Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
I should have known the travel gods were forsaking me when, 15 minutes into my adventure, I was unable to locate the bus stop. Seriously. I had Google-mapped it and had my phone navigation set, but still couldn't find the dang thing. "No worries Amy, minor setback", I try to convince myself. "Skip the bus and walk to the train, you've got this." Game on.
Well, about 1.5 hours later, I'm still walking...in sandals...carrying backpack...pulling roller bag...in approximately 90 degree full on Florida sunshine. I'm dangerously close to missing the airport train, I've got blisters on my feet and the cab company I've called to rescue me can't locate the random (locked) warehouse parking lot I've taken a much needed shade break at.
I hung my head in shame, cursing my stubborn self for putting myself in this position, and prepared to wave my white flag. Just then I looked up, and that's when I saw it. My oasis in the hot, dry, pedestrian unfriendly desert of Ft. Lauderdale...a mortuary. Yes, that's right, I said mortuary. And I couldn't have been happier. I mustered up my last bit of energy and made my way to it's lobby. Its glorious, air-conditioned lobby complete with water fountain and an address that a taxi could actually find. Embracing the irony that a mortuary was my saving grace, I quickly re-hydrated and waited anxiously for my cab.
Fast forward 45 minutes later - one train ride and one incredibly slow shuttle ride completed - I book it to the check-in desk with seconds to spare before my flight is closed. Literally seconds. I beg for mercy and am escorted through security (so this is what first class feels like) while the plane is being held at the gate for me. Murphy's Law in full effect, my bag has to be re-screened "because the computer randomly glitched". Totally frantic at this point, I grab my stuff, head full speed to my gate (a few toes may have been wheeled over - my apologies) and step onto the plane an instant before the door is secured. I sit down and contemplate the lesson in all of this. Next time...tennis shoes!
Thursday, May 10, 2012
completely alone on a secluded beach,
only the sand flies to keep me occupied. not another soul.
the ocean waves talk to me.
white sand. turquoise clouds on the horizon.
the sea is a brilliant mix of blues and greens I've never seen before.
the colors practically beg me to jump in and explore what lies beneath the surface.
instead I sit.
on the fluffy white sand. soft as a pillow.
and take it all in.