Timeout!

I know, I know, I have been gratuitously negligent (I really just wanted to use the word "gratuitious" right then and there) on updating everyone on my latest adventure. I went on a rampage over the airport debaucle, and now some of you probably think I had a terrible time in Turkey and am just covering it up with tales of woe. That is so not true. But you see, I am getting married next weekend and life is just a wee bit hectic at the moment. I have a to-do list several yards long and unfortunately, none of the items on it has anything to do with blogging,  or for that matter, anything fun at all.   So, I must take a brief timeout while I get this whole marriage thing together. Here are a few snippets of trip recap and two pictures to assure you that not only did I actually go, but that I had a grand 'ole time.

1. I did not purchase my wedding ring. Low point of the trip. But those darn Turks were having none of my amazing bargaining skills. One of them practically spit at the price I offered.
2. I did indeed find the Bosphorus Strait! It's kind of hard to miss while in Istanbul. However, there was no frolicking in it. As Lonely Planet guide puts it, unless one has a death wish, swimming in the Bosphorus is not advised.
3. Speaking of Lonely Planet, I have mixed emotions on traveling sans guidebook. Luckily, other people on the trip did, so it was more of a "baby steps" trip for me. There was one at my fingertips at any moment I so chose, but I did not have one of my own. Part of the trip, I felt as if I was wandering around in a fog, blindly following the lead of others. The other part was strangely exhilarating-I wasn't responsible! I didn't know a thing about anything, so therefore, I could not be responsible for mix-ups, wrong turns, and misinformation-of which all were in abundance on this trip. The logistics of traveling with 10 people is nothing short of a small nightmare. More on this later.
4.  The best day was the last day-took a drive out to the Black Sea. Simply gorgeous.

5. There are feral cats everywhere in Istanbul. I found this little guy in the public square outside of the Spice Bazaar.  He appears to really be enjoying his nap time.
6. I passed my Praxis exam. Nothing to do with Turkey, just super relieved and happy about it.

Must go get married now. More on everything later.

Part 2, Just a Freaking Cluster (Ode to JFK airport).

We got our boarding passes and looked around wildly for where to go. I asked a gentlemen who appeared to be working (leaning against a table) where Terminal 2 was, and he said if we would just wait five minutes while he used the restroom, he would take us there. Confident in my supreme abilities to navigate an airport and not wanting to waste another second, I politely declined his offer and we off we dashed. Into oblivion. You see, the person that designed that airport had to have just drawn a bunch of stick figures and buildings on  random pieces of paper, threw them all in the air, stomped on them, made a magic wish and then, with eyes closed, placed them into his blueprint.

We jumped on train that looked like as if was going somewhere important, such as a departure terminal. No such luck. In reality, we were headed out towards New York City, and I realized this at the last possible moment before it would have been too late. My traveling companion was not of much assistance, as this was her very first international trip, and only her second time flying. I was depending completely on myself and the kindness of strangers. We lunged off the train, and I asked the kindest looking person on the platform how to get to the Terminal 2. She pointed directly behind her, to the other side of the platform and told us to jump on there. Wonderful! It is now about 7:35, less than an hour until depature. We hop on, and wait what seems like an eternity until the train finally chugs into the stop we need. We get out. We see nothing even remotely "departure/lounge/check-in/security" like. Nothing. Perhaps if we head down the elevator. Oh but wait, there is a giant woman and her equally giant cat in a giant cat carrier blocking our way. Seriously??!! A giant cat?

Finally making it down the stairs, we find ourselves in no man's land, aka, a parking garage. This is where I start to feel myself crumble into a million little pieces. Back up the stairs, practically shrieking at yet another employee to find out where in all of God's creation is that blasted Terminal 2? She points to the direction from whence we came. no, No, NO! That was a parking garage! Back we go though, in hopes that a giant terminal will suddenly appear (perhaps to go along with the giant woman and her giant cat).  Of course we end up at the same spot in the same parking garage. Major meltdown is imminent. I am going to lose it right there on the asphalt. It was 7:47 and we were no closer to anything important, except large masses of parked cars. I literally had to give myself a peptalk/shakedown, ordering myself to GET IT TOGETHER!! We could not miss the flight and I was the only one that was going to get us to where needed to be....and I would be of no use to anyone if I was in a sad heap in the parking lot. Lo and behold, that same employee comes strolling out past the garage. Half-hysterical, I call out to her once again....beseeching her to tell me where in this forsaken place was TERMINAL 2??!!! She casually points over her shoulder to a large hangar-like building emblazoned with the words I so desperately was seeking. How was anybody supposed to find that? There were no signs leading or pointing the way, and one must arrive there by traipsing through a parking structure!! WHO DESIGNS THIS STUFF?? We dash for the Promised Land, run through the doors, gasp our way through the security (partly from panic, partly because it was 188 degrees inside, no AC). 7:57. Oh no. They want to take my snowglobe that I so lovingly packed into my checked luggage that became carry-on when all the Delta drama started happening. Blast. But another bright spot-the TSA officer let me keep it but took the box so that it would like she did her job. She then told me to just look really upset and/or angry when I left the screening area. No problem.

Finally, gate 27 is just a few steps away. We arrive, panting and sweating. There is some sort of medical emergency occurring in our waiting area, it is hot as Hades, and come to find out the next day, the would-be Times Square bomber was on the loose somewhere in the airport. Oh, and to cap everything off? Our flight is delayed one hour.

To finish this epic, (oh there is more, but I am over it) we arrive home safe and sound at 2 AM, only 5 hours after our intended arrival. It could have been worse. Enough of the airport drama, on with Turkey!!

Just a Freaking Kluster (The JFK Airport) Part 1.

I have returned from a fabulous vacation to Turkey, and it was wonderful and amazing, and glorious, and most importantly, wedding stress-FREE. But right now, what I really want to do is write about the complete inefficiency of John F. Kennedy International Airport and Delta airlines. Isn't that something? I just ventured to the only city that spans two continents, a magnificent blend of ancient and modern, and I want to sit here and rant about my return journey home. No worries, rant-free posts about the actual trip are in the works, but for now, the insanity of two nights ago is fresh on my mind. So I give you this.

It all started when our Delta Flight 73 was delayed 45 minutes due to a reason nobody could clearly define. "Technical issues" was all that was stated, the timeless offering of gate agents who have no idea. Our 12:15 departure was now scheduled for 1 PM. We did actually take off somewhat near this time, probably about 1:20. But with an 11 hour flight time, a  late arrival into New York would cut it extremely close for our 7 PM connection to DC.  In New York, we would still need to go through immigration, customs, and check back in for the next flight. However, there was nothing I could do about it, except sigh and sit back. Sure enough, due to plenty of turbulence and our late departure, we arrived in to JFK at 6 PM, and finally deboarded at 6:20. Suspicions confirmed. We would not be on our 7 PM flight to Dulles.

Clearing immigration and getting our bags actually took no time at all. This was the more pleasant part of the ensuing two hours. Once retrieving our things, we set out to find a Delta representative who could tell us what to do. This task proved to be fairly easy as well, considering that the line of passengers and their frustrations could be seen snaking around the ticketing area from afar. This monstrosity of a line was only exacerbated by the inconceivable reality that there was ONE gate agent dealing with rebooking half the passengers of a Boeing 747. ONE. My heart sank. Getting home that night was looking like a grim possibility and arriving at work on time the next day a lofty ideal. It was just the two of us, (the rest of the group went on to Greece-insert sad face here) and I had high hopes that it would be a breeze to rebook. Hopes were dashed after seeing that line, and dashed even further when after 10 minutes, we hadn't even moved. Even if there was a hope of getting on the next evening flight out, by the time we would actually get to front of the line, we might as well order breakfast. I took matters into my own hands and called Delta reservations while still in line. I was informed that we had already been rebooked on a 6 AM flight to DC......via Atlanta. Atlanta?? Um. No. I regretted to inform the agent that this would not be happening and that I would need a sooner flight, asap. All in my best sweet, yet desperately urgent tone of voice. She got the message and got us on an 8:30 landing at a different airport. Wonderful. It was 7:20. We would have just enough time. I hadn't reckoned on the evil labryinth of chaos and confusion though, also known as the JFK airport.

Away I Go

Armed with only the knowledge of the currency conversion (1.5 Lira to 1 US dollar) and the temperatures in Istanbul for the next 7 days (mid 60's and pleasantly sunny),  off I head into the wild blue yonder. I will admit that some momentary panic  was experienced last night as I contemplated that this was the extent of my knowledge of Turkey. Lonely Planet-less leaves me planless and that is one place that this girl does not like to be! This will be good for me though. Going to land where the wind takes me.  So! I've got my standard traveling shoes ("vintagey" Diesel, looking a little worse for wear), my passport, some lip gloss, a few US dollars, my ATM card and I am ready to rock. I have decided to throw complete caution to the wind and cram all of my necessities into one small carry-on, shunning the convenience of an actual suitcase or backpack. Livin' on the edge here folks. Hopefully I remember to actually bring it back with me.  We know from a previous and recent trip which shall remain nameless that this is a tall order. Back next week!

To Turkey Next Tuesday

I have barely given one thought to this trans-Atlantic jaunt next week. What with the bachelorette hooplah in Austin, the minutiae of nuptial planning plaguing almost all of my thoughts, the attempt to find a place to live  post-wedding, and last but definitely not least, the impending doom I feel coming upon me as I prepare to take the first of two major  exams meant to finally shed myself of the "substitute teacher" moniker. Oh, and then there is the pesky little matter of a certain volcano spewing ash hither and yon over important parts of Europe. Parts that I must fly through to get to Istanbul. So what do I decide to do at work today? Spend 45 minutes looking for non-existent peacock-themed cupcake liners. Try to find them, I dare you. When my wrist felt as if carpal-tunnel was setting in and the liners in quest were nowhere to be found, I gave up. 45 minutes of my life I will never get back.

I can safely say that perhaps scheduling a trip to Europe so close to my wedding and exams has not been one of my most brilliant ideas, but what's done is done. Besides, I occasionally like to live on the edge. At least I have my passport, which as of yesterday, at least one member of our little group still did not have. As in, it has not yet been issued by the U.S Department of State.  Now that is living dangerously.

And speaking of walking the wild side, brace yourselves. I have not purchased a Lonely Planet guidebook to Istanbul/Turkey (gasp!) to accompany me on this trip.  Those of you who know me, know that I rarely leave the U.S without said guide. You just never know when that thing will come in handy. For example, in a crowded Tanzanian bus station last November, in the midst of teeming throngs of over-zealous cab drivers,  fumes of a bajillion buses,  eager touts waiting to sell me something I didn't need, and a no-show ride, I was able to somewhat calmly pull my guide out and find the nearest spot to access the internet.  Of course, communicating this to someone proved to be another issue, but no matter, thanks to Lonely Planet, we had a PLAN!  I digress. You get the idea of my passionate feelings on LP. So now,  throwing caution and all responsibilities to the hopefully ash-free wind next Tuesday, I will depart for a quick trip to Turkey. I will, I hope, return with the following:
1. A wedding ring
2. Ideas for future lesson plans to inspire my minions of young minds
3. Shoes! I never need an excuse to purchase footwear, but certainly going to another country always qualifies.
4. A calm outlook on life that will last for at least the next 6 weeks. 

Speaking of calm-brace yourself for a rant completely off the topic of this blog.  This is fresh, which is why this tangent begins....now.  WHY do people lose all sense of politeness and decorum and ETIQUETTE when it comes to weddings??!! I have just arrived home after a very long day to find yet another rsvp card in which the person has graciously responded with a "plus one" where none was given. READ THE ENVELOPE!  There are budget and space issues. You didn't get a "plus one" for a very good reason. If you are not dating anyone and you are already going to know a bunch of people there, then just come and enjoy yourself-no date really necessary right? good grief.

Am I being unreasonable here?

If you have any thoughts on anything mentioned in this post, please weigh in. From ash, to weddings, to your own tales of stress and woe,  wedding or travel, let me hear from you. It may serve to calm me down just a tad. I am normally a very calm person. Some people even  go so far as to call me "stoic."  Not today though.

Oh, and if you should happen to know where I can find peacock cupcake liners, tell me and  make a girl happy.

The Three G's

Gluttony, my Girls, and the Glory (as in glorious weather and a glorious good time.) This bachelorette trip was all that was promised and hoped for.

We started out in Houston, being generally lazy for a few days, and then road-tripped up to the fair city of Austin. We weren't even in our destination five minutes before we found ourselves at the Mighty Cone. And dear me, was it Mighty. I just wish that there had been time to visit twice. Alas, I had to make do with once, indulging myself in the crunchy goodness of "deep-sauteed" avocado with a spicy sauce drizzled upon it. (Half-consumed at left).  Heavenly. We actually did make an attempt to go twice, but were thwarted by some blasted antique car festival that was making our progress towards the Mightiness pretty darn slow. It would have impeded our later dinner plans, and of course, since our trip was centered around eating at various spots, we had to make sure we stayed on schedule. Let's see if I can just give you a little run-down of what I have consumed over the past 5 days:
1. Crepes. I am not typically a fan of what I like to call "froo-froo" food, but these were excellent. All chocolatey and berry-ish.
2. A spicy Thai dish laden with vegetables and well, spiciness.
3. Copious amounts of chips, salsa, and guacamole.
4. The Mighty Cone

5. Cupcakes.  Worthy of my wedding if only I could find a way to get them from Austin to West Virginia and not have them wilt in the process.
6.  Two extremely delicious veggie tacos. Both were bursting with some things I have never had on tacos before. Was it moss? 3 leaf clovers? No idea, but it all got eaten.
7. Several chicken fajitas marinated in a Polynesian Plum sauce.
8. The most amazing onion rings ever. Onion rings are pretty standard wherever you go, but the standard has now been raised. I think the not-so-secret ingredient was simply..........black pepper. Imagine that.
9. One kind of gross pizza. But it sure hit the spot at 3 AM.

You all get the point. I said I was going to eat, and I meant it!

Now, aside from the eating, Austin was a delightful little spot in which to spend my waning days as a single woman. And I couldn't have picked a better group of girls to go with. We all had a blast, we all ate ourselves into near oblivion, and we enjoyed each others company every step of the way. They even dressed me up in a bridal tiara and sash and we pranced about town one evening. I glamorously showcased a huge fake but ultra-blingy diamond, (see pic at right) to prove to the world that I am engaged. (Although I broke it soon after. Fake diamond rings are apparently not very sturdy.) There was also a bridal (mechanical) bull ride which I can now cross off my list of things to do in life. I am proud to say that I lasted at least ten seconds before being unceremoniously chucked off. Then, after demands from the girls that I get back on, this time with the tiara atop my head, I was right back at it. Note to self: wear more appropriate bull-riding clothes if in this situation again. A cute little dress is fine for walkin', but not for bull ridin'.

We did a little walk up Mt. Bonnell, where of all things, there was a little wedding going on. Of course we crashed it (from afar) and arrived just in time to see them pronounced husband and wife. Awwww.
After this, a sunny drive to Town Lake where we stuck our feet in and chatted. Pulled feet out twenty minutes later to find leeches nestled right at home on legs and feet. Gross, and it incited near panic in at least one of us. Not me, proud to say.

And the night life? WHOA. I have never seen anything like it, not in any place I have lived or traveled. Period. 6th street (and the surrounding streets) has now earned the Travelin' Fool title for Most Happenin' Spot in the world.  Oh and apparently, you can appear in public wearing nothing but some skimpy underpants. There was a young lady doing just this on Friday afternoon while protesting something. We were so shocked, we protested by checking with a nearby policeman on whether this was legal. (yes, we are somewhat nerdy) He assured us it was, as long as the person was clothed in underwear. !!! So if you ever go, and you happen to forget your clothes, no worries. Just wear your underwear.

Keep Austin Weird!

(official Austin slogan, not my own creativity).
PS-the group pic above includes a stray bachelor--someone we know who was in the area at the time. he made a swift exit when all the real bachelorette fun began ;)

If the B & B is a Rockin'......

Headed to Austin today, but couldn't resist this little story before I left. Enjoy. 

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to stay with two of my girlfriends at a bed and breakfast somewhere on the Eastern seaboard.  It shall remain nameless and exact locationless. It was quaint, charming, comfortable, adorable, lovely, tastefully decorated-all the things bed and breakfasts are supposed to be.

But we didn't get any sleep.

Why you ask?

Well, as a subtle bumper sticker once told me, "If the van's a rockin', don't come a knockin." I was approximately 9 when I saw this and just so happened to be in the car with dear old Dad. Being 9, in 1989, I was fairly innocent and unaware of the goings-on of adults. Today, there are plenty of 9 year olds that know way more than me on certain subjects, but I will save that for an unfunny post on moral decay in our society. Just sit tight for that one.
Anyway, that day, I piped up and asked dear old Dad what on earth does rockin' and knockin' mean? Following a palpably uncomfortable silence, I realized that for some reason, he really didn't want to answer my query, and that it likely had to do with something icky and mortifying. Something I did NOT want to hear or discuss while being stuck in the car with him. He mumbled something about people being crass and inappropriate (or something to that effect) and then told me to ask him when I was older. Enough said, I was sure to NEVER ask him such a thing, then or at any other time. I digress. Let's get back to the B & B.

After a lovely evening, we fell into bed around 1 AM. Just in time for the romp above us to get into full swing. And by romp, I mean marathon. Now, I don't want to get too graphic, as it is just not in my nature to do so. And I also don't want to offend any of my six readers. But let me tell you, the soundtrack we heard above our heads would put any in the steamy romance (and by romance, I mean something else) movies to shame.  At nearly 30, I like to think I am still fairly innocent, and my sense of propriety refused to allow me to believe what I was hearing. Shortly thereafter though, there was no mistaking. We all sat there in amused horror, because it's like a train wreck-you really can't tear yourself from it. Assuming that this was just a one-time event and then we could all get some sleep, we waited it out. When silence came, we drifted off to sleep. Rudely awakened five minutes later by Round II, we were flabbergasted. By the end of Round III, cranky. Still later, Round V found us on the verge of angry and looking for a solution. In all of my angry brilliancy, I decided that the best option was to stomp up the stairs, stomp especially loud outside of their room, flick some lights on and off, and cough as if I had suddenly contracted tuberculosis.  Now mind you, we were the only other people besides them staying there that night. And they knew that at least I was there, because they saw me when I checked in.  When this did not work, I pounded on the ceiling of our room. This apparently caught their attention because there was a cease and desist.....for all of three minutes. Then, you guessed it, right back at it. Round VI. At one point, one of the girls finds a decrepit radio to play, something, anything, to drown out the exhibition going on above. Because by that point we were convinced that there was something else at work here: medication? clearly. an affair? possibly. people who like to show off? Oh yeah, most def. Now, I am not a hater, nor do I begrudge anyone their expressions of love. (keeping things family friendly here!) But come on now!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? Have some consideration!!

Siiiiigh. Around 3 AM, an uncomfortable sleep overtook us. A sleep punctuated by other noises of the night-train whistles, each other, tree limbs creaking, you name it. Either way, we woke up feeling decidedly unrefreshed, a little shocked, and as always in this blog, amused. Oh, and slightly terrified of seeing them at breakfast.  But I had already determined that if they had the nerve to show their faces, I would not be above lobbing a few snarky comments in their direction. Thankfully, they apparently were still in bed. Well, I guess so. They were clearly up all night doing other things.

Can anybody relate to this? Been kept up all night in a hostel/hotel/b&b for this or another less amorous (and more G-rated!) reason?