These are my confessions…Part 1

There are a few things I need to get off my chest. I’ve been walking around holding this stuff in for months (or in some cases, years) and it is killing me. I hope that finally sharing these confessions with you (#NoUsher) will give me some relief.

1) I’ve never been great with money. I mean, literally. I used to confuse nickels and quarters growing up. I finally came to realize that they were different coins by remembering that the quarter was smooth around the edges and the nickel was ridged. Oh wait…

2) I’ve never really been that great at telling time. And because of this, I used to ask for digital watches on Christmases and birthdays. Then my parents got hip to the game and started making me wear a real watch so that I could learn how to tell time. Now, the problem is that I HAVE to have a watch with at least some numbers (some of them can be lines or dots to replace the numbers, but I gotta have some numbers)…I can’t have one of those sexy no-numbered watches with just a face and some hands. I’d NEVER make it anywhere on time.

You and I are both shocked that my face doesn’t look like this.

You and I are both shocked that my face doesn’t look like this.

3) I haven’t washed my makeup brushes since…ever. In my defense (and go with me on this, because I recognize that this really is indefensible) I don’t wear makeup that often. So my brushes probably aren’t that dirty by comparison. Yet, I am still surprised my face hasn’t crawled off my face in disgust and disappointment. Every time I think about washing them, it’s at a time when I need to use them. And I can’t do anything with wet brushes.

4) I am selfish. I don’t like when my friends get better jobs and move away, go back to school, or have kids. I don’t like it when they do anything that betters their life therefore taking time away from my time with them. I do not like it because I love them and want to keep them all to myself. I do not want to share. So if you come to me and say, “Guess what?! I just got accepted to the Ph.D. program at Buttface University in a city that isn’t in your time zone with a full ride! After I graduate, I will have my pick of jobs anywhere in the country and maybe even the WORLD!” And I say, “So what am I supposed to do?”…don’t be surprised.

5) The first person I followed on Twitter was Snooki. The second person was Barack Obama. I was scrolling through my Twitter page a few weeks ago and made this discovery. This really makes me feel some type of way.

What are YOUR confessions? C’mon, share with me! They can’t be worse than mine!

(Here’s another confession…I have a lot more confessions but I’m participating in #blogging201 through WordPress and I promised I’d stay under 500 words per post. So I’m cheating a little…Part 2 coming soon!)


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Stop telling girls that they can be anything they want when they grow up.


It has been the topic du jour for seems like at least the past 365 jours. Because it is all up and through every blog, website, book, tweet, TV talk show, TV news show, college tour speaking circuit, book club meeting, brunch discussion, etc. etc. ETC., I figured maybe I should have an opinion. I’m not known for being opinionless on most matters, so why start now?

So I started doing some research on exactly what feminism is because I thought I knew and thought I was a feminist, but couldn’t understand why this topic was SUPER hot as of late. defines feminism as “the doctrine advocating social, political, and all other rights of women equal to those of men.” So it’s like DUH of course I’m a feminist, right? I mean based on this definition, I would think that EVERYONE would be a feminist. (Just go with me on this…) So if everyone is a feminist, then why do we even need to talk about feminism? But then you have idiots like THIS who remind us why we still need to talk about feminism. But the feminist movement of 2013 and 2014 seems very different than in previous decades and I assume that this is due, in large part, to the omnipresence of social media.

I’m conflicted. For example…

1) I think our country is LONG overdue for a woman President. And I think any of these chix would make pretty cool Presidents…

Wait…how did Yonce’s picture get in there!? That chick is EVERYWHERE!

2) Oh yeah, I use words like “chick” and “broad” in regular conversation. Like a lot. So there’s that.

3) I think that when a woman marries, she should take her husband’s last name.

4) But if the marriage unfortunately ends in divorce, generally speaking (not absolutely speaking), I don’t think a woman should be expected or rather, REQUIRED to relinquish that name. A scene from What’s Love Got to Do With It (though fictional) comes to mind; when Tina Turner (Angela Bassett) is in the courtroom and proclaims that her husband Ike Turner (Laurence Fishburne) can have the money, but she’s keeping her name…<–THIS!

5)  I LOVE the 300 Sandwiches chick’s website and the whole concept behind it. Honestly, if someone were to tell me to make him 300 sandwiches and he’d propose (and make me a housewife, not just a wife), I’d make him 300 sandwiches TONIGHT. Every piece of pumpernickel, rye, sourdough, croissant, multigrain, mustard, honey mustard, spicy mustard, mayo, ketchup, horseradish, lettuce, tomato, onion, pickle, swiss, cheddar, muenster, mozzarella, provolone, tuna salad, chicken salad, shrimp salad, turkey, ham, pastrami, roast beef, peanut butter, honey, strawberry jelly, grape jelly, orange marmalade, you want it toasted, you want the crust cut off…

6) Way way back when ringtones were still cool, I had THIS as my ringtone. IT WAS MY JOINT!

7) And long after ringtones weren’t cool anymore but I still had them, THIS was my ringtone. It, too, was my joint!

8) I love rap music. I can’t express to you how much I love it. Every misogynistic, disgusting, disrespectful bit of it. And I revealed HERE how I struggle with this. But if you notice, there hasn’t been a part two to this post. Because I haven’t fully been able to figure this one out. This is a 20+ year habit so it hasn’t been easy to kick.

This is what the dashboard in my car looks like. picture via

This is what the dashboard in my car looks like.
picture via

9) I believe that there are clear man/husband duties and obvious woman/wife duties. For example, right now, I need gas, an oil change, a new battery, air in my tires, two other things I’ve yet to identify, and new windshield wipers. And have for a couple of months now. I think that those are the kinds of things that men do better. Meanwhile, while he is taking care of my car, I’ll be at home baking him a cake.  

Men don't let this happen to windshield wipers. Hercules + Pax + Titan

Men don’t let this happen to windshield wipers. Hercules + Pax + Titan

              10) Half the stuff the Twitter feminists tweet makes me cringe (like THIS for example). The other half (like THIS) I usually retweet.

11) I believe that we should wear bras, not burn them. And we should shave our armpits because if we don’t, that’s just gross. And I love GIRLS, but I think Lena Dunham should always wear clothes. Always, always, ALWAYS. I know she has the right to not wear clothes and I know a lot of very strong women fought for her to have that right. But she should wear clothes. And keep them on. ALLLLLLZ the way through the episode. Like every episode. Because otherwise, it’s gross.

12) I’m not a fan of public breastfeeding. I mean, I’m just not. It grosses me out. And every time I try to be open-minded and confront the (possible) flaws in my thinking, people go do stuff like THIS right here. And it completely closes my mind again and makes me throw up in my mouth.

13) Sarah Silverman is a natural born fool, so I have to quote her sparingly. But she said something that I really like: “Stop telling girls that they can be anything they want when they grow up. I think it’s a mistake. Not because they can’t do it, but because it would have never occurred to them that they couldn’t in the first place.” I agree wholeheartedly. And I would put that on a t-shirt if it wasn’t so long.

Sooo does this make me a moderate feminist? A bad feminist? Or a person who still doesn’t fully understand what it means to be a feminist? Thoughts?

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34 Things I Want to do Before I Turn 34

Being that I’m 33 3/4, I’ve decided that there are a few things that I need to scratch off my bucket list ASAP. There is no way I can turn 34 and not have done all of this. It would be shameful.

1) Drop an iTunes single. Not a day goes by that I don’t question why I went to college. I’m not exactly sure what I got out of it other than a bunch of student loans. (<–This is kinda a lie, but not really.) I shoulda gone with my heart and become a rapper. I got mad skillz, son. My current circle includes auditors, teachers, and congressional staffers. And everybody got a single, yo! I’m like what is MY life like that I don’t have a single on iTunes?! This is what I was born to do…I can drop similes and metaphors like no other. Lil Wayne gots nothing on me. And if I don’t become a rapper, I should at least become a DJ. How does DJ Foolishmagnet sound? Or should it just be DJ Magnet? You can tell I’ve been thinking about this a lot…

2) Go up to a man somewhere (anywhere) and tell him that he looks like my future ex-husband. Let me tell you a story. One day I was driving to work and stopped at a red light. A rather eager, distinguished-looking gentleman (“distinguished-looking”=old) motioned for me to roll down my window. “Maybe this very, very distinguished-looking man in a huge double-breasted suit and a very long Cadillac is lost,” I thought. “He needs directions. Or maybe he wants to let me know that my rear brake lights are out. How nice of him! I should probably roll the window down. You just never know!” So I roll it down. “I, I, I just gotta know…are you married, single, divorced or WHAT?!” Sigh. “Sir, you are old enough to be my great grandfather’s great grandfather. Let’s not do this.” Then I rolled my window back up and tried to ball off, but couldn’t…because the light was still red. So we just sat there. So yeah, one day in the next few months I want to introduce foolishness into someone else’s life for a change rather than it always being introduced into mine.

3) Make it through one yoga class without giggling. Just one! As you may know, I like to do yoga. Every once in a while, I do hot yoga.  The instructors are always so serious when they say, “Now we’re going to do ookatasanamammoomaksana shobbybobsina mamasaymamasamumakusa. Some of you may know it as tree pose.” I’m like, “MAN, why don’t you just say tree pose?!” You’re taking yourself too seriously trying to pronounce the real names! Cracks me up every time! If anybody should NOT take themselves so seriously, it’s a yogi!

 4) And speaking of yoga, I need to stop eating at Subway. According to the internets, Subway makes  (made?) its sandwiches out of yoga mats. Since the story broke that they were allegedly removing the yoga mats from their bread, I think I’ve been to Subway about three times. I keep forgetting. I should be more diligent. Have they removed them yet or nah?

5) Umbrella hitchhike. I got another story for you. Last year when I was at the Essence Festival, I stepped out of a cab and started walking to my destination for a night of exciting performances. It started to sprinkle and quickly transitioned into a full throttle storm. But I was prepared and had a mini-umbrella in my purse. A chick I’d never seen before a day in my life walked up to me, virtually hugging me and said, “I know you don’t mind if I share your umbrella, do you? I just got a relaxer.” I was stunned into silence. As it started to rain harder, I started to walk faster. Then the chick said, “Can you slow down a little? I have on really high heels and can’t walk that fast.” So what did I do? I walked even faster, of course, leaving her to melt in the rain and ponder on her selfish actions. Or umbrella hitchhike some other unsuspecting soul. WHO DOES THAT?! I’ve never even asked a stranger to invade their private space like that, let alone tell them. Actually now that I think about it, that wasn’t very cool at all when she did it to me, so maybe I won’t do this to someone else. So forget I said all of this.

6) Learn how to parallel park a car without having to take all my clothes off. Last story, I promise. I was meeting some friends to go to a comedy show and, fortunately, found a parking space close to the building. Unfortunately, I needed to parallel park to get in the space. Parallel parking, as you can imagine, is not my specialty.  So I called one of the friends I was meeting and was like, “Can you parallel park good?” He was like, “Um…is there a car in front of you AND behind you?” I’m like, “Yes. That’s kinda what constitutes the need for parallel parking.” Then there was a long, awkward pause. “You know what, let me try again and I’ll call you back once I’ve started walking.” “Ok, cool!” I took off every coat, scarf, shirt, shoe, earring, turned the heat down, turned the AC up, turned the music off, and rolled the windows down so I could be as unencumbered as possible. It was so crowded in that car and I was so claustrophobic and hot! Parallel parking is stressful! Especially when you’re on one of those skinny, one-way streets. Which I wasn’t, but I just thought I’d throw that in there. Anyway, people walking by were stopping and staring. One dude was walking his dog and he stopped and looked. Great. That’s just great. As if there weren’t enough humans laughing at me, now you go and bring a dog into this. Luckily the comedian was on CP time or I probably would have missed the show.

7) Stop lying. Did y’all REALLY think I was going to list 34 things? In the immortal words of the homie Sweet Brown, “Ain’t nobody got time for that!”


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You can’t make this stuff up! – Part 3

pict53“Ladies and Gentlemen, we appreciate your patience. We have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that we found a pilot.”  The plane erupts in shouts and applause! “The bad news is that he is currently flying another plane en route to Atlanta.  As soon as he lands and can make his way to our plane, we’ll be ready to depart.” So now we have to wait for the borrowed, likely overworked and sleep-deprived pilot coming from God knows where to fly our plane because nobody could find our original pilot? Great. That’s just great. I definitely feel safe flying the “friendly” skies now.

Picture from RoneyZone Productions via

Picture from RoneyZone Productions via

As we sit on the tarmac, I try to keep my eyes on the prize and not get discouraged. The LAST thing I need is for them to cancel my flight. Better late than never, right? But not TOO late! The couple sitting next to me is keeping themselves busy by shopping online for engagement rings. Dude is like, “Don’t they have any $100 diamonds? Where are all the $100 diamonds? Let’s find a $100 diamond!” And the chick is like, “But then the setting will cost more than the stone. Do you want the setting to cost more than the stone?” And dude is like, “What I want is for you to find a $100 diamond.” Please understand that I’m not judging a $100 diamond when I don’t have ANY diamonds.  But I’m guessing that a $100 diamond looks something like this –>*<–. I mean, like, that is the actual size.

Meanwhile, in the row in front of me sits a man who apparently was a “somebody” at one time at Delta Airlines. The flight attendant approaches him and carries on a loud and seemingly flirtatious conversation. She asks, “Are these your daughters?” pointing to the two ‘tweens sitting next to him. “Yes,” he responds proudly. “And is that your wife sitting in row 3? She is really attractive. You did good! I’m impressed.”  They go back and forth for a while, all loud and giggly. It seems that they have the attention of everyone on the plane…and I think they want it that way. Finally, the flight attendant giggles herself away. “Dad, who was that?” one of the daughters asks. “Just an old friend, sweetie. We used to work together and fly to Amsterdam all the time. Those were the days…the good ole days,” he says with a long, deep sigh. Um. Y’all used to kick it in Amsterdam? Okay. There are so many places I could go with this, but I’ll leave it alone. (Later in the flight I notice that she’s bringing them all the fancy snacks like the Cape Cod potato chips while the rest of us get that little bag of Delta peanuts…but whatevs.)

So back to the couple sitting next to me, they are clearly makin’ UP from the earlier tiff they had because now they are makin’ OUT. MAN, WHO JUST MAKES OUT ON A PLANE AT A TIME LIKE THIS?! Sittin’ beside me? What did I do to deserve this? I just wanna get to Memphis, that’s all.

The pilot arrives right in the nick of time to end all the kissy faces and flirting. We take off and land without incident. The party and all the drama leading up to the party is a story within itself. But I think this trilogy has been long enough! We pull off the surprise, the party is a success, and my Mom is thrilled! Other than the fact that on the way back they cancel my flight into Raleigh-Durham, book me on a flight to Atlanta (again), then change their mind and switch me back to the Raleigh Durham flight, the return trip is rather uneventful.

Alexandria–>Baltimore–>Cincinatti–>Atlanta–>Memphis–>Jackson–>Memphis–>Raleigh-Durham–>Atlanta–>Raleigh-Durham–>Baltimore–>Alexandria. WHEW!

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You can’t make this stuff up! – Part 2


Dog poop to be more specific. We are all sitting here minding our business when somebody’s Lassie-lookin’ dog decides to eliminate very elaborately and enormously right there in the middle of the concourse! It is so unbelievable and disgusting! This dog is accompanying a family that has TONS of bags. They have to drop everything and clean up after the dog while his and their every move is watched and recorded by spectators.

picture via

picture via

The smell lingers for a while but the visual is at least out of sight, so we all redirect our attention to whatever we were doing before the incident. For me, that means watching the continuous news coverage of the flu outbreak.  But suddenly I am distracted again by a set of fraternal twins that walk by. They look to be between two and three years old and they are SUPER cute! Their mom is walking between them holding both of their little hands. And I notice that their pants seem to be a little too short. The too short britches make them even cuter! But then I notice that the back of the little girl’s white pants has a brown spot on it. A big brown spot. A growing brown spot. “OMG!” I thought. “Is this kid poopin’, too? WHY is every mammal within a 50-foot radius of me pooping right now!?” I grab my stuff and retreat to a less populated part of the airport.

I find a relatively quiet corner and hunker down next to a nice, quiet couple. I look for outlets to charge all my electronics while the wife fetches food for herself and her husband. He and I are left sitting there watching CNN. They momentarily switch from panicking about the flu back to panicking about Hercules and the weather-related travel drama in the Midwest and Northeast. They show city after city of people sleeping in airports, making snowmen (and in some cases, entire snow families), and attempting to turn boiling water into snow (watch here). He turns to me and says, “So much for that “global warming” stuff, right?” And he does “global warming” in air quotes and then tries to high-five me. I just look at him. I am so NOT HERE for the climate change deniers, sir! Especially not right now and extra especially not when JUST BECAUSE IT IS SNOWING IN CERTAIN PARTS OF NORTH AMERICA DOES NOT MEAN THAT THE ENTIRE GLOBE, ON AVERAGE, ISN’T GETTING WARMER. THAT IS WHY IT’S CALLED GLOBAL WARMING! Please do not come for me today, old man! All I wanna do is get to Memphis!

Just when I’d had enough of all the fluin’, poopin’, and climate-change denyin’, they announced that it was time to board our flight. FINALLY!

It is actually kind of impressive how quickly we all manage to board the plane. Everyone is seated and ready to go when a dude boards the plane with a carry-on that is stuffed to the brim. I mean, it looks like this dude is moving permanently because he brought ALL the clothes. Why they didn’t make him gate-check that bag, I’ll never know. He tries unsuccessfully for several minutes to squeeze it into an overhead bin. “That bag is not gon’ fit, honey,” the flight attendant says to him. “Well, I can just slide it under my seat,” he replies. “Honey, it is NOT gon’ fit under your seat!” Bless his heart. The flight attendant brings him some plastic bags to unpack his suitcase and place the contents in several smaller bags so that he can squeeze those into multiple overhead bins. As the entire plane watches and waits, he systematically unpacks his old bag and repacks his new bags right there in the middle of the airplane aisle.

Finally, we are ready for take-off! Or are we? The flight attendant announces, “Ladies and Gentlemen, there seems to be a slight problem. Um. We…um…can’t find the pilot. Other than that, we’re all ready to take off. But yeah…we kinda need the pilot. Please be patient and we’ll be back with an update as soon as we have one.”

To be continued…AGAIN…

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You can’t make this stuff up! – Part 1

As a participant in the WordPress Weekly Writing  Challenge “Cliffhanger”, I wanted to recap my most recent travel experience with you.

So I guess the drama of this trip started while I was still at work last Friday. Hercules had already hit and now it was time to deal with the aftermath. Even though I was traveling in the opposite direction of where the storm hit, I KNEW my flight(s) would somehow be affected. After all, I am me. And I was right.

Sitting at my desk, I noticed that an e-mail from Delta Airlines popped up the exact second that my phone rang from an unidentified number. “Oh no,” I thought. “This cannot be good.” Delta was contacting me to let me know that my flight from Baltimore to Cincinnati would be delayed by an hour. This wouldn’t have been a problem if my final destination was Cincinnati. But since I was going to Memphis, an hour delay out of Baltimore meant that I would for sure miss my connecting flight out of Cincinnati. Together, Delta and I figured out that I should probably fly into Atlanta instead to ensure that I’d make it to Memphis that night.

Hercules could NOT hold me down! Picture via Pronk Palisades at

Hercules could NOT hold me down!
Picture via Pronk Palisades at

The only thing was that my layover in Atlanta was only 30 minutes…so that left NO time for error. My flight somehow LOST time in the air so by the time we landed and I got off the plane, I had 11 minutes to make it to my connecting flight. 11! I thought, “If I’m at Gate B11 and I only have to get to B18, surely I can make it seven gates in 11 minutes, right?” So they open the plane doors and I tear out of the gate! Hercules WILL NOT keep me from making it home for my Mom’s party! So I’m swiftly making my way through the gangs of people in the airport when an employee almost drove over me on one of those carts that transport elderly folks and rich people through the airport so they don’t have to walk. I couldn’t believe it…dude was texting while driving IN the airport! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I’d rather not die in the Atlanta airport cuz then I for sure won’t make it to my Mom’s party! I get to the gate right in time and, with what little breath I have left, I ask a woman standing in line, “Have they already started boarding for Memphis?” “No,” she said. “We’re headed to San Diego. The Memphis flight was delayed three hours.” Great. That’s just great.

I sat down to catch my breath and started watching the CNN coverage of Hercules on the TV at the gate. They interrupted that coverage several times to note that the flu epidemic was getting worse by the day…especially in the southeastern states. In fact, it went from 10 states being in whatever they equate with ‘official panic mode’ to 25 states (now I think that’s up to like 37) OVERNIGHT. And were Georgia AND Tennessee two of those 25 states? OF COURSE they were! I’m looking around the airport at all the people coughing and sneezing when I hear the man sitting across from me yell, “OH. MY. GOD. I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS! I’m about to record this and upload it to YouTube!” He pulls out his phone. The woman behind me whispered, “Awww. Bless his heart! I wonder if anybody is gonna help him…” I turned to see what all the commotion was about. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I’d NEVER seen anything like that in an airport!

To be continued…

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To Mexico and back, in one(?) piece. – Part 3

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Hoping for an uneventful remainder to my evening, I called the concierge and asked him to bring me a new key as fast as he could. It was hard to determine if it was better to stay in the room with the smoking strangers or stand outside with the frogs. I thanked the ladies and decided it was best to go outside to wait. You remember the song “Freaks Come Out at Night”, right? Well in Mexico, the FROGS come out at night! I mean, Kermit and ALL his homies were out in full effect EVERY night…like, EVERYWHERE. While waiting for the concierge and observing all the frogs on the steps and walls, I contemplated pulling the fire alarm. The purpose of this was two-fold: I could make the concierge get there faster if he thought my room was on fire, and I could scare all the frogs away. Then, not too far from the fire alarm, I spotted a fire extinguisher. Even better! I could use that to spray all the frogs away! Before I could act on either of those ideas, the concierge arrived with my new key. I retrieved it from him, said a quick prayer, closed my eyes, and RAN through the plague of frogs. I made it safely into my room without further incident.

Didn't have good pics of frogs on my phone, but had plenty of pics of iguanas the size of a triceratops.

Didn’t have good pics of frogs on my phone, but had plenty of pics of iguanas the size of a Triceratops.

Until the next day. While getting ready for dinner that evening, I plugged the curling iron in and waited a few minutes for it to get hot. It never did. I immediately thought, “There must be something wrong with this outlet, because there is certainly nothing wrong with my curling iron!” I unplugged the curling iron to try a different outlet and there was a huge spark and a thick puff of smoke! The bathroom went dark and so did the rest of the room. The TV and everything else in the room shut off. Hoping that I had not short circuited my room, I called the front desk to see if electricity all over the resort had been knocked out due to the hurricane. “No, we have electricity,” they told me. “I guess it’s just your room.” “Well, can you send someone to check things out and restore the power as soon as possible? I can’t do anything in the dark.” “Sure. We’ll be there in five minutes.” Fifteen minutes passed and there was no sign of anyone. I called back and asked for a status update. They reassured me that someone was on their way. I waited five more minutes and, with a useless curling iron, I put my hair in a ponytail (see #7 here for why that is such a big deal) and prepared to head out for dinner. About that time, there was a knock on my door. Maid service brought me two towels. Great. I got somebody’s towels and I guess they got my electricity.

Despite all the drama, I actually had a good time in Mexico. Once I landed back in the states, I strolled through Customs and Border Protection and headed towards the exit. BOY was I glad to be (almost) home! So glad, in fact, that I handed the fella my forms and pranced right on out the gates. One of the airport employees asked, “Ma’am, do you have all your belongings?” I said, “Well yeah. Everything except the luggage that I checked.” She said, “Okay…so….are you gonna pick up your luggage or….?” “Um. Yes. Yes, I am.” I did not realize that I had long since passed the point where international travelers were to pick up their luggage. I went back to the guy I’d given my forms to and told him I forgot my bag. As a matter of national security, I thought I’d really f’ed up! He looked me up and down, shook his head, and waved me back through. I went and picked up my sad little three-wheeled suitcase from the conveyor belt. Another woman claiming her bag was like, “Dang! They to’ yo’ bag UP, didn’t they?” “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Yes, they did.”

Anyway, I got home and thanked my lucky stars that even though my luggage died (and I almost didn’t get to claim it!) at least I didn’t get hurricaned to death, drowned by Jacuzzi flooding, warted by frogs, or electrocuted by a curling iron. I pulled out my passport to put it away…and it was covered in glitter. I mean COVERED. So that leads me to believe that maybe there were some parts of this Mexico trip that I don’t remember. Or maybe I remember and just don’t wanna tell you! ;)

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