Category Archives: Ranting

I’ve Gotta Get Out Of This Place…

…if it’s the last thing I ever do-oooo….

Song stuck in your head yet?  Good.

But seriously–I need to get out of my house/town/state.  Very, very badly.  And as I sit here, on the edge of a four day weekend, I’m thinking there MUST be somewhere I can go.  I need to go somewhere.  If only for a few hours.

On my way to work this morning, a fox crossed my path.  I don’t really live anywhere all that rural, but I was taking a back road from breakfast to my school, and a fox darted–and I do mean darted–out in front of my car, and continued to run through the field on the other side of the road.  He was running really, really fast.  And for a moment, I became that fox, and understood that freedom.  I want that freedom very, very badly.  I need that freedom.

I think this is what they call cabin fever.

If, four days from now, I do not have a post titled something like ‘this is where I went today’, please feel free to post mean comments.  I’ll totally deserve them.


The Best and Worst Super Bowl Commercial

No, that’s not a typo in the subject line.  One of the best Superbowl commercials is also the worst Superbowl commercial.

The ‘Test Baby’ Home Away commercial was hysterical.  I laughed…for about three seconds.  I then paused in horror.

Home Away has a Superbowl commercial?  What does this mean?  Has everyone discovered the money to be saved renting a vacation home or apartment, rather than staying in a hotel?  Is this why two of the five apartments I inquired about in Amsterdam are already reserved…for August?!?

Ah well.  It was nice while it lasted.

For the record, the Google Tablet 1984-spoof-slash-Mac-burn commercial was also damn brilliant.

The Rant That Wasn’t

One day many years ago, a classmate of mine pulled me aside on our way out of a college class.  I think it was History of the English Language.  The class had been engaged in a lively debate about something I don’t remember; what I do remember was thinking that perhaps I was overly obnoxious in stating my opinions on whatever subject it was (I’m assuming it had something to do with feminism or Christianity, as those were hot-button topics for me in college.)  But instead of the girl confronting me about my uber-assertive stance on whatever it was, she thanked me.  She thanked me for ‘saying what everyone else was thinking, but many were afraid to vocalize’.

That was one of the best compliments I’ve ever recieved.

At some point in the last ten years, I lost that voice.  Blame it on my dislike of confrontation, or on the silence that typically comes with being a non-tenured teacher.  Fortunately, I’m getting that voice back.

I promised a rant something along the lines of ‘why I’m annoyed by some people on the Rick Steves message board’.  I’m not going to write that rant, because there is a difference between having a voice and being a jerk.  I am choosing the former.  What I will say–and I feel this goes along with having a voice, though correct me if I’m wrong–is this:

I was annoyed last night because someone–one single person I’ve never met–was stupidly rude to me on a message board.  I was very frustrated, and immediately remembered a lot about the down side of all online travel (and non-travel) forums.  However, I am not going to stop using said forum.  There are dozens–nay, hundreds–of extremely helpful, knowledgeable people on those boards.  I fully realize that I cannot control how others react to my honest questions.  But I can control how I respond to all comments, both the helpful and the not-so-much.

This is not to say that it won’t continue to bother me.  I wish we lived in a world where everyone followed ‘the golden rule’.  I’m not religious in any way, but I think this one simple teaching is really all that the world needs as a guideline.  Imagine if everyone actually treated others the way they would like to be treated.  Admittedly, it is a difficult rule to follow.  Even I waver in my ability to respond kindly to things that were not intended as kind.  But I will continue to try.  Wish me luck.

And speaking of luck–I’m going to try to talk my husband out of his need to add Prague to this next trip.  I’ve been having a surprisingly hard time convincing him to change his mind about anything lately.  It’s like he’s become all independent and confident and assertive.

I fear–and am honored–that he learned it by watching me!

Not Fun Anymore

Last night I got to the point where planning this trip went from fun to frustrating.  To be fair, the planning has had its frustrating moments already, but last night, the camel’s back broke.

I was very excited about Iceland Express.  It opened up a whole new world of considering London.  And I decided that London simply IS the other place we are going.  A week in London and two weeks in Paris.  Great trip.  Sign me up.  I watched Rick Steves PBS videos on London and the surrounding areas.  I swooned at thatched roof houses straight ‘outta the Shire.  I marveled at Oxford and Cambridge.  I googled ‘Literary Tours of England’.  I was a very, very excited English teacher.  And then I looked at lodging.  And more reviews of Iceland Express Air.  Cue bomb dropping and exploding sound.

This would be so much easier with unlimited resources.  And, to be fair, we are being super-budget conscious about this, and I think that’s a good thing.  But for $400 more than I’d like to spend, I could be done researching right…now.  Now.  I could be typing this as a person with all airfare and lodging booked and paid for.  Four.  Hundred.  Dollars.  And I’m starting to think that number is totally worth my time and sanity.

On the bright side, I think–I THINK–we’ve settled on London as the only option.  I’ve even stopped all of my other fare alerts.  But, again, until it is set in stone–meaning we have plane tickets–I will not fall asleep knowing our trip IS happening.  This is very, very frustrating.  That poor, poor camel.

A Vain Prayer

Dear god, gods, satan, buddha, Johnny Carson, and/or anyone who will listen,

Please do not let me turn into the woman standing in front of me in line at Kohls on this Sunday morning. Old gray sneakers, black socks, acid washed denim high-elastic-waist shorts, and a tucked in black button down shirt with pumpkins on it. Halloween pumpkins, to be specific. Jack-o-lanterns.