 |
| Hotel Paradisus |
You may not know this, but we are leaving the country in 2 days for Punta Cana in the Dominican Republic. Yup, we're going on a vacation with the fam. This vacation has been in the works for awhile now, we got a travel agent and everything.
**Side note: Our agent's first name was Don, short for Donahue (Don-a-hew), but for some reason my dad got it in his mind that it was pronounced Don-a-hoe. So every time he'd communicate with the agent he'd tell me: "I talked to the Don-a-hoe guy today and he said..." It amused me greatly that someone would be name Don-a-hoe.**
We booked the trip in March, and have been counting down the days ever since. Now that it's so close, I wrote a to-do list, on my trusted dry erase board, of things to get done:
I can say with satisfaction that most of the laundry is done:
 |
| It was a lot worse than this... |
The rooms are mostly clean:
I still have to tackle this beast of a master bedroom:
Wish me luck.....
I even cleaned the kitchen:
....which Chris immediately messed up when he decided to cook potatoes.
I finished the Doggy Do's and Don'ts for Molly, who is puppy/house sitting for us (Hi Molly, thanks!):
The pups have no idea what's about to happen to them.
There is just one *teensy*weensie*tiny*little thing that I have yet to get before we leave the country in TWO days. What is it? I'll give you a clue: It's a small blue book that is required for entries and exits between countries. If you guessed a passport, you're correct.
Chris, of course, didn't have to change his name after we got married; or get a new passport which involved getting a new picture, sending in $110, and the necessary paperwork.
Nope, Mr. Happy pants just has to pull it out of the drawer and show up to the airport on time:
Hi, Honey! Your smile seems a little smug to me!
If I seem slightly bitter it's because I've been waking up at 2:30AM for the past 3 weeks due to stress. I rarely let things get to me, or get me freaked out and stressed out so much I can't sleep. But about 2 and 1/2 weeks ago I got a letter in the mail saying the marriage license I sent in was not certified.
So Chris went and got an 'official-certified-oh dear God please let this work or we can't go to the Dominican Republic' marriage certificate, and we over-nighted it back to the passport jerks and waited....and waited...and waited. I called and paid Seventy-two bucks to have my paperwork expedited, THEN I called every single day to find out when I could expect my passport I tried to impress upon them that we were leaving in less than two weeks and I
REALLY needed that passport.
Finally, in an act of desperation, I called the great state of Missouri's senator, Roy Blunt, and was disappointed to discover I wouldn't actually be talking to him but his office workers. However, they assured me with the upmost confidence I would receive my passport. I spent last week nursing an ulcer, drinking one to many glasses of wine and waking up at 2:30AM on the dot
every. single. night.
Then, Friday morning, I received the most blessed news: I had a tracking number.
I tracked the number, and learned my passport was already in Joplin- set to arrive tomorrow:
If you thought Saturday was windy, it was probably me breathing the biggest sigh relief EVER breathed. And guess what? Last night, I had the BEST night sleep EVER slept; and I probably looked like this:
