I have to begin by letting you know that I'm not at all as educated in all things Political as ought to be. That is something I'm hoping to remedy in the future, but as it stands, I'm not well versed in the subject other than a simple beginners knowledge.
That being said, I voted in the last election, I was proud to do it. It is a freedom that was hard come by, as a nation, and also as women. It's something I've heard people complain about, and I haven't always done my fair share, but I want to. I don't know what the next four years will bring, I don't pretend to know or make predictions, but I have to admit that it makes me sad to hear states are petitioning for succession from the Union. I stand by a statement I heard long ago in a Elementary school children's program, "United we stand, divided we fall."
I saw the movie 'Lincoln' tonight, and it was a clear reminder that there is so much I do not know about our country's history and the people who played a part in it. But the Civil War was awful and horrible, and there were a lot of states at that time who thought leaving the Union was the answer. It wasn't then, I don't think it is now.
Tonight's title is in reference to the book 'Rilla of Ingleside' that I just finished listening to today. It was a favorite book when I was younger, the last one of the Anne of Green Gables series that literally wished wouldn't ever end.
Anne's son and Rilla's brother, Walter, was one of my favorite characters in the book, and as the book is written about the time of the Great War (WWI) all of Anne's boy's enlist to help England and the Allies fight against Germany.
*Spoiler*
In it, Walter is killed, fulfilling his once childhood vision of the Pied Piper, coming to call the Valley's children to follow him. He some time after his death, Rilla receives a letter from him with the following words:
"I saw the Piper coming down the Valley with a shadowy host behind him. ...last night I saw him again. I was doing sentry-go and I saw him marching across No-man's land from our trenches to the German trenches-the same tall shadowy form, piping wierdly-and behind him followed boys in khaki. ...Rilla, the Piper will pipe me 'west' tomorrow. I feel sure of this. And Rilla, I'm not afraid. When you hear the news, remember that. I've won my own freedom here-freedom from all fear. ...Yes, I'm glad I came, Rilla. It isn't only the fate of the little sea-born island I love that is in the balance--nor of Canada, nor of England. It is the fate of mankind. That is what we're fighting for. And we shall win--never for a moment doubt that, Rilla. For it isn't only the living who are fighting--the dead are fighting too. Such and army cannot be defeated. ...And you will tell your children of the Idea we fought and died for--teach them it must be lived for as well as died for, else the price paid for it will have been given for naught."
I am sorry for the long quote, but it felt important. In the past few years, I've heard people talk of War as a thing of the past, they-and I-forget we are still at war. I think there is more war in the world that I would ever like to believe.
But I do know in the words of Walter, that we will win. There are many fighting for us that we don't know about.
In so many things I've been reading and watching war seems to be a common thing and it makes me dread it all the more. But I then remind myself to look forward to the winning.
i love
pretty things and
clever words. -Unknown
Friday, November 16, 2012
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
The Hunger Games
So the book I’m going to write about today is one you may have heard of. It was big a couple years back. And actually, I’m going to talk about all three books, so if you don’t want SPOILERS you should stop reading now.
The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and Mockingjay
SPOILER ALERT
Okay, if you like them, fine. If you don’t like them, fine. If you haven’t read them, fine. If you haven’t read them but just seen the movie, you have no room to comment on this…But this is just my feelings and opinions so don’t get angry.
For Halloween this year, I dressed up as Katniss, my handy sister-in-law braided my hair for every Halloween party I went to and my bow and quiver of arrows were pretty much a must everywhere I went. (Although, I couldn’t believe how many people asked me where I’d got my Mockingjay pin. Has no one ever heard of Amazon. They have everything.)
But my costume sparked some conversations with people, as I’m sure any costume is apt to do. People asked what I thought. People asked how many times I’ve seen the movie (three, I believe). And people asked how many times I’d read the books (actually just once until the last couple weeks).
My sister, who’s three kids (of various ages) loved the books and movie, was horrified when she found out what they were all about after she’d dropped her youngest off to see the movie with a friend. This weekend though, she watched the movie, and were talking about it on Halloween. She said, “It’s horrible!”
I didn’t disagree with her, because it is horrible. But I did tell her, as I tell most people who only see the movie, “Obviously the book is about the same thing, but there is a lot more inner turmoil and frustration, guilt, love, and hope wrapped up in the books.” (At least in my opinion) My sister surprised me though, when she confessed to crying when Katniss volunteers to save Prim, and when Rue dies, and I think my sister actually admired Katniss for a bit.
And then she asked, “Why do kids like it so much? Is it because they don’t have kids? They can’t imagine how horrible it would be?”
And because I don’t have kids, I can’t answer the question. I’m a psychology major, and I was completely engulfed in the psychology of the series of books. Sure, I love a good story and I think the writing in these books is spectacular, but it’s what’s behind it that always catches me and makes me think. That is why I liked the books so much.
Since I was going to be Katniss for Halloween, I decided I had better refresh myself on the books so I listened to them on my iPod. I couldn’t believe I had only read them once though, but once I got into listening to them again, I realized why. The books are good, the take hold of you and drag you into the Hunger Games with Katniss. I wanted to protect the people she loves as much as she did, I wanted to find a way to stop the games as much as she did. I wanted to see her succeed. I wanted to know what I would do if I were in the same situation. And honestly, the experience left me drained. Perhaps this is only my experience and you are all thinking I’m crazy right now, but isn’t that what makes you love the books you love?
A quote in the second book, Catching Fire, caught my attention: “The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful of poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth.”
Maybe it’s just me, but I see a lot of myself in that statement. I see doubt and reluctance, I see the desire to know what motivates me in the things I do. I see a hope that I am a better person that I often think I am.
Katniss didn’t volunteer for the Hunger Games to bring glory on herself. She volunteered to save her sisters life. She didn’t volunteer to be the Mockingjay, the face of the rebellion that kills thousands in Panam. She is a reluctant hero who is trying to figure out how to do the very best thing she can for the people she loves.
In the third book, which it seems like to me was much less accepted than the first two, Suzanne Collins does not create the hero we expect, much less the happy ending we expect. Instead, I thought she created a crushingly realistic ending for Katniss, Peeta and Gale. Both Katniss and Peeta a broken by their experiences in the arena, the mind games played on them by the people in power, and a war raging across their country.
As much as the ending was not what I would hope for after years of fairy tale endings, I realized that it is a more realistic one. It is an ending that is also true to form for Katniss. It is very even, and very controlled....In my opinion anyway.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Book Review
So I joined a book club in my city, and the second book we read really impressed me. It isn't one that I would have picked up off the shelf, but it's one that I think I would like to own one day. It's called "Between Shades of Gray" by Ruta Sepetys
Here is what the official website says about this book: http://www.betweenshadesofgray.com/
In 1941, fifteen-year-old Lina is preparing for art school, first dates, and all that summer has to offer. But one night, the Soviet secret police barge violently into her home, deporting her along with her mother and younger brother. They are being sent to Siberia. Lina's father has been separated from the family and sentenced to death in a prison camp. All is lost.
The book follows a Lithuanian family's history through some horrifying events in the history of WWII. Told through the eyes of Lina, this powerful story is one that I am sad to say I had ever even heard before. I have heard, like everyone else, about Hitler and the Jews, but I never new that during that same time, so many people were being killed.
I thought this would be a hard book for me to read, but Sepetys write in such a way that you truly can relate to the characters in the book. You can see their good qualities and the ones that are truly important, love and hope. There was always a sense of hope in Lina and her mother. Her mother was truly inspiring because she always had an attitude that things would work out no matter how horrible they got. Her example is what helped her children all throughout the book.
There are several powerful one-liners in this book, lines that make you stop and think. Because I listened to the book on Audio, I didn't remember all of them like I would have liked to, but I do remember one powerful one that made me stop and think when I heard it. Later, when i got a hard copy of the book, it was the line on the back cover. It says, "Have you ever wondered what a human life is worth? That morning, my brother's was worth a pocket watch."
Although the story follows a fictional family, nearly all of the things the family goes through happened to someone who lived during this time. The author told of interviewing survivors originally to write a non-fiction book. But because the survivors still fear retribution for speaking out about the things they suffered, no one wanted to put their name in the book.
I thought it was a powerful story and very well written. I think that because Sepetys has ties to Lithuania, she was able to truly tell this story with real emotion. I would fully recommend it. Also, check out the books website and the short clip the author has on there. It's powerful and reminds you what it is to truly have the freedom we do have.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Reality...
I think the world we live in today is so interesting. Here I am, writing a blog (which is essentially a Journal entry) and putting it out there for the world to read. I'm not sure many people read my blog, but regardless, it's silly isn't it?
There is this need that I have to see my words reach other people. I think it's silly when my mom gets sucked into the Reality Shows like the Bachelor or Dancing With the Stars, but I'm easily swayed into the hype when Britney Spears becomes a judge on the X-factor. There are people who make you roll your eyes when you see them on those kinds of shows, there are blogs, possibly mine, that make you roll your eyes because I'm just that girl who wants someone to read my words and react.
Why is that, do you think?
When did we get so sucked up in 'reality' and putting on a 'reality' for others.
You wanna know me? I'm just a girl who's trying to figure things out.
I've never been in love, I've never been that important to someone else, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be.
In my Anthropology class one time, someone brought up that the culture of Reality TV and Blogging and such has turned us into Narcissists. We think that people really care who we are and what is on our minds. I'll admit, I love it when my facebook status' are liked, and people comment that I'm so funny, or witty or whatever. But I didn't used to be that way, at least it wasn't my main focus. Now it seems as though if a facebook status goes unliked, it means that I myself am unliked.
I guess I sound like a hypocrite as I'm typing this all on a blog...but I want to know, why is that that it feels so validating when someone comments on my blog?
Quote of the Day: Shyness has a strange element of narcissism, a belief that how we look, how we perform, is truly important to other people. -Andre Dubus
There is this need that I have to see my words reach other people. I think it's silly when my mom gets sucked into the Reality Shows like the Bachelor or Dancing With the Stars, but I'm easily swayed into the hype when Britney Spears becomes a judge on the X-factor. There are people who make you roll your eyes when you see them on those kinds of shows, there are blogs, possibly mine, that make you roll your eyes because I'm just that girl who wants someone to read my words and react.
Why is that, do you think?
When did we get so sucked up in 'reality' and putting on a 'reality' for others.
You wanna know me? I'm just a girl who's trying to figure things out.
I've never been in love, I've never been that important to someone else, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be.
In my Anthropology class one time, someone brought up that the culture of Reality TV and Blogging and such has turned us into Narcissists. We think that people really care who we are and what is on our minds. I'll admit, I love it when my facebook status' are liked, and people comment that I'm so funny, or witty or whatever. But I didn't used to be that way, at least it wasn't my main focus. Now it seems as though if a facebook status goes unliked, it means that I myself am unliked.
I guess I sound like a hypocrite as I'm typing this all on a blog...but I want to know, why is that that it feels so validating when someone comments on my blog?
Quote of the Day: Shyness has a strange element of narcissism, a belief that how we look, how we perform, is truly important to other people. -Andre Dubus
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
A Writers World...and a Story Preview
If you frequent my blog (which I know you don’t because no
one does) then you would notice that I’ve added the Wattpad Widget to the right
of the screen. If you have a wattpad, you should fan me and give my stories a
read if you feel so inclined!
If you don’t have a wattpad and you don’t know what in the
world I’m talking about, let me explain! Wattpad is a site for writers, it’s
where writers can publish their works for other people to read. I would say it’s
a little like a facebook for people who like to write. (I am somewhat unfortunately
one of those people who like to write. Not that you’d be able to tell that from
my 12 post blog…)
And I only say unfortunately because although I love to
write, sometimes it is so hard to do!
But, just to give you a little taste, I’ll preview the
Prologue of my story right here on my blog. That way, if you like it, go to
wattpad and continue reading. If you REALLY like it, perhaps you would consider
voting for it on wattpad, my story is in a contest on there and I would be
every so grateful for your support!
K.
Thanks!
Star Girl
Prologue:
“All
right Doll, I want you to give me that heart stopping smile!”
Desirae did as she was told, grinning into the camera and
the photographer behind it. Jacob had always been her favorite. Flashes
exploded around her, and she flipped her hair over her shoulder, peering up at
him with her best, who me look. She
knew Jacob loved that one.
“Perfect, Angel! Can you move a little more for me?” She
was sitting facing him, so she turned her back to him and peered over her shoulder
at him, then sliding onto her stomach, looked up at him with her elbows resting
on the floor and her chin in her hands giving him a perfectly innocent look.
Once more the flashes went off in her dark blue eyes before he lowered the
camera for a moment. As soon as it wasn’t pointed at her, she let the smile
slide off her face.
“Are we done for today, Jacob?” she asked, doing her best
to make sure her voice wasn’t whiney; but she was tired. To her relief, the
photographer nodded, handing the camera off to an assistant and walking toward
her.
“Yeah, I think we’re done for today. We’ll see how the
pictures turn out and send them over to Johnson. He’ll tell us if they were any
good.” He grinned down at her, “But as beautiful as you are, Angel, everyone
will love them.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and grinned up at
him. “Thanks for the pictures, Jacob,” she told him in a tone that was too
grown up, the barest hint of her once thick southern accent coming
through.
“No problem, Angel. You know you’re my favorite person in
the world to photograph.”
“Desirae Kimball!” The commanding woman’s earsplitting
voice echoed throughout the studio. Everyone looked nervously toward the door
before they hurried back to work and out of sight if they could manage it.
Desirae’s eyes widened and she turned back into any other
eight year old as she pulled a face, “My Mama’s here, I gotta go!”
Desirae ran towards the dressing room, but the woman cut
her off, grabbing her by the shoulders before she had a chance to go through
the door. “Desirae, you should have already been changed; we have to meet Nick
Johnson in less than ten minutes.” She looked down at her daughter, “Well
hurry, what are you standing there for?” she insisted as she pushed her in the
direction of the dressing room. “We’ve got lots left to do today.”
Holland Davis, one of the most beautiful seventeen year
old models in New York City, came up behind Jacob. “Looks like the child star
has been here today,” she said, hearing the demands of Stephanie Kimball.
Jacob turned to smile at the protégé, taking his camera
back from the assistant, ready to go again. “Yes, she has. Desirae Kimball,
child wonder. I hear she’s even giving you a run for your money, Holland.”
Holland smiled, not the least ruffled as she took her
first pose in a stunning black dress against a white backdrop. “She’s only
eight years old.”
Jacob raised his camera and took a few shots of the girl
before he lowered it to look at her again. “Maybe so, but she already had a
film, singing and modeling career. She was born a star.”
As Holland raised one of her beautiful eyebrows, Jacob
snapped a few frames of her skeptical look, “Yes, but will she die one?”
*****
Desirae’s feet didn’t even touch the ground as she swung
them back and forth while she sat in one of the expensive leather chairs in
Nick Johnson’s Manhattan office. She and her mother were waiting for her
manager to arrive. While Desirae eyed the M&M jar on Nick’s desk, her
mother was going over Desirae’s schedule in her thick, leather planner.
“Can I have some M&M’s, Mama?”
Stephanie appeared shocked and appalled at the
suggestion, although her eyes never left the planner. “No, you may not. Why do
you think you have a personal trainer?”
Desirae rolled her eyes behind her mother’s back,
sticking her bottom lip out in a pout. She knew it wouldn’t make a difference
to her mother if she pouted, but maybe Nick. . . A thought struck her young
mind.
“Mama, when are we going home? Daddy said he was coming
to see me tonight.” That made Stephanie look up at her daughter.
“Your father is busy, he won’t be able to see you tonight
Desirae.”
She looked up at her mother blankly. The words didn’t
seem to sink in or make any sense at all in her young mind. “But he promised.”
Her childlike innocence still led her to believe that a promise was a promise.
Stephanie reached out to touch her daughter’s hair,
seeming a sensitive motherly gesture to some, but Desirae knew it was to make
her all the more presentable. As her mother spoke, she turned away, fussing
with the planner’s pages and her purse, anything to keep her gaze from her
daughter. “He’s busy. You’re busy. You can see him another time. End of story.”
And it was the end of the story for a moment. Nick
Johnson came in, smoothly settling behind the desk. “Ms. Kimball, I’m so sorry
to have kept you waiting. How did the photo shoot go?”
“It went well,” Stephanie answered, although she’d spent
most of the shoot in the car, arranging appointments for Desirae. “Jacob will
probably have the pictures over to you this afternoon.”
“Good, good.” He said absently. He was going through some
papers on his messy desk. “We’ve set up a tour schedule for Des. She’ll wrap up
the new horror movie at the end of June, and rehearsals should take about six
weeks, so we’ve scheduled the first shows for her concert series the second
week of August.”
“So long?” Stephanie seemed surprised.
“Well, I know we were going to shorten the rehearsal
time, but since Des is a minor, we have to follow the rules. I think six weeks
is about the limit. Levi Preston, the shows choreographer met with Desirae last
week. He’s already picked out some dancers for her and they love her.”
Stephanie smiled with large, perfect white teeth, but the
smile didn’t reach her eyes. “That’s not a surprise. Who doesn’t love Desirae
Kimball?” She asked him with a wave of her hand. “So how will the movie release
and CD release coincide?”
“Perfectly!” Nick’s high voice rang with enthusiasm.
“They’ll be just a few weeks apart. She’ll be on everyone’s mind. The kids love
her because she’s one of them, and everyone else loves her because she’s
beautiful and talented. Desirae will be in the lights for a long time to come.”
The office went silent as both manager and mother
contemplated Desirae’s fame. She’d been in the public eye since she was five
years old. Everyone loved her. And they were determined to keep it that way.
Stephanie was, no doubt, more than willing to pay the price.
As they went back to planning what needed to be done for
the next few weeks, Desirae put her head down on her arm and closed her eyes,
fading off into her own dream world. In her sleep her lips were still pouting,
her thoughts far from the profit margin they wanted to create for her.
*****
Cameron Jackson sighed as he leaned his head against the door to the
New York apartment where his ex-wife and daughter lived. Stephanie always did this
to make him break all his promises to Dessie. Finally giving up he left,
realizing he had little choice.
He was leaving again the next day, and with Dessie’s
schedule so busy for the next four months, he knew he wouldn’t be able to see
her. She wouldn’t find time to fly down to Georgia to visit her father. Nor, he
figured would she want to visit the man who had ‘broken’ all his promises to
her.
He caught a cab back to his hotel, looking at the
billboards littering the city, plastered with his daughter’s face and brilliant
blue eyes. He couldn’t comprehend losing her, but he feared he may have done
just that.
He trudged into his hotel room and was received by the
smile of his wife of four years. “How’d the visit go?” Emily asked him softly.
He didn’t have to say anything; she could read the pained
expression on his face. “She’ll know you
tried, Cameron.” She said, trying to smooth the frown from his face. “Dessie
loves you.”
Cameron shook his head, “Stephanie will poison her
against me.”
Emily bit her bottom lip and sighed. She, like her
husband, loved Dessie; but she could not imagine his pain. Stephanie had made
sure that Emily was not allowed around the child after she realized that
Desirae actually liked her step-mother.
Cameron hit his fist on the table, making her jump.
“She’s only eight!” he insisted. “She’s only eight years old. She works harder
than any other super star out there and she doesn’t even know any different.
She’s not allowed to have fun! She’s not even allowed to see her own father!”
Emily rubbed her hand over his back, “Cam, Des knows you
love her. You call her every day; you talk to her every day. That’s
more than Stephanie does, and she lives with her!”
“For now. . . but who knows when Stephanie will take that
away from me too. I wish I could take her back to Georgia with us. She wasn’t
meant for New York. . .she’ll never remember her home.” He hung his head,
defeat written all over his face and in his posture as he finished softly,
“she’ll never remember me.”
“You are her father,” Emily reminded him fiercely. “She
will always remember you.”
He ran his hands through his hair, frustration coursing
through him. “Is it wrong of me to wish that she would fail?”
Emily smiled slightly, “Dessie has more talent than half
of the celebrities out there. She needs to use that talent because it is part
of who she is. She’ll have to find herself in her talent. And then. . .when she
realizes what she wants, she’ll go for it, and her mother won’t have any
influence over her anymore. She’s just like her father that way.”
He looked up at her, a rueful smile on his lips. “You
should have been her mother. Stephanie doesn’t love her.”
“Maybe she does,” Emily insisted. She had a habit of
always looking for the best in people. “Maybe Stephanie just doesn’t know how
to let people know she loves them. Come
on, call Dessie tomorrow. She’ll understand.”
He nodded, trying to feel hope in Emily’s words. She was
almost always right, but somehow, he doubted her on this one. She didn’t know
the full capacity of Stephanie’s powers.
Lover's Lane...
“Don’t be mad at me for keeps, Anne.”
I think Gilbert Blythe would have won me over then and there. It broke my little heart that it took Anne so many years to see how much he loved her. Oh, Anne Girl, I would have loved to be in your shoes!
When I was younger, I read the Anne of Green Gables series. I read all 8 books, though I don’t think most people even know there are so many books in the series. I’ve just discovered a few of the audio books and been listening to them over the past week or so.
I remember in my little 12 year old soul wishing I lived on Prince Edward Island and had a part in all of Anne’s adventures and schemes. It seemed the perfect little kind of life in Avonlea. I imagine walking through the ‘White Way of Delight’ and over ‘Lover Lane’ with the dear and often quirky towns people of Avonlea. Going to Redmond and living at Patty’s Place is a dear dream of my heart.
And to think, Anne turned down somewhere around five proposals in her years at Redmond, including Gilbert’s! I cried when she did so, for I couldn’t see how she herself didn’t see that she loved him like she did.
The books remind me of dreaming and imagining things in life that have always been apart of me. I think they are simply wonderful...I'm glad I've discovered them again.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Day 2: Sure, we'll take the Honeymoon Suite!
July 12, 2012
Well, despite everything about the Idaho Falls Hotel, it had a fantastic breakfast that we all could enjoy and we got on the road about 8 this morning. Well, 8 was our plan, and 8:45 was not too far off, right?
So, we headed on our way through Idaho and finally bought the kids a map so they could stop asking if we were halfway through Idaho yet. They had fun with that and Alison loved seeing the people on the Indian Reservation. She thinks she might be an anthropologist now.
We stopped in Chateau, MT for ice cream (a family tradition) and asked for one scoop…I’ll have to wait for data on my phone to upload the picture but for some reason for them, the one scoop ice cream equals about 4. I got bubble gum and it was fantastic.
Back on our way, we wound through the backroads of Montana toward the boarder, stopping for mom to ask a man how much he was selling his chainsaw bears for and then trying to make the Canadian officials at border see that we weren’t being aggressive by opening our door, there was just no way we were unrolling the window down to talk to them. Luckily, they didn’t shoot.
Out of the two or three hotels in Cardston, we had the nicest and we checked in. My aunt who was driving down to visit us got the rooms and one for them adjoining so we could visit. Unfortunantly they had no elevator and the adjoining rooms were down in the basement and mom couldn’t go down there so we just got our one room on the main floor. After driving around Cardston looking for some family, we came back and saw our aunts had checked in, only they were on the third floor and had checked in three hours earlier than us. Who knows why they tried to send us to the basement, but we still would have had to have the main floor, so all worked out well.
We visited, the kids went swimming and then we all settled down to sleep after trying to figure out the sleeping situation with five people. Tired from a day of diriving we all settled in about 11pm. My mom was sound asleep when three of us all heard it happen. At first, it was more like someone was snapping, or maybe poping their lips, and then suddenly we knew, something was leaking.
My sister and I jumped out of bed to discover, the AC (which wasn’t working all that well anyway) was leaking onto the floor. We pulled out some towels and I went to talk to the desk person. As I made my way down there, there were about 3 or 4 people milling around, a few of them left leaving one person standing around but no one behind the counter. I stood back to wait and then realized the one person left was the front desk person when she said, coving the mouth of the phone she was on.
“I’m calling the police to talk to them right now, you’re hear about the fighting?”
Obviously I wasn’t, but there was some sort of domestic despite going on and the police showed up in the lobby shortly thereafter. I told the poor desk person of our predicament and she they only had a couple rooms left but we could trade if we wanted. I told her that there were five of us and that my mom had to stay on the same floor.
There was one room open on the same floor with a king sized bed and then one room upstairs that three of us could go to. Our we could just put towels down.
I went back to report, my mom, who was sleeping just wanted to know why it was suddenly so hot in the room and didn’t want to move. But then she asked about three or four times if we could turn the AC back on. We kept telling her ‘no’ and asked her what she wanted to do, but then we were met with silence as she had fallen back asleep. After the final time there was silence, suddenly she broke out into giggles. My 73 year old mom could not stop giggling at our predicament and the craziness of our trip.
We decided we’d better move.
Mom and my sister went to the room just across from ours and I took my nieces to go upstairs. We got up to the room she had told us, opened the doors and the lights were all on and the beds all turned down. Needless to say, we backed out and went back to report to the desk lady that someone was apparently in that room.
She looked over what was available and then said, handing us the key, “Well, you guys get the Honeymoon suite for the night. Don’t have too much fun!”
So, my nieces and I headed up to the suite, which wasn’t too much different only with a jetted tub in the middle of the room, a kind sized bed and a pull out couch. A pull out couch in the honeymoon suite? I didn’t quite get that, but whatever; Alison loved having her own bed.
So that’s how I spent my first night in a honeymoon suite.
Anyway, Friday the 13th, BRING IT ON!
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