I'm not a travelling girl

I got back from Boston (and Rockport) on Sunday evening. It was a great conference on user experience and the web but I was more than ready to be home. I've suspected for a while now that I am not a traveller at heart.

To start I don't love flying. I remember that I loved it when I was younger but now the stress of all of the airport dealings and then being crammed in with other people for hours just doesn't work for me. Although I did get to watch 2 movies since the flight to Toronto is long enough for that.

Hotels are also not a huge perk to me. Maybe all that "nesting" that an ex's mother accused me of has paid off since I enjoy being in my own space more than almost anyplace else. I like puttering around my kitchen and eating out more than once a week is too much for me. I like having the dog take up too much of the bed. I like knowing how to set the shower temperature without even thinking about it (even though at least one of the taps is backwards). And I even like my monstrosity sectional and my smaller than the new average television.

Before I went to Boston I didn't know that it had a reputation for being unfriendly. I struggle with the descriptor "rude" since that's not totally accurate. There were some people who were outright rude but mostly people were just "inhospitable". Answers to questions were minimal at best; there were no friendly suggestions of what to see or where to eat and for the first time ever none of the cabdrivers I rode with said a word to me. Two of them continued on their cellphones and one just looked put out that I was occupying the back seat. No one asked where I was from (other than other conference attendees) or offered any pleasantries about the weather (which was beautiful), sports scores or anything else.

Further up the coast in Rockport people were friendlier although not over the top. There was a more relaxed feeling there though and it was much easier to find things as it often is in smaller towns. I did arrive by train to discover that cabs only exist in the next town and are never really called which meant a 1 mile walk to the bed and breakfast and the same walk back before dawn on the day I had to depart. The lady who ran the bed and breakfast was kind of eccentric and the place was far from clean but had an eclectic charm. On my last night I found a spot that sold whole lobsters ready to eat - usually out back on the deck but since it was chilly mine got to come back to my room. The navy was in town but they all looked like high school boys so there was no risk of any of them joining me!

It is always nice to see other places and to appreciate them for their differences. The architecture was different and beautiful; Calgary seems to knock down anything old and here was a place that continues to build new homes in the old style! The fall colors included more reds than we see here. And you could smell the ocean.








But I am still happy to be home.

It's a long ways to Boston...

isn't that how the song goes?

And no, you don't grow out of getting motion sick. Stupid mountains...bumpy all the way to the Saskatchewan border. At least the pilot called it bumpy. I called it a lot of things intermixed with a prayer about not puking in public, on a plane, with no escape from the humiliation...only thing worse would be exposing the waxing mishap results.

Don't try this at home

There are some things better left to the experts; apparently waxing is one of them.

You know that moment when you think, "Oh crap, I'm going someplace where there might be a pool" (or ocean or waterslides or whatever) and there are areas which will be exposed that are not otherwise out in the public arena. And of course these areas have not been made ready for this exposure and you have no time to find a professional to sort out that situation.

Well, that is not the time to think, "I'm sure I had a couple of wax strips from trying to do my legs left in the cupboard." Because that thought is what will result in you not only dealing with self-inflicted pain but also a mess of sticky goop stuck places other than on the wax strip where it belongs. Which means you will hobble into the shower and think, what were the tricks that mom used to unstick things? and then think, I really can't put peanut butter there when I have to drop the dog off somewhere with another dog and thanksgiving dinner in under 2 hrs.

Pool or no pool, the tears have stopped but there is no way I will be revealing greasy, bruised and bright red areas to the world.

Note to self, tip the esthetician extra in future.

There's only one place they call me one of their own...

And only one place where time flies and I don't even take much for pictures because I'm busy doing stuff!

"So what, I'm still a rock star, I've got my rock moves..." (and yes, my older brother thinks I'm nuts)

And there was also running....

We also did the 5km Run for the Cure and finished in under 45 minutes somehow. We didn't run the whole way but I suspect it was my sister's insistence that we walk faster and get by people...there were about 5600 people participating.

Now I'm packing and flapping since I am headed to Boston tomorrow on the red-eye. I don't know how I keep ending up on the early flights considering I am not a morning person! On the way home I actually caught myself leaning forward and snoring....so much for the attractive gentleman sitting in the seat next to me!

I also played in a soccer game this week. The other ladies had played the three nights before as well so I'm not real impressed that I kept up....but I kept up! Looks like I will be playing defense...right after I figure out how to pay the fees that are double what they are "back home"!