Cruise 11, Vacations, Walt Disney World

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

We’re home!!!

And we’re pooped.

We all feel like this right now.

Tuckered Out

Actually, Dude pretty much stayed in this position the entire cruise.

But more on that later.

We got home about an hour ago. It was a LOOOONG travel day. We left the boat and Port Canaveral at 9:30 this morning, arrived at the Orlando airport about 10:30, and killed time at the airport until 3:00 this afternoon to catch our flight.

We got into St. Louis about 4:00, stopped to eat at Taco Bell and we got home at 8:30 pm. After going through the STACK of mail (mostly junk – yuck), and putting away a few essentials (I’m not unpacking or doing laundry until tomorrow), we all jumped onto our computers and greedily gobbled up some Internet time. We didn’t have Internet the entire week and I think all of us were feeling the withdrawals.

I have so much to talk about, and some pictures to show you (after I go through them – and just for the record, I didn’t take as many as I liked because it was SO FREAKING HOT that I just couldn’t drum up the necessary energy to CARE, quite frankly), but for now, I must sleep. I’m wiped out.

Also? I came home to a TON of emails. It’s time to update all of the school websites and work on some projects that MUST get done in the next few weeks, so I’m going to be up to my neck in work for several weeks. In fact, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed, if you want the truth. Please be patient with me as I prioritize work stuff and sort through vacation stuff.

But just know, we’re home, safe and sound and I can’t type any more or my head will explode.

P.S. I’m having trouble finding my land legs again. This is quite normal and I go through this every time we get back from a cruise. It’s like my body still thinks it’s on a boat and I have this really funky swaying feeling … it’s disorienting and quite annoying, actually. No worries, it’ll go away in a few days. In the meantime, WHOA.

Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction: The Gift


Fiction under 250 words.


“Happy birthday, honey!”

I tried to smile and accepted the silver, foil-wrapped gift from my husband. I was feeling vulnerable and on edge. I was 30. When exactly did that happen?

“Thanks.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. This was the first year he had actually remembered. Granted, he was four days after the fact, but at least he had finally gotten the month right this time.

I continued to smile at him. I realized that my smile was a cross between painful and hopeful. Perhaps now things would be different. A new job. A new city. There wouldn’t be any more distractions. We could work on starting a family. We deserved a fresh start.

“Open it already,” he said, his voice laced with impatience.

I swallowed my sigh and gingerly opened the gift. It was a beautiful tennis bracelet; the diamonds winked and sparkled at me, as if they were dying to tell me something.

“It’s gorgeous,” I croaked out. And it was. It as by far the nicest gift he had ever given me. In fact, it was the best gift he had given me. I bit my tongue. I wouldn’t start with the paranoia again. It was my birthday. I didn’t want to spoil the tentative truce between us. I managed a smile and carefully pulled it from the box.

I could feel the blood draining from my brain and rushing past my eardrums. I had to ask.

“Did she buy it?”

I braced for his answer.