And I wondered if the security staff could see all of the metal plates and bits and pieces that are in my body because let me tell ya...I have a lot.
This is a normal person's x-ray.
This is mine:
As I exited the x-ray machine, a nice stern, gloved manlywoman asked me to step aside for a little pat down. I immediately started blabbering about how my body was full of metal parts but she seemed more interested in patting my fanny. Apparently, my attempt at appearing sophisticated by wearing blingy backed jeans backfired. My bling made her machine go "ping." She gave me a stern loving caress, looked at my pockets and told me I was free to go. She didn't even give me an after-pat kiss or a cigarette!
I pranced through the airport until I found a place to eat since I was 2 hours ahead of my flight and my stomach was beginning to rumble louder than the jets around me. As I waited for my food, I scanned through my travel documents, trying to look very important; plus I don't like to eat alone because I feel like everyone is looking at me (dribble food down the front of my shirt). A man sitting nearby tried to strike up a conversation with me but the more I talked to him, the more I spit food out of my mouth and the more embarrassed I felt so I finally went back to reading my "important" paperwork. Once finished I made my way to the gate where I was instructed to go and waited. I thought it was a bit strange that the information on the screen at my gate showed the destination as another town versus where I was going. Finally I got up and asked the gate agent why the sign showed a different town than the one where I was going and I was informed that my gate was down the walkway...28 gates away!!! Of course, I then proceeded to perform the airport hustle and ran through the place like a cat on fire.
Once at my destination, I was super excited to see my fan-tab-ulous hotel room. I felt like the Queen of Sheba in that place! See?
Livin' large, people. Livin' large. Of course, one of the first things I did after unpacking was to christen the room as mine. Alllllllllllll mine.
Because I'm a very sophisticated woman.
The next few days were filled with hard work but they were fun because I had a great crew to work with. We were all fed like kings and I'm sure I went home a little heavier than when I arrived. I got to put in a good days work, meet some really nice people I had never worked with before, learn some new things, eat a ton of great food and live like a superstar. What more could a working girl ask for? To top it all off, I had a view of the ocean and was able to watch a couple of awesome sunrises.
Day 4 arrived and it was finally time to return home. I missed my kids and cats and Manchild of course, but in a way I wanted to stay for another week. I liked having clean sheets and a made bed every day. I liked the ocean breezes and the sound of seagulls. And of course, I liked the food. The only other time I've gotten room service was when I was in the hospital. And that doesn't really count because I was drugged out of my mind and hospital food isn't very tasty. But this place was a 4 star hotel and they had the food to prove it. Everything was just so clean and pretty and quiet and perfect unlike the chaos that is my home.
Once home I entered my home to find that it had been cleaned by my kidlet. She wanted me to return home to a sparkly nice environment - isn't that sweet? It's either sweet, or she had a huge party and was trying to hide the evidence. Either way, I was grateful. I've been home for a few days and have settled back into my normal routine and I have to admit that it's nice to be greeted by the cats and my dog when I get home. And the hugs I get from my family are priceless. Maybe I'll travel a few times a year just to remind me what living like a queen is like and to remind me that there's no place like home.