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Day one of my six-day vacation to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida to visit my friend Anne, a.k.a. Banana, Banana-Pants, Naner, Anner,
etc.
Monday, 3/29/99
Andy and I had to get up super-early to get to the Milwaukee airport. 4:00 a.m.--that's early for chimps like Andy!
But it was OK, and we left the house with little commotion.
Whenever I went on trips when I was little, I remember lying in my bed and the hall light always being on, and
not knowing if it was really early or really late--my mom was always doing the ironing or the last-minute packing.
Did she sleep? Probably not. But I have no trouble sleeping EVER--not even the night before a vacation.
The ride to the airport was quick--more so than we had planned. As a result, we got there really early. We ate
a greasy B.K. breakfast, washed down with hot chocolate from Starbucks. That meal pretty much set the tone for
the entire trip. OINK.
I am not one for drawn-out good-byes, so as soon as boarding started for my flight, I shooed Andy away. This doesn't
mean that I wasn't a bit choked up when I saw him standing near the window waving at me. We're still newlyweds,
right?
I was pleased to find I had been assigned an aisle seat, and I settled in with my fabulous US magazine. The boy in the window seat was apparently
going on a job interview, and was also an actor with lines to memorize.
Upon arriving in St. Lois, I made it my mission to find a phone to call my pet chimp. He was at work already, and
seemed safe, so I sped off to my next flight.
It was on this second flight that I was seated next to a small, fragrant man who seemed to believe that the armrest
existed solely for his enjoyment. As this was to be a lengthy flight, I was rude and asserted my territorial rights
as I opened my Monica
Lewinsky book and began to read.
Soon enough, a bag of food came my way, and I indulged in its pleasures. A turkey sammich, chips and a cookie were
mine to enjoy. Was it a fluke that tiny man received fruit and carrots with his sandwich? I think not.
Finally, finally, my plane landed in Ft. Lauderdale and I was in the arms of my beloved Banana. She carried me
away to a restaurant on the ocean called The
Oasis Cafe. We sat outdoors on a large picnic table type swing that rocked
back and forth. I told Anne I had never been so happy, and at that moment, it was true.
Our table was in the sun, but we were shaded by an awning, and Anne made sure we kept rocking. I sat back in my
bench and exhaled.
PWWWWWWFFFF!
Bye bye, school worries! Bye bye, teenagers! Bye bye, weight worries as I helped myself to a tall Bahama Mama. Yum! The moment was
so pleasant, I had to share it with Andy, who was just a cell phone call away.
After stuffing ourselves with conch fritters and chicken Caesar wraps, we removed our shoes and walked along the
beach. Aaah! I love water! I love sun and sand and being outside on days like this. What a happy change of pace
from Illinois and its gray, wintry scowl.
Soon enough, Anne and I were back in the car and headed for...a drive-by of her new house. It's a cute little house
in a cute little neighborhood and although Anne is horribly frightened of the color, she knows it is the perfect
little starter home for her little family of two.
Our next stop was Anne's school, where I fantasize about teaching. It is private, but not religious, and she has a small
class plus a part-time aide.
I love her 4th grade classroom, and we spent a lot of time sitting on the desks,
yappin' about what we like and don't like about teaching.
After we picked Eric up from work, we landed at their apartment, where we quickly changed into our bathing suits
and hopped into the apartment hot tub. I love hot tubs sooooo much for about 20 minutes, then I get sweaty and
cross. A dip in the big pool helped, and we happily splashed back and forth until we were waterlogged.
Back at the apartment, I took a shower and we looked at Anne's dreamy scrapbooks. I also got a preview of her newest
hobby--stamping. This proved to be too much for me to handle, and I excused myself to collapse into bed...after
reading another 30 pages of Monica, of course!
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