saucy_dryad

Too hot and oppressive to type. Yeesh.

I really meant to have Orlando Vacation: Day the FIRST! up and posted. Unfortunately, life and hiking and re-spraining my ankle got in the way. So, too, did cooking a mildly mocked yet still delicious meatless dinner. What I'm saying, really, is that all I have to share with your are three wildly overexposed photos. Now, I ran them through PSE. They did not self-correct. Apparently I'm supposed to have some sort of input into the process. My computer will not do all the work for me. What is this world COMING to?

Whatever. Here, the kidlets and I meet the T-Rex in Jurassic Park. My youngest nephew is the only one who gets how important this moment really is.




If it's not worth a musical theatre pose, it's not worth living.




T-Rex and I have a moment alone. I can not contain my glee. He can not contain his teeth. Expect great things.








Glowing like a Cocoon alien/Smeyer Vampire, I offer him a Chocolate Frog.



He tells me I must not long for him, that I must eschew him for a creature of the Quaternary Age. After a moment, he adds that I really do smell most delicious.

My eyes dart to the Chocolate Frog.

I hightail it out of there.











It's also worth noting that people have very strong opinions about airlines, airports, and the business of air travel, and that among everyone's wide and varied experiences it's still clear that US Airways sucks.

While I’m itching to tell you all about our Orlando mini-break, I can’t do that without starting at the beginning. In turn, I really ought not talk about the beginning without getting into how it all ended.

Sorry, kids: pictures of Hogsmeade will have to wait on tales of transportation.

( floo powder: never travel without it )

So. The moral of the story is never fly US Airways, ever, unless you're keen on vast amounts of suck. Likewise eschew Stewart. Westchester isn't that much further away, and it has a LOT more flights while still being less horrible then the vast, hulking Newark and kin. Also, Westchester is where my dashing pilot Dad rescued a wee abandoned and abused kitty who became my psychotic feline BFF.






Heh. I may be a bit hazy on the 'moral of the story' thing.

The short answer is that our flight was cancelled.


( The long, considerably detailed answer (with subsequent events): )

My adorable and charming husband is booking an impromptu vacation for my birthday. He really is the loveliest creature. We're heading for sun and salt water (take that, psoriasis!), which is wonderful, but here's the thing: I don't have a bathing suit. And I need one. FAST.

Bathing suit shopping is stressful at the best of times. Last minute "I'll take whatever I can get!" shopping is exponentially less delightful. I'm checking out Newport News, since they seem to have stock available, but I have no idea what to buy.

In case you need a visual, here goes: I'm medium-tall with long legs (curvy thighs and skinny calves), a stumpy torso, generous hips and a bit of a belly (I'm - at the very, very least - five pounds more than I ought to be. More like fifteen if I'm being honest*). Bikinis are out. No way, no how. EVER. Tankinis are a possibility (for example. this or this). Is it better to go for a one-piece, though (as in this or this)? Or a swimdress (like this or this or, were I to magically lose those fifteen pounds in the next two weeks, this)?

meh. Off to scowl at tauntingly slim models some more.


*It's not all my fault, I swear. It's partly medication, partly other. Doesn't make me any less cranky. Someday I'll tell you all about it. We'll laugh and laugh...