My Disney Vacation, Part 1: The Bad News

I'll give you the bad news first.  And isn't there a saying about bad news always coming in threes?

Bad

About two weeks out from our trip I got an email from the brand new B Resort in Downtown Disney, that they would not be making their Grand Opening deadline, and my reservation that included sheets that had never been slept in and bunk beds for the kids and environmentally conscious amenities was transferred over to the Buena Vista Palace and Spa.  They even footed the daily resort fee for which I hadn't yet paid.

On a "Bad" scale of 1-10, this was about a 3.  Disappointing, but the Palace was nice.  People were friendly.  Came with its own character breakfast.  Nobody necessarily went out of their way, but I have no complaints.  (Okay, one complaint, but I've noticed it at other places...Why do nice hotels still have analog cable?  Most of the channels barely come in.  If it had been any other type of vacation that would have been a serious point deduction, but we pretty much all fell asleep as soon as we got in bed each night.)

Worse

3:30 pm flight on a Wednesday.  Picked Oldest up from school a little early under the premise that we had to drop Dad at the airport before heading to an orthodontist appointment.  Pulled into long-term parking at about 2:00 pm and delivered the surprise before rushing them in with their new carry-ons only to be told the flight was delayed. They needed Maintenance to check the seal on the cargo hold door.  Ended up leaving the airport a little after 5:00 pm.

On the "Bad" scale of 1-10, this was a 6.  Nobody likes flight delays, but I guess delayed is better than losing my luggage over Georgia (or worse).  The main problem was that on the original plan, we would have gotten checked into the hotel just in time for a late dinner and maybe a stroll around Downtown Disney.  The new plan didn't have us even landing until about 7:30 pm.

Absolute Worst

I had pre-ordered our rental car through Priceline.  Had a good rate at Avis for a mid-sized car.

I used to be an Avis Preferred Member, back in my E&Y days that had me commuting to Augusta, GA every week. I would arrive at the Atlanta airport on a Sunday evening and my car would be running in the parking lot.  One time they even gave me a cute little Mitsubishi Spider convertible that they had sitting on the lot.  Just handed me the keys and told me to enjoy.

Now I don't know how Avis at the Orlando airport treats its "preferred customers", but I can tell you that they treat the rest of us peons like shit.

First, I stood in line for roughly thirty minutes.  It seemed as though everyone in front of me must not have already had a reservation and were completing new paperwork and making all the decisions I had already made a month ago.  This was not the case.

What was really going on, was that each customer was getting a hard-sell on an upgrade.  When it was my turn, my associate wondered if I would like to get a Lincoln Navigator instead of my Jetta sedan.  It was normally $300/day, but he could get it for only $50/day more than what I was paying. (Doing the math, that's an extra $200 Avis would like to tack on to my Disney World vacation.)

"No, thank you."

"But you will be in Orlando for only four day.  Don't you want to ride around in luxury instead of squeezed into that tiny little Jetta?"

Um, not long ago, I OWNED a Jetta that I squeezed into with my family of four EVERY DAY, so no, a frickin' NAVIGATOR is not necessary.

"No, thank you.  I will take the car I reserved."

"Oh, well, let me see if I can get you an upgrade somewhere in between."  And before I could say another word, he was gone.  Disappearing to "check with his manager" on what deal he could swing me. After I lost approximately an equal amount of time to Daylight Savings, he returned to give me his offer, which I promptly, but politely refused.

"I would just like the car that I ordered, please."

When I also refused to pay for additional rental insurance (at this point, it was on principle), the rest of the transaction was completed with an attitude that I will generously call "cool".

I should also point out that all of the above conversation had to be repeated several times, because the associate refused to speak up over the general noise of the airport.  I can only assume this was to frustrate me enough that I would finally just agree to whatever he was mumbling.

I was then told to have a seat.  They would need to bring my car up and it would take approximately ten to fifteen minutes.  He would come get me when it was here.

Excuse me?  The car I pre-ordered and pre-paid to be ready for me when my flight was supposed to land at 6:00 pm, is now, at 8:00 pm (because I've already wasted a half hour with these people), not on the premises? What. The. Hell.

I simmered in my chair with my two hungry children and not-on-his-ideal-vacation husband.  For the full fifteen minutes and then some.  My associate had not moved from the desk.  I walked back up and stood to the side not looking forward to the glares I would get from other customers if I appeared to be "cutting" in line.

A couple who's associate had just walked away turned to me and said, "You don't want this guy.  He keeps trying to upgrade us instead of giving us our car.  If I were you, I'd talk to the man with the radio.  He seems to be the only one allowed to make decisions."

So I sauntered down to the All Powerful and asked for my car.  Curiously, he didn't even know I was waiting for my car.  AP wondered who was helping me, and as I pointed the associate out, he magically walked down and handed my contract over.  Oh...I guess my car is ready now and after loosely interpreting the insufficient directions to get to said car we were finally on our way.  We ate dinner at 9:30 pm.  That was BEFORE we checked into the hotel.

On the "Bad" scale of 1-10, this hit the limit.  And because no one even had the decency to APOLOGIZE to me for my wait, I would actually push it up to 11.

Rest assured the rest of our vacation was phenomenal, if a little haphazard.  But all the goodwill that Avis had worked up with me over my many years of business travel, completely evaporated after that excruciating hour in Orlando.  Congratulations, I would prefer to walk barefoot on hot tar while carrying both my children on my back than drive one of your cars again.

My Two Loves

(Disclaimer: I'm pretending that I haven't taken a year off of blogging and just jumping right back in.)

Lately I've been trying to decide which I passionately hate more:  Common Core math or PCAOB Auditing Requirements for Internal Controls around Financial Reporting.

I know there are people out there that will argue that the way we learned basic addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division back in the day (flashcards and School House Rock) was a gross disservice to our tiny little minds.  I know they are out there, but I haven't met them.

Yes, if you couldn't memorize math facts, you really weren't given any other option.  I get that could have left some students behind and I feel for them.  I honestly do.  But I'm not sure how making a student who DOES instinctively know a math fact learn four different ways to come up with the same answer any better?

And its no longer enough to know the answer.  You have to explain WHY you know the answer.  Math has become a creative writing assignment. (So if you aren't particularly good at spelling, grammar or expressing yourself in writing, you might as well pack up your crayons and go home.)

And then there is the constant state of distrust, second guessing and mis-communication that is otherwise known as coordinating an external audit with a Big 4 accounting firm.  Because if you didn't write it down, you didn't do it.  And if you did write it down, but nobody checked your work it can't be relied upon. And if you did write it down, and someone checked your work, it's quite possible that you're both wrong because neither of you checked to see if the system you got the information from in the first place was not compromised by disgruntled parents of common core students.

So for the fun of it I'm going to take an extremely egregious common core problem and apply the audit standards. Yes, this is an actual text book problem I got from on the line in the internets.

"Juanita wants to give bags of stickers to her friends.  She wants to give the same number of stickers to each of her friends. She's not sure if she needs 4 bags or 6 bags of stickers.  How many stickers could she buy so there are no stickers left over?"

(Disclaimer 2:  I'm not sure for what grade this question was intended, but obviously the answer is that Juanita shouldn't hand out stickers unless she has enough for the whole class.  Just for her friends?  That's horse shit!)

(Disclaimer 3:  I LOVE story problems.  They were probably my favorite part of math. I used to do brain teaser grids for fun!  You wish you were my friend.  I do NOT know the actual answer to the above problem, which I can only hope was just a large copy editor fail.)

So is she buying BAGS of stickers or is she buying INDIVIDUAL stickers? Has she consulted a working group and presented the cost benefit analysis of bags v. individual before making that decision?  Did she get the board of directors to approve for her final decision? Was it documented in the minutes and physically signed off by a member of the board?

Because if she's BUYING bags of stickers and she want to GIVE them bags of stickers, this is a no brainer.  Oh, except for the fact that we don't know how many friends she has.  Or how many less friends she will have if she doesn't buy the right number of fucking stickers.

And how much do these stickers cost?  Does she even have enough money? Has she explained the variance between the amount of money she budgeted to spend with the actual amount and escalated a variance larger than 5% of the total assets to an SVP for further review and approval?

What's the fair market value of those stickers.  Did she verify the price of stickers at Target is the same as the price of the stickers at Walgreens?  What if she buys the stickers on Friday and they are marked down on Monday?  Should she go buy more stickers or recognize the loss of value in her Income Statement.

And how do we know if the stickers that she gave out are the complete population of stickers?  Did she have an independent party count the number of stickers she gave away and balance them back to control totals around the original amount of stickers she had on hand?

What if her ass hat brother replaced the unicorn stickers with pieces of green painters tape (the kind that doesn't leave a residue when you pull it off the wall, of course)?  Because I can guarantee you if I got a bag of pieces of painter's tape I'm going to file a complaint with the SEC and Juanita's going to have a lot of explaining to do around her general access controls at the next shareholders meeting.  You suck, Juanita.  Stop buying stickers and put a lock on bedroom door!

I'll take my meds now.  And by meds, I'm referring to Oreos and milk.

Momnesia Strikes Back

Things I Forgot Today:

Brush my teeth. (Chewing an entire pack of Trident White with Micro Crystals is just as effective, right?)

Write Morgan a note to stay after school for Brownies. (I did finally remember to call the office at 10:30 this morning to tell them despite the fact that I told Morgan I would call them when I put her on the bus this morning.)

Tell my sitter Morgan won’t be coming home on bus because of Brownies. (Which I only remembered after starting this list of things I forgot.  Yes, I started the list this morning, so that I wouldn’t forget all the things I had forgotten.  It makes sense.)

Pick my employee badge up off the kitchen counter before leaving for work. (I just had to go back and edit that sentence because I had felt the need to capitalize Employee Badge.  Why?)

None of the above is probably as bad as forgetting to go my brother’s Halloween party.  But, damnit, that’s why Evite was invented! Stop texting me shit!

To be fair, even when I “remember” I have to do things, I usually put them off for more exciting things like FAS91 standard costing walk throughs (so I keep getting paid) or cleaning out my DVR (so I can make sure that future episodes of Sleepy Hollow are able to be recorded even though its one of the few shows I typically watch live) or looking up how much a picture of a dead president is worth on eBay (so I can stop getting paid for ass numbing FAS91 walk throughs).

To illustrate, I have a list of personal “to do” items tracked in a notebook I use to manage my work projects.  (Yes, I hand write things in a notebook despite the many technological advances that society has made.  If I don’t write it down, it means you never asked me to do it.)  The majority of these personal items may or may not have been placed on this list at the beginning of the summer…2012.  (Kidding, it was this summer, but now it doesn’t seem so bad, right?)

Order contacts.  (Quite frankly it was a miracle that I actually finally got my eyes examined in order to obtain the most recent prescription.  I currently still occasionally wear the free pair that was given to me to try out.  In May.)

Swim lessons.  [Timeline of events:  Five Seasons closed prompting my need to find a new swim instructor (April).  Swim Team started, delaying my need for a new swim instructor (June).  Swim Team ended without finding a new swim instructor (August).]

Indian Princesses.  (First two events of the season conflicted with plans we already had.  Can I still sign Zoe up?  Is there anything even left to do?  Worst mom of the year.  I asked her to pick between Daisies and Indian Princesses and then I pull this crap.  Only thing I have going for me is that she has completely forgotten about it, too.)

Tour de Bay wrap up.  (Hey, this just ended on Labor Day.  I’m actually not that far behind.  Rest assured I will have everything settled before Memorial Day 2014. Or I will have Emmie do it.)

Instagram photos.  (This was originally for me to upload all my Instragram photos into an app that will allow me to print them at Walgreens, but really can apply to any and all photos still housed on my phone.  It goes without saying that I will lose my phone before this actually happens.  So it’s a good thing that I post to Facebook.  Constantly.  You’re welcome.)

In related picture news…Order photos.  (Girls had a great session with a new photographer.  In August.  Turned out cute and I did make small prints at Walgreens right away.  But then I kept changing my mind on which ones I wanted to choose larger prints to have framed.  Next time I’m going to tell the photographer to only send me the best three pictures so I don’t have to make decisions.)

Morgan vision test.  (Guess what?  I scheduled this today!  And I’ve only had the note from the school vision screenings for less than a week! Check, check, check.  Okay, that only get’s one “check.”  I was just trying to make myself feel better.)

A note to fellow Kindergarten and 3^rd grade moms.  Or at least the ones that are more organized than me.  If you could just at all times assume I don’t know what the fuck is going on, and send me reminders, that would be awesome.  

Through the Eyes of a Child

You know a family trip is always good fodder for blogs.   I could go on for paragraphs about the woman on the plane that asked Scott not to recline his seat because he was "invading her space."  Or the classy hotel rooms that still have analog televisions and can't even bother to comp you a lousy muffin for breakfast.

And then there was the Zombie Apocalypse.

But really we just had an amazing weekend with friends and family in Denver, CO for Matt and Robin's wedding and I refuse to taint it with my cynicism and hunger for brains.

Instead...I give you a little look into all the festivities as seen through my five-year-old's camera lens.  All these pictures were taken by her.  There were 68 pictures in total.  Here are the best of the best.

REHEARSAL

the happy couple

flower girl and groom

parents of the groom

reader and bridesmaid

niece of the bride and official ring bearer escort

best man

random

bride (she'll love that one)

officiant

groomsman

groom's family

groom and father

selfie with sister of the groom

coordinator

jesus...sorry, groomsman

WEDDING RECEPTION

random

friend

decorations in the cocktail tent

shoes she wants

cousin of the groom

selfie

best man and father of the groom

selfie with help from aunt kelly

her drink

kissing

surprised

sad

mad

happy

(the above emotions were under the direction of the photographer.  you're welcome, kel and jay)

friends

bride and some guy who's brains got eaten by zombies

find the banjo player

pastor larry

MORNING AFTER

ring bearer

Wishing all the best to Matt and Robin.  It was so special to be involved in your day and meet new friends and family.  A beautiful ceremony and a couple great parties!  

"Once in a while, right in the middle of life, love gives us a fairy tale."

Here's to happily ever after.

Hello...Is It Me You're Looking For?

Things That Have Pissed Me Off Since We Last Spoke:

Any extreme shift in weather.
Puppies destroying my gladiolas.
Getting up to go to work.
Being at work.
Talking about work at home.
Third grade math homework.
The existence of laundry.
Anything to do with the bobbin on my sewing machine.
DJ Madison on Sirius Alt Nation.

Things That Have Made Up For The Things That Piss Me Off:

All the awesome fall days we have had before the official start of fall.
Puppies wagging their tails so hard that their whole butts shake.
Leaving work.
Getting notification of an etsy sale.
...there is nothing that makes up for the existence of laundry.
Finishing a sewing project. Even if I may or may not have made a slightly important miscalculation.
DJ Archie AKA "The Black Mr. Rogers" on 87.7 in the morning.

I'm not kidding.  That is his name. You can look it up.  From a technical standpoint he is not that great a DJ, but he makes up for it in sheer randomness and moxy.  Whatever they pay Madison over at Sirius should be siphoned over to him because when she speaks I want to reach through the radio and pull out her vocal chords.  Maybe it's just me.

In other news...

I have become the official pace setter for the bus stop.  This is due to the scientific fact that the speed of walking for third grade girls is directly disproportional to the speed of their chatting.  I thought that after week one I could just let them walk by themselves, but I'm pretty sure if I don't walk with them halfway, they won't even make it to the end our block let alone the bus stop before transportation arrives.

In way other news...

I shop at Goodwill and I'll tell you why.  People throw away nice things.  But also, because it is my best bet for grabbing a flat sheet with big flowers on it made popular in the 70's that I can turn into a quilt or a shopping tote.  Yellow is my favorite.  And yes, I am aware that Goodwill is not a charity.  The CEO is raking in millions of dollars a year.  He's not hiding it, people.  Get over it.  Go to Salvation Army with your principles (or principals - it's my first day back, give me a break).

So yesterday I am at Goodwill in North Olmsted and I notice that one of the employees is helping another employee who happens to have special needs.  The older employee is being really sweet, making whatever their task was almost into a game and I think, Wow.  For all the grief this place gets, how great is it that they have given this person a place to go and a sense of accomplishment?  And how great is this other lady for being so patient even though it is probably making her task ten times longer than it usually is?

...And that is why I even noticed what they were actually doing which was just going through the racks of clothes and Employee 1 would ask Employee 2 what color the tag was.  Based on that color they would leave it or put it in a cart.

Then I noticed the "color of the week".  If a tag is Pink, you get that item for $1 instead of the price on the tag.  If the tag is Green, you get 50% off.  I realized that every time they came to a Pink one they were putting it in a cart to take it off the rack.  Seriously?!  My lack of faith in humanity is restored.  But I did manage to grab a Pink-tagged dress for my Halloween costume before it was whisked away. Booyah!

Finally...

If anyone needs me I'll be busy perfecting my water bowl cover prototype made specifically for dogs with droopy ears.  That is the scientific term.  The following sketch is copywrited (copywrote?) and on file with the US Patent Office.  I turned down a million dollars from the Swiffer guy.

The Right Stuff

The morning after I posted my previous blog I was reminded what Archie meant.  It is pretty funny, but it will keep. 

Right now…

...from the eyes of a 39-year-old mother of two with limited concert experience outside the Dead/Phish/DMB crowd with the exception of an N*SYNC concert over TEN years ago (holy shit, has it been that long?). 

Sidebar: N*SYNC doesn’t count because we were older than most of the audience and therefore unable to be rude.  And we had not so good seats.  And we were still young enough to be ashamed of ourselves. 

At some point in the evening, once NKOTB came on stage, I decided I better start taking notes, because I wasn’t sure I was going to remember anything other than the ringing in my ears.  Here is a transcription of those notes…

Bon jovi dead or alive

Do French kidsin

Joey please don’t go

Jordan need a fan

Jn singing for the first time ever

Joe FAITH

Jrdn kiss

Do. It’s getting hot in here

Dirty dancing

Do throws shirt.  Biscuit

Games

I do t care cat I live it.

Surprisingly enough, this all makes perfect sense to me.  But I have to back up a little, because the evening started well before this with the following facebook status “I feel like I’m getting ready for the prom.”  

Do you remember that feeling?  Waiting for that big photo op in someone’s parent’s back yard.  Putting on more make up in one night than you wore for the entire year combined.  Refraining from putting your hair in a ponytail.  Okay, I may have been a bit of a tomboy.

After lengthy debates around transportation, hotel rooms, and next morning obligations, we chose to take a cab downtown at 5 pm – two and a half hours before the show started – in order to grab dinner and drinks prior to entering the arena.

Clearly, we were not the only people with this plan.  Clearly. 

It is hard to describe this scene with unbiased accuracy. Because I would like to call every woman other than ourselves a hoochie.  However, I do know other people who attended the show that don’t fall into this category, so I probably should give some of these females the benefit of the doubt and assume they just wanted to get some liquor into them the same as me.

Since each restaurant on the street was bursting at the seams (including an HOUR wait at Corner Alley – why?  why would you wait that long at a bowling alley?) I made the executive decision to head towards the casino where we enjoyed our drinks two at a time after our B-Spot burgers and counted how many people were walking around with little Cuisenart hibachi grills????

Here is where I want to let you know that NKOTB concert goers fall into three categories of fashion:

Message Tees – either a concert t-shirt they have kept since the 80’s or a handmade job commanding “Donnie give me some grown man love” (not making that shit up).

Too Cool for School – the beotches that come dressed like they are clubbing (which I guess technically they could have been).  If you can pull it off, more power to you.  I just can’t imagine going to a concert in stilettos, minis and cleavage (well, maybe cleavage).  Perhaps that’s the hippy chick in me.

Just Trying Not to Look 40 – This would be my group.  Let’s just say some are more successful than others.  (I will admit there is an extremely small minority that can actually somehow look cool.  I’m pretty sure it’s not me.)

Once we felt ready (read: had consumed four drinks each) we walked back to the arena where Boys II Men had started playing, grabbed two beers each (basically, everything came in pairs for the evening in case that wasn't clear) and found our seats, which were twelve rows up behind the chairs at center stage.  This.

And technically it really WAS like prom because I’m pretty sure Boys II Men ballads were a requirement at ours.  I also gave G the “It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday” single cassette tape as a graduation gift.  Classy.

I am pleased to report that I apparently do not know a single 98 Degrees song (no, I do not know how to get the degree symbol on my keyboard, is there a special code?).  This is in spite of the fact that I actually own Nick Lachey’s solo album and watched Newlyweds fairly religiously.

The best part of this act though, is when they brought four “lucky ladies” on stage and each band member took turns singing to them.  One of them was seriously heading into an 1800’s fainting spell and I feared she’d break her neck falling off the bar stool.  I hope one of her friends had a paper bag for her to breathe into after Nick got to her.

And then…the moment we were waiting for.  After I peed for the five hundredth time.  OH!  I almost forgot.  All restrooms were changed into Women’s.  Well, I’m sure they left a couple Men’s but we walked into the closest one and I couldn’t believe it only had four stalls, but then I looked around the other wall and there was a row of urinals.  HA!

It is pretty much a blur for the remainder of the night so I’m proud of myself for taking those notes which probably start about halfway through the NKOTB set when they had their band on the center stage and occasionally slipped into doing covers, including what you thought was going to be Bon Jovi’s “Dead or Alive” but thankfully turned into something else, Joey singing George Michael’s “Faith”, Jordan singing Prince’s “Kiss” and Donnie doing Nelly’s “It’s Gettin’ Hot in Here” (of course he did).

And of course somewhere in there is D Dub having a make out session with some chick in the VIP area. (Do French kidsin, according to my notes), Joey Joe belting “Please Don’t Go, Girl” in slightly lower key than the original, Jordan in his traditional video stance that requires a fan to be blown at his billowing shirt and…wait for it…

Jonathon Knight SINGING.  If you are friends with me on facebook and braved playing my YouTube video of this rare phenomena, you already knew that.  For those that don’t understand the significance…Jon does NOT sing solo.  EVER.  And he cannot dance his way out of a paper bag.  He was basically in the group so there was never a tie when they voted on something.  And to look pretty.  And to pretend to be straight with Tiffany so they could have a love child that now works in my department.

At some point near the end of the show D Dub tears his shirt off and throws it into the crowd.  Riots ensue.  Biscuit gets involved.  (Biscuit is the name of the bodyguard that was in their cartoon.  Yes, I know this!)  Donnie is oblivious to the mayhem he creates.

Further insanity rages when the rap portion of “Games” is upon us (which I still pretty much have memorized thankyouverymuch).

And you may be wondering what “I do t care cat I live it.”means?  But it was really just them playing the song “I Love It” while they got ready for the “Hangin’ Tough” finale.  Not even sure why I felt the need to note it, although I do recall having to seriously pee again at that point.

And then it was over.

Depression. Sets. In.

Back, huh, stronger than ever, you think we'd sever? 

Never, we're too clever to be taken down clown 

By your ignorant state of mind, I ain't blind but 

Every time I look I find you dissin' a mission that 

Strictly be righteous, we gotta fight this so now I think I might just 

Take a stand, man, like never before, and I'm sure 

That we'll endure so now it's time to even the score 

I hear you knocking me but you ain't shocking me 

'cause jealousy is telling me that you're just jocking me 

So keep on talking skee, with pride I'm walking see, 

Because on anybody's block is where I'm gonna be rockin' gee. 

For real, yo!

Time Warp

Just when I thought I had lost the will to blog...we went to Skate World.

And then twenty-seven other things happened to prevent me from blogging.  And then there was The Package and I knew I desperately needed to document that experience for posterity.  And then forty-six other things happened.

But now I'm back.  What am I skipping over in my month-long hiatus?  The end of my Early Childhood PTA tenure, Zoe's preschool graduation and birthday party, starting a new website for our salvage hobby, taking the girls to see Iron Man 3 after bed time, and a shit ton of soccer (official measurement).

I also wrote down in my blog notes the word "archie".  What the hell is that?  I have no idea.  Maybe I can't read my own writing.  All I can think of when I read that is Archie comics with Betty and Veronica.  I hope it's not something important.

Anyway, back to Skate World.  Yeah, I'm actually going to postpone The Package post for the moment and hopefully I get to it before next month.

Skate World should have been like a coming home to me as I headed out to Lorain County.  Even though I probably frequented the Skate LAND rink out in the boonies of Oberlin more often, it was pretty much the twin to this Skate World and there was definitely a rush of nostalgia.

Followed closely by a wave of nausea and a strong desire to shower.

It is sad to say I've grown quite accustomed to my little bubble of suburban middle class life from the moment I stepped onto my college campus.  Even though I spent three years in the armpit of Ohio (AKA Toledo) and then my required stint in Lakewood, I've been tucked in nice and cozy in Small Town, USA for going on seven years, which is really just a more "mature" version of Miami U.

So here we are for a roller skating party in something more along the lines of Napoleon Dynamite.  The smell of sweaty feet is a little over powering.  The feel of shag carpeted walls and grimy waxed wood makes me wonder if I should have gotten the girls an extra vaccination before this expedition.

It does not help that there was about 200% humidity in the air, reducing every surface to soggier versions of themselves, including my epidermis.

I am not exaggerating when I say this is how I left the place in 1984.  The only thing missing is an epic hair band ballad blasting through the speakers.  (I think they might have actually been playing an Alt Rock station).

Morgan immediately rolled up the pants she had on over her knees.  No slave to fashion, that one.  Zoe on the other hand, was ready for a roller derby.  If that is, she had any ability to skate whatsoever.

So I spent the next two hours attempting to guide fifty pounds of sweaty limbs and torso around a rain forest condition rink on the most hideous brown skates known to man.  Why brown?  Why not black?  Why did the 70's insist on orange and brown as their theme color?

Since this all happened over a week ago, I guess it is safe to say we haven't come down with diphtheria, gangrene or fleas.  Additionally, we didn't break any bones.

When we first tied the skates I gave the warning "Remember, this is how Barbie broke her arm last week.  Try to fall on your butt, not your hands."  I really need to stop handing out flip advice to Morgan, because she immediately slid into panic room melt down.  

But guess what?  Despite all of the above, we all had a great time.  I'm just going to make a note that roller skating is NOT a summer downpour activity.