name because I didn't know I was going to blog about her until just now. No, really. I didn't.

Miss Eloise is an 82 year old Bahamian woman who has lived her entire life in Georgetown, Bahamas, which is where we stayed (at the Sandals Emerald Bay resort). It's a place I will recommend to anyone planning to make that trip. It's the most popular resort in Georgetown according to our guide, Miss Eloise.

View from our room

When she first loaded us up into her large SUV at the airport and before she proceeded forward toward the resort, she paused and said in her thick Bahamian accent, "Welcome to the Bahamas." Her voice was crackled with age, but she seemed well animated and passionate about her country. It was dark out, so I couldn't see her well enough to tell her age, but the shaking in her voice gave me a little hesitation and I was honestly hoping she wouldn't keel over while driving us to the resort.

She didn't keel over. We made it!

She gave us each a business card with the name and number to her taxi services. We wouldn't pull this card out until the last full day we were to stay on this beautiful island. When we called her, she was delighted to pick us up and take us out to the docks where we would ride in a water taxi to Stocking Island, but first she showed us around the surrounding areas and gave us a little history of the place.

Miss Eloise's accent was so beautiful, and with the age and wisdom in her voice, I felt mesmerized. It was like I was in a movie and the narrator was right beside me walking me through it. Then I realized I wouldn't have wanted anyone else narrating but her.

A small, brown snake slithered between two planks on the walkway leading toward the ancient tombs we'd come to witness. I stopped, "Is it safe to go back there?"

"It's okay, darling." Her accent strung out the word darling and it reminded me of Eva Gabor in Green Acres. "Those snakes won't harm you."

They didn't harm us, but they were everywhere. Even one popped out of a stony piece of ruin at the base of the tombs. I'm not lying. I have the picture to prove it. See, I knew you might question me on this. I was close enough to get some detail.

They should have named the place Tomb of the Snakes!

When we were finished touring the area of Georgetown, Miss Eloise drove us to the water taxis and called out to a large Bahamian man, "Elvis, darling! Take my friends to the island, will you man." And he did. He asked what time to pick us up and we told him around 3:00 p.m. because it was only 10:00 a.m. and we wanted to enjoy all the stuff there was to do and discover on Stocking Island. Then he nodded and left.

Let me share this with you. Stocking Island isn't like the boardwalk of things to do like we have in the States. When you go to an attraction here in the US, there are actually things that "attract" you as in things to do. Remember this, because the only thing to do on Stocking Island is hang out at the Chat n' Chill…when it's open, which it was not.

Stranded with nothing to do!

I think everything would have been fine had we arrived when the place was open. It was as if we were on a deserted island, only there was an audience to watch us as we wandered around in awe that we had absolutely not a thing to do. Yes, there were sailboats anchored in the water, EVERYWHERE! And there were probably people on those boats laughing their asses off at the only two people on the entire island, looking dumbfounded as we certainly felt.

However, no worries! After about an hour of wandering around, we went back to the Chat n' Chill and thank the heavens above there was a boat and some people unloading supplies of food and beer and marching them up the beach and into the small building that is the Chat n' Chill.

Nothing to do but take photos

"Excuse me, but what time do you open?" Tim asked one of the unloaders.

"Eleven O'clock," the kid offered as he marched up the steps.

I looked at my watch. Yes! It was 11:15 a.m. so we went inside and got a Diet Coke. When I asked about food, the bartender told me the kitchen wasn't open yet and they needed another hour to prepare. So, there were two things to do at that moment. Hang out with my husband in the Chat n' Chill and drink a Diet Coke. Ain't that fancy. You know me. I didn't care that it was before noon.

"Bartender? I think I'll have a Kalik Light." If there's one thing I know how to do when there's nothing else around is have a good time.

And finally, to drink some Bahamian beer...

Cheers!

If you enjoyed this article and would like to receive future articles in your inbox --- Subscribe to our free newsletter

The Unreliable Narrator's Uneventful Flight

Most people who know me understand I don't do well flying in airplanes. That's why whenever I'm prescribed Hydrocodone after a dental procedure or any other painful injury, I save those pain killers for days like yesterday, a day that could have been the worst day of my life. That's right, I flew in an airplane...while on dope.

I take a pill just before the security checkpoint where they make you spread your legs and put your hands in the air so all the TSA agents can gawk at you in all their power, glory, and cheesy outfits. After the full body scan is complete, the guard waves me through without a hitch. I giggle slightly because my daughter is pulled aside for further inspection. Apparently, her Miss Me jeans were too blingy.

I have this well planned out, because it's the third time I've traveled in this state of mind. I take a pill about 30 minutes before take off and I'm good to go, usually laying over either in Charlotte or Atlanta. The hour or two delay in either city's airport is not a problem as they have establishments serving up draft beer, which puts a loopy spin on the pain killer.

The second flight boards at 8:15 p.m. and I'm feeling relaxed. Matter of fact, flying is a breeze. Why anyone would have a problem with flying is beyond me. I check out all the nervous passengers and give each a wide smile. Some I wink at, "I got this. Piece of cake." They stare back at me, worry on their faces. I reassure them, everything is going to be fine.

Flight takes off. All is good. My daughter has the seat behind me. The flight will be fifty two minutes according to the flight attendant speaking over the intercom. There must be fifteen babies on this flight, all crying in unison. The more babies on the flight, the less likely the plane will go down. Why? Because God loves babies.

The intercom system activates again and we are promised  refreshments shortly.

Perfect. I order a Miller Lite. The attendant is super nice. Positive vibes rub off.

The lady next to me orders apple juice for her 10 year old son and a Diet Coke for herself. Her son spills both, but I'm cool as a cucumber and drink my beer.

I feel a couple bumps and drops and people around me look at each other and all around. But I'm good. I smile and nod at a few. They turn away, holding the arms of their chairs a little too tightly. The babies even stop crying and it is as if everyone is holding their breaths. Not me. I'm cool as a cucumber.

Then my daughter touches my shoulder from behind, "Mom, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

A few hours later, the alcohol leaves my system and we're in our hotel room. My daughter is bewildered and appears animated while talking about our flight. Apparently, the plane had an unusual amount of turbulence and people on the plane were freaking out. I would have been one of those people had I not saved up my pain killers like a squirrel creating their stash of acorns for the winter.

What on earth does this have to do with making progress? A year ago, we would have wasted 12 hours driving to our destination. I've learned to be more efficient with my time. Though I do not condone the use of prescription medication for purposes which they are not prescribed, on occasion, I put the finger to such policies for the sake of my own comfort. To me, that's progress!

P.S. This is a fictitious character telling the details of our flight to Roanoke. I refuse to incriminate myself. It's fiction with a little bit of truth. Call it the unreliable narrator. ;)



If you enjoyed this article and would like to receive future articles in your inbox --- Subscribe to our free newsletter