Day One.
Survival.
Just needing to accept that "it'll all be OK" (the mantra Dick keeps making me repeat).
The day starts out rather easily. Really, probably too easy. Taxi is on time and makes good time, check-in is a snap, even security is quick and painless. The flight almost entirely smooth.
We walk out and embrace the humidity.
A little disappointed that the car rental company I chose because it was the cheapeast that was actually located inside the terminal ... wasn't, in fact, located inside the terminal. Fine, no biggie. We go and collect our car ... and it is .....
... the second worst rental car I've ever had. Oh, it's cute; but it's as though the designers were striving so hard for something attractive on the outside, that they didn't pay much attention to the inside. I'm not sure who this car was built for. Seriously. It's not short people, I promise you that. (I had to - for the first time ever - sit on a cushion to drive the thing.) And yet, according to the 6'3" security guard, it's not built for tall people either. And it IS a small car. ("It's the next step up from a bicycle," said the baffled Thrifty employee, who couldn't understand my request for a smaller car.)
So ok, fine. It is what it is.
We make our way to the hotel ("good luck on your first drive through the city," said my friend Kim, who just happened to call as I was dealing with the rental car, having no idea I was here yet.)
The hotel is unimpressive (though there will be photos to follow of the humorous bits). And there's free wireless internet, so I'm a happy girl.
But (you knew there was a but, right?) ... well ... family dynamics. There are some issues that I will not post publicly (but feel free to ask via email, should you care) ... for those of you who HAVE been going through the "so what are you going to do????" questions ... the answer is ... I won the battle ... and proceeded to lose the war. :p
I don't mean to be cryptic, but suffice it to say my dad and I have a difficult relationship.
But really. I don't think it's just me. Don't we all just want our parents to love us as we are, when it comes right down to it? I can't imagine I'm the only one who goes through this. The slightest disapproval from my dad sends me into a meltdown. But I'm filled with the frustration that he just doesn't listen (or hear) me; and equally frustrated with myself that I can't communicate with him more clearly.
Anyway. I'm here. I just want to sleep well, enjoy the air conditioning, and start the day fresh.
Just needing to accept that "it'll all be OK" (the mantra Dick keeps making me repeat).
The day starts out rather easily. Really, probably too easy. Taxi is on time and makes good time, check-in is a snap, even security is quick and painless. The flight almost entirely smooth.
We walk out and embrace the humidity.
A little disappointed that the car rental company I chose because it was the cheapeast that was actually located inside the terminal ... wasn't, in fact, located inside the terminal. Fine, no biggie. We go and collect our car ... and it is .....
... the second worst rental car I've ever had. Oh, it's cute; but it's as though the designers were striving so hard for something attractive on the outside, that they didn't pay much attention to the inside. I'm not sure who this car was built for. Seriously. It's not short people, I promise you that. (I had to - for the first time ever - sit on a cushion to drive the thing.) And yet, according to the 6'3" security guard, it's not built for tall people either. And it IS a small car. ("It's the next step up from a bicycle," said the baffled Thrifty employee, who couldn't understand my request for a smaller car.)
So ok, fine. It is what it is.
We make our way to the hotel ("good luck on your first drive through the city," said my friend Kim, who just happened to call as I was dealing with the rental car, having no idea I was here yet.)
The hotel is unimpressive (though there will be photos to follow of the humorous bits). And there's free wireless internet, so I'm a happy girl.
But (you knew there was a but, right?) ... well ... family dynamics. There are some issues that I will not post publicly (but feel free to ask via email, should you care) ... for those of you who HAVE been going through the "so what are you going to do????" questions ... the answer is ... I won the battle ... and proceeded to lose the war. :p
I don't mean to be cryptic, but suffice it to say my dad and I have a difficult relationship.
But really. I don't think it's just me. Don't we all just want our parents to love us as we are, when it comes right down to it? I can't imagine I'm the only one who goes through this. The slightest disapproval from my dad sends me into a meltdown. But I'm filled with the frustration that he just doesn't listen (or hear) me; and equally frustrated with myself that I can't communicate with him more clearly.
Anyway. I'm here. I just want to sleep well, enjoy the air conditioning, and start the day fresh.
posted by Tracy @ 7:17 PM
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