Everything came up Roses!

It was the 123rd Tournament of Roses in Pasadena, California, (Fine...120th for the picture to the left, with my FAVORITE elephant!) And if you are reading this and took a sharp breath in and said "I WANNA SEE THAT SOMEDAY!!!"...then go ahead and book your tickets for 2013, cuz it's beyond plenty awesome!!! I'll give you the number for Al Brooks-the company of choice to work for and go with for the Rose Parade/Game...and I'll even wait for you to book it and come back. 1-800-341-2766. Tell them I sent you, you won't get a discount, but if you promise to bring a dozen honey crisp apples to Jay Brooks....perhaps you'll get a seat cushion upon arrival!?



Okay. Are ya booked?

Good. Read on.

I'm SMITTEN with the flowers, and it of course helps that it's in SUNNY CALIFORNIA where the average temperature on parade day is? DRUM ROLL PLEASE?! 68 degrees. Insane. And fabulous! Granted layers are clutch, and some years are cooler than others, but this year...it was about 82 degrees by 1pm after our fabulous Mexican lunch on Olvera Street!

So hit the 5 "W"s? Who? What? When? Why? Where? Oh...and HOW!

Who?

I didn't think this through very well. Who what? Who puts it on? The Tournament of Roses! Who has a float in the parade? Whomever can pay for one! Who marches in the parade? Whatever bands qualify, and whatever bands that can raise the money to get to Cali! Who benefits? CALI! They say that the Parade and game generate like $400 million dollars for southern California. Who gets to watch? YOU! On TV! Or hopefully, some year, NEXT, in person! People camp out for good free seats. I vote for paying, sleeping in your own bed the night before, and being dropped off pretty near to your sweet seats!

What?

The parade...full of flowers. 40+ floats...made entirely, and I mean ENTIRELY, of some sort of a living plant. The more actual ROSES, the better, but seeds, petals, bark, leaves, fibers, stems, vegetables, nuts, and almost any other part of a plant are also used! Only 7 types of glue are allowed to be used! Every single visible part of the float, must be covered. Next time, take notice of the hitches! Generally those are covered in onion seeds. Amazing.

When?

January 1! UNLESS January 1 is on a Sunday, then it's January 2. "Never on a Sunday" is a rule steeped in tradition, and thankfully still adhered to today!

Where?
Pasadena, California. 5.5 miles of Rose Parade goodness. Where is best to sit? Me? I've never not sat directly on the corner of Orange Grove and Colorado, but I've been spoiled and living a dream. You? Somewhere in a bleacher! And if you can be somewhere where the sun is behind you? That'd be swell, plus your pictures will turn out better! Honestly though....book a tour with Al Brooks-less hassle, better seats, worth every penny, and plus I hear they have great guides...

Why?

WHY NOT! Well, the real answer is this...which I will steal from the official site of the Rose Parade...

"This uniquely American event began as a promotional effort by Pasadena's distinguished Valley Hunt Club. In the winter of 1890, the club members brainstormed ways to promote the "Mediterranean of the West." They invited their former East Coast neighbors to a mid-winter holiday, where they could watch games such as chariot races, jousting, foot races, polo and tug-of-war under the warm California sun. The abundance of fresh flowers, even in the midst of winter, prompted the club to add another showcase for Pasadena's charm: a parade would precede the competition, where entrants would decorate their carriages with hundreds of blooms. The Tournament of Roses was born.

"In New York, people are buried in snow," announced Professor Charles F. Holder at a Club meeting. "Here our flowers are blooming and our oranges are about to bear. Let's hold a festival to tell the world about our paradise."

(I INTERRUPT THIS QUOTE TO SAY TRUE TRUE TRUE! I SHOVELED OUT OF 36INCHES OF SNOW HERE ON THE EAST COAST IN 2010 SIMPLY TO MAKE IT TO THE 2011 ROSE PARADE!)

"During the next few years, the festival expanded to include marching bands and motorized floats. The games on the town lot (which was re-named Tournament Park in 1900) included ostrich races, bronco busting demonstrations and a race between a camel and an elephant (the elephant won). Reviewing stands were built along the Parade route, and Eastern newspapers began to take notice of the event. In 1895, the Tournament of Roses Association was formed to take charge of the festival, which had grown too large for the Valley Hunt Club to handle."

It's pretty much? JUST AWESOME!

HOW?

Well, it's a science for sure. They estimate that over 18 million flowers are used each year! Growers must time their growing cycle exactly so that the flowers are ready to be picked and shipped just a few days before the parade! Volunteers from all over help out! YOU! Yes, YOU could be a volunteer! "Petal Pushers" as they say! There are many different requirements as to height, as there is a bridge to pass under, and the float must be able to fit under the bridge in less than 25 seconds so as to NOT slow the parade! Planning starts in January, once the THEME is announced, then ideas must be submitted so there are no overlaps, and then by March the sponsor shopping begins! In May those builders must have a scale model to present to the sponsors! June sees them working on the main framework, and by September, the main construction is complete, and any small items are fabricated and installed on the float. Deliveries of non-perishable items such as seeds and beans start in October. Flowers start arriving in late-December and are stored in separate tents until they are needed. Approximately 30,000 workers, many of them young people from schools and church groups, report to the various builder's construction sites to begin the round-the-clock job of decorating the floats. Most flowers are prepared by popping the heads off the stems before being glued in place. Delicate flowers are placed in narrow plastic vials filled with water before being pushed in place. Each float requires an average of 10,000 lbs of flowers and takes 7,000 person-hours or more to decorate! (The photo here is of the 2012 float promoting organ donation, and featured those that had lost a loved one, and the one saved by their loss. )

The first time I ever saw it, I was given SWEET tickets, and I went to all the floats before the parade, they are located in various parts of the county. There are many out by where the Rose Bowl actually takes place in the Rosemont Pavilion. There are some in other buildings around the city. The La Canada-Flintridge float gets built underneath an overpass-and every year is hysterical and VERY cute! Then the morning of? I walked the row of floats, yes, at like 5am. (PS? They get disqualified if they aren't in line by 3am) THEN? You watch the parade, and after? You go to the Post-Floats! Where they are all lined up and ready for onlookers like us! And just when you are all flowered out? You fall into bed, since you've not slept all week, and wake up to the option of having "In and Out Burger" for dinner, as you are in California after all!

Go to the Parade. Go to the game if you want, but really, get float stalking, and get to the parade. You'll thank me. And I'll just go ahead and say it now. You. Are. Welcome!

And yes...yes HGTV DID make it snow on their float! Seriously. MAGICAL!

"Must be nice..."

I'm pretty certain that there is NEVER a time or place for "Must be Nice"....I'm racking my brain here. Maybe...when you think of ridiculous money....like Paris Hilton or some other silly trust fund baby, that just shops and does nothing substantial with her life....whilst you are working your tail off? Maybe then. And EVEN then? You should be aware, that that poor little soul is most likely not going to heaven...simply for how she lives and I've yet to hear her claim that Jesus has her heart. SO...it MAY be nice to have oodles of money...but it's gonna be niceR when we're in HEAVEN eternally.

Now listen...all of this said. Honestly...when was the last time you said the phrase "must be nice...". Can you truly truly say that it wasn't laced with bitterness? Or jealousy? I mean did you really say it out of true LOVE!? Answer? No. It's always said with a jab of the knife to the side. We don't get to be jealous...and we're called to love. I know that we are human.....but boy oh boy do we need to rise above, and edify. Encourage. As hard as that may be....it's back to the green grass situation. I travel for a living. I have the best job in the world. I LOVE what I do. My Christmas card is RIDICULOUS! (And includes a picture of Keifer Sutherland and I on it.) AND...and and and...I love Jesus. I am secure in my position in heaven, He has forgiven my sins...and has sent His son to die for me. I, have it all, in a sense. BUT...I don't. I'm not married...I don't have babies....I don't have a house....I'm nobody's last call, there are LOTS of things that make your grass greener than mine...lots of things that make me want to say..."must be nice"...but in the end...they edify nobody, and really...it IS nice to be me!

I get that we say it in jest...but I challenge you to love what you have jealousy of....and encourage that which you are jealous of, and more importantly to somehow, in love, impart on that person that says "must be nice", that in fact...it is nice, or at least it WAS nice, until they ruined it. We shouldn't feel guilty for having things others don't....we should share, we should feel blessed, and we should be sure that WE are not being jealous of things that OTHERS have that we don't. We are all ALL blessed in different ways. I preach "love anyway"....I mean it. I preach the part where GREEN GRASS...still has to be mowed! So now, I challenge you to take the phrase..."must be nice", and change it into real excitement, and happiness and say "AWESOME! I am SO JEALOUS of that right now!" And more so-I challenge you to mean it!!!!!

No more "must be nice". I won't be offended if I hear it, but I will challenge you to lace it in love! Love more, speak less, judge not.

Happy New Year friends! I'll be in LA "working" and going to the Rose Parade...and yes...it WILL be nice!

:-)

PS...inspired by a dear friend that I love completely. This blog is based on the conversation that we had, and she said "must be nice" to me as I left. We laughed at it, and it may have been...the only appropriate time, for the phrase to be used! Ha...there, found ONE! So my dear friend...please know....I like your green grass...though it isn't green at all when it comes to some things. And I am more than blessed to have you in my life, and will forever be praying for you and yours. I also promise to never say, nor think, "must be nice" in your general direction! Love you dearly! And may loving those that think that it really "must be nice"...just come easy!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!

Ah yes....tis the season. The season of giving, spending too much, being crabby in traffic, eye-rolling at shoppers, and WRAPPING...oh wrapping. I like to wrap. One present. Now put those two sentences together....I like to wrap one present. HA! Seriously. Lots of rad ribbon, awesome bows, and perhaps a spring of pine. However, then I'm tapped. Of course, we're not that family that buys one present for each other, I literally just wrapped like 20 presents for my mother....(1. by "I"...I mean Schmols. Thank you. And 2. Perhaps I didn't HAVE to wrap them all individually. Oh...and 3. Thanks also to the fact that my mom doesn't read my blog.) Anyway, wrapping isn't my thing, I mean maybe it would be if I did nothing for a living, because I think that's when I'll start cooking too. Dear working mothers...how DO YOU DO IT! Anyway, since Christmas Cards are starting to go out, I thought I'd take the time to wish you all a very Merry Christmas....the time of year when we should be impacted by the BIRTH of Jesus. He came so that we might have life....more abundantly. From a cliche' standpoint....He is the reason for the season....cliche'? Yes. True....YES! May you know Him, may you have His peace this holiday season. As an added bonus to the blog....know that I like the "idea" of santa...but we never believed in him. He didn't bring us presents....my parents and loved ones spent good money on presents for us...they got the credit! Not some man in a suit. We still left him cookies....but our parents were sure to have us believe that Jesus was the true reason...and he is. So, the bonus, includes a picture of me, and Santa....when I was about 3....not a big fan...of the big man! lol MERRY CHRISTMAS FRIENDS!!!

We count....you don't.

When I title this "We count....you don't.", I mean it, but CHILL first. I am not saying you aren't important. I'm saying that when we are counting people....like 1, 2, 3, and so on? YOU DO NOT! You don't say 14, 37, 9, it's ANNOYING, aggravating, there's one (sometimes two) of you on every tour, and honestly? IT WASTES TIME!!!!!! Now, there is the occasional old man who can't help himself, he's just trying to get your attention, well intended perhaps, annoying still? YEP!

We GET that it's the "thing" to do. I find that even I want to do it sometimes, but the difference? I DON'T!!! Seriously, we have limited time, chances are you were late on the bus anyway, having been given 2 hours for lunch, yet having to go to the bathroom upon meet time. REALLY? (Side blog...when you get free time? It's yours, but be smart and listen to your OWN BLADDER! GO, in the time given. We don't set "meet time", and then the "after meet time" for "bathroom time", we quit doing that once you were over the age of 7.)

So I try to count fast and so we can go, making up for the lateness, and when you jack my counts? It takes longer. Duh. ALSO? It JACKS MY COUNTS! And that's when we leave people, or wait LONGER for people that aren't coming!

So, bottom line, when you hear counting, resist the 12 year old boy in you and do NOT throw out meaningless numbers. Don't do it. We'll instantly like you better.

ATH-LHR-EWR-BED

Well, my trip home is ALWAYS an adventure!

When I was standing at the base of the Acropolis....there was a wind....a movie moment of silence, and that was the exact moment when the cold hit me. I was standing there listening to Daniel and his guide....zoning....and it hit me....from there, my nose ran continuously until I could start to really mix meds. THANKFULLY...I keep all sorts of drugs, just short of the "good stuff" in my "Mary Poppins" bag. We rock out Greek Night, well, my dancing left a little to be desired, but we had a good time, and I loved my group-every last one of them.

Anyway, so then of course we get to the hotel, I finish up the address list after a dose or two of Nyquil...and woozy is my middle name...I'm not sure how I took a shower, or if in fact I did use hand lotion as shampoo. 3am rolled around too quick, I got up, gave myself a pep talk, had 3 cups of coffee, and made my way downstairs to drop off the Florida crew. Check in actually worked out well, our driver, Babbis, didn't speak a lick of English, but he also didn't smile either, so I obviously had a task ahead of me. Not smiling is not an option. I head back to the hotel, jam with Daniel, pack a little, have more coffee, set 3 more alarms, and fall into bed for another 1.5 hours. Up, again, more coffee, some more drugs, downstairs, to drop off the remaining bits of my fabulous group. Airport, all is well, of course it's so sad to say goodbye, but I like knowing that all the rest of my peeps are together at least for the big leg of their trip home-warms my heart. And they are all smiling. I hop back on the coach, and head back to the hotel.

BREAKFAST! Fresh OJ-yum...and? MORE COFFEE!? In a normal world? I'd be WIRED-pinging-and highly entertaining...though in the sick, on drugs, not enough sleep world...I'm barely functioning. So I head back up....must...pack...for...real....now. (Sidenote...I can't remember if I've blogged about it yet or not, but the word EXPLOSION is very common in the tour guide world. We get to a hotel room, and it's literally like a bomb goes off...it's how we appear to be put together, but it's also why we don't let people see behind closed doors...we can't explain how THAT got THERE either!) Anyway, packing, and of course going down to say farewell to sweet Daniel. Au Revoir. I'm standing there at the front desk, and Babbis comes in, and so I pretend to fall asleep at the counter, a simple snore out loud, and the man giggles. He. Giggled. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!!! HA!! Daniel comes running over, and says...HOW DID YOU DO THAT!? "I've been trying to make him laugh since 2am!" He says! lol He had the same mind set, only he tried walking like a zombie, the "snore" was apparently the way to Babbis' heart. We then proceeded to "have a conversation" about how I was headed home to see Momma, and we were bff's from then on. I think he hugged me somewhere in there. Cracked him. :-) It's the little things people.

Daniel goes on his way, I'm the sole survivor at the hotel, I have 45 minutes till nice looking Greek man takes me to the airport. I pack. My bag weighs like 65lbs at least. Hmmm....I'll deal with that later. I get to the airport....cute Greek never lets me tip him-he's another blog....he's sweet, adorable, and told me to calm down once because I was fretting about something needlessly-total strangers know that I need to chill. lol. At the airport...reunited with Daniel, and I "babysit" his bag, translation, HIDE it from silly Alitalia and their silly little "policies". See prior blog-I've nothing nice to say about Alitalia. He meets up with me at my counter when I'm deep in funny distracting conversation about the weight of my bag, I mean I was comparing his ticket machine to old movie reels....it was a good time, I had to take out about 4lbs, but in the end, I checked a 59lb bag with a smile, and a genuine smile. And he specifically said, "normally it's only 50lbs, but for you, since you are so nice...." :-) Ahhh.

Daniel then treated me to lunch at McDonalds....oooh! YUM! And he was walking away to catch his flight home, turned to say "I'll miss you"....and? Guess what? THAT is when the cold hit him!!! UGH!!! Poor guy.

My flight, I am saving my very last Nyquil for the London leg, but I've got some Sudafed for this leg. I sleep the whole time, well, as much as I can, as I am an aisle seater-another blog-but my middle seater had her elbows full on out, like IN my side. She's lucky I was sick, but getting tossed between her and the carts going by, it's a good thing I was also heavily drugged. London-played fair. Shocking I know. I even had time for a stop at the "Giraffe" in Terminal 5. Over priced place to sit, which has now become a joke with my brother and I, as he'd never noticed it, and for a while and he was flying to Deathrow monthly? Well, he didn't notice it because he was in the "lounge". Turn your noses up people. I, am not lounge worthy, so I go to the Giraffe. So when I send him the picture of where I am, he asks me if I'm slumming it. Yes, yes I am. I'm also having some sort of smoothie, pretending it's $8 is worth it because it's got some magic healing property to it. It doesn't/didn't, but don't tell me that.

I head to my flight, board, sit down, next to Greek woman, who, before I sit? Asks me if I'll help her with her customs form. Really? I put my stuff up, sit down, and she asks again, in great English. I say yes? But I don't trust this because I only really know mine, not visa's/visitors/aliens/etc. And she says "Do you know how to read?"? I should have said no. I say yes, she says good, because I can't. I don't know what this means. Like you can't read English? Or you can't read. At all. Okay, well, I say yes anyway, as she picks up an English newspaper and proceeds to read...hmmm...suspect. In the mean time, lanky feminine boy with bad boots gets on in a fret and late, and I help him find room for his bag, move mine for his, and he plops down, turns to me, and gives me the "most considerate neighbor award!" AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! YAYA!!!!!!!!! I'm a WINNER!! lol It made me laugh, and smile (later he gives me a cookie-true story)

I pop my precious Nyquil, break out my neck pillow, insert ear plugs, and eye mask, I'm gone. I wake for dinner, eat a little, and she's already asked the flight attendant for help on her customs form....I go back to bed....to be woken by the flight attendant over me...helping her. AT LEAST an hour she spent on the form that takes 3 minutes. She filled out every form, and then when I did pull up my eye mask, she saw, and made me look at her forms. LOL! And the best part is she didn't know what "livestock" was. So I say "animals". She looks more confused. I say, "This question asks if you have been around animals"....NO! I HAVE NOT NOT NOT been around animals!!! As though I was accusing her. Oh boy. And so for the next 15 minutes, we go over it, I repeat the question, she gets defensive about the answer, and I say I'm just repeating the question, she calms down till the next translation. I can imagine she makes her daughter roll her eyes often! Anyway, back to the eye mask. We land, in SLUSH! WHAT THE HECK!? And we SAT on the run way for a solid 2 hours, waiting for our gate, since the plane that was there was de-icing. Seriously, get me a staircase, and get me to my mother....the drug medley I'd fashioned is fading, and I've just taken my last Sudafed. Finally, the fasten seat belt sign goes off, Greek mama BOLTS OVER ME, to get her bags and stand there, awkwardly, so that I can't do anything, but wait. I get off the plane, surely I'm in slow motion, the drug fog, tired fog, sleepy fog. Greek mama is lost in passport control land, I'm okay with not being near her for that-I can only imagine. I make it through, pay $5 for a cart, if for no other reason, than to keep me upright. I wait one hour for my luggage, I mean, there is slush on the ground after all. HELLO, it's NEW JERSEY! It snows all the time! Whatever. I grab my luggage-heave it onto the overpriced cart and roll out. Roll out to Momma Bear. It's snowing out. That's right...SNOWING! And I have to drive home. I'm not sure that was safe or legal, but it was the right decision, my poor mother, waiting for me for WAY too long.

We get home, I fell asleep on the porch. Ha-no, I made it into my bed somehow, and forced myself to keep sleeping. Skipped church. Got up, had some cereal-told my mom I was disappointed in the breakfast that this establishment had, and where was the coffee.

She didn't slap me.

She should have.

Then, after having been up for 2 hours, I needed a nap. I had to be at work by 7pm. I work at Bath & Body Works part time when I'm home, and like a goofball, I said I'd do the Christmas Floor Set. Well, I had new drugs that I'd tapped, so I'm feeling okay, but I'd still rather be sleeping, and this floor set is a hot mess. At 3:50am I was done, and drove home, and fell into bed. Now, I didn't fall into bed and then SLEEP!? I LAID THERE! Till 7:30am. Then slept for an HOUR!!!! Then, LAID THERE! And was USELESS! Until 3pm when I got up, finally showered, put mascara on, donned my Halloween colors and decided I'd be awake to the world and rocked out the "rainstick" craft at the "Harvest Party". And now, here I am, I got up at 7:30 this morning...and I've sort of been productive, I've put off paperwork all day, I did some shopping, I got coffee, and I took a conference call. I've also not taken a nap-I'm proud of that. And? I wrote this giant run on paragraph, in response to the email sent my way by some of my fabulous pax. Intended as a response, turned into a blog. HA! But? I LOVE THE QUOTE! I'm sharing it here. Isn't that the truth!? Especially coming from our "Footsteps of Paul" tour through Greece, and a drop of Turkey.

"Trying to follow in the footsteps of the masters, but it's a lot harder than it looks because even though they had the same size feet as us, they weren't looking down the whole time while they walked to make sure they were doing it right."

My amendment to that of course is...."OR FALLING"! They had it good, things weren't RUINED when they lived there, just when we visit...how is that!?

I miss you friends. Thank you again, for a great great trip. And --------------->

is my "Halloween" outfit. Own orange? Wear it. DONE! And of course....Darian...the nerd....DariaNerd. NerDarian.

MOMENTS!

You know that quote that life is not measured by the breaths that we take but by the moments that take our breath away!? Well, granted, I firmly believe that our life is measure by our relationship with Christ, but I do believe that we are BLESSED with moments. I-for one-am blessed all the time….and these past two nights, were no exception.

I left San Francisco, after a solid 7 hour hang out time in the airport…..boooring, but a little productive, counting out my meager bills (Seriously, all excellents, but a ten spot for 8 days is NOT really okay….), and FINALLY we boarded for Deathrow. I do mean Deathrow. Some of you out there may call it Heathrow, but you clearly have never transferred there if you still refer to it by it’s given name. The airport is new, organized, and HUGE! Oh, along with ridiculous. So I have an hour and five minutes to make my connection! HA! And my flight from San Fran left 30 minutes late. The little desk agent, assured me I’d make it, even came over to me, to assure me that it would be no problem, there were tail winds, I’d not have immigration, OR security! HAHAHAH! The Flight Attendant said the SAME THING! I don’t know why I listen-the gate agent had clearly never been to Deathrow, or never had to connect, and the flight attendant has her own line for everything. Now, if I didn’t make that flight, my next option was just 9 hours later, I’m certain that Deathrow makes these ridiculous schedules on purpose, marketing and humor. So, we land, I crawl over people with my 30lb backpack, and RUN! There is an agent waiting with a sign for “ATHENS”-that’s me I say, she hands me my boarding pass, and tells me to RUN! Mind you, very little signs telling me where to go for Gate A, so praise God she was there! All that running made useless as I have to wait for a tram. Tram stops, running continues, and UP escalators (ALWAYS take the elevator by the way). Then we get to immigration, and I’m THAT person in line, sighing, looking impatient, then I say the excuse me’s, sorry, as I pass people on the next escalators, and I ask 3 different security mongrels if I can cut because my flight closes in 5 minutes, hmmm? No. So then the last one opens up a new line and I’m in the BACK of another, I say HELLO! Can I go over here!? He says…”Lemme see your boarding pass” In my head I was wondering if he had meant to say AGAIN!?? Tool. So, he lets me in, then I ask the whole line if I can cut, that my flight closes in 5 minutes, they look at me like, NO WAY WILL YOU MAKE THAT! And they all let me, with shouts of “You’d better run!” Kind of laughing, as they’ve done the same route. So I finally get out of security…..and RUN….again! Running into the gate agent that handed me my boarding pass and I was a little relieved to see her….except that SHE was running! HAHAHAH! So…we round the corner…? And there is a line of people waiting to board…..PHEW!!!! We both sigh and laugh….Ahhhhh….made it! God is good-all the time.

I slept the whole way, and awoke upon the double landing-again. Maybe it’s Greece!? Maybe there is a speed bump? And I grab my luggage, a treat, and a taxi! To the Intercontinental I say-knowing I’m spending way too much money on a taxi vs. the metro, but I’ve been up for too long, San Fran to a marathon on Deathrow to Athens. I’m ready for my 2 nights by myself! I’d booked the hotel on priceline, I got a decent deal, but the hotel isn’t altogether THAT expensive anyway. I arrive, it’s HUGE, and I get to the desk, and he checks me in, and I ask, any acropolis view rooms? He says yes, for a fee….I say how much? He tells me, I deem it WORTH IT! So then, for a bit more, I can upgrade to CLUB. Club? I’m not a club kid, because I’m cheap. BUT….CLUB is free breakfast, snacks in the afternoon, and at night, plus any drink I could imagine (hindsight, I never asked for a Frappe-what’s the matter with me?), oh and free wifi? What? Free food, free wifi, WITH acropolis view? THAT. Friends, is the DEFINITION of AcropoBLISS! So I say YES! NE! (Greek for YES!)

I get to my room, and it’s true, there is some sort of gingham going on, but I don’t care, because there she is, the Acropolis-and she’s all lit up, and I’m smiling. I then hit up the “Club Lounge”, to make snack time, dinner time. The next morning? SLEPT IN! Until it was time for breakfast-so for a brief moment, I left the view of the Acropolis-and arrived at breakfast, which was AWESOME, and sat down to continue my view of the Acropolis….AcropoBLISS!

Of course the bliss goes on and on, and I did take an afternoon “tour” of Cape Sounion-which I fell in love with wanting to see back in 2007 when it was an excursion on MSC. The “tour” was terrible. An hour ride out where she blurbed for a total of 5 minutes, I was all ready to take notes. BOO! We get to the site, she gives us 3 minutes of information, WIKI would have been embarrassed, and let us go. The pictures are stunning of course, despite her. The ride home of course was quiet, but stunning along the sparkling Aegean. Stunning. Arrival back at the hotel, and I tip her and the driver, more than the lady and her husband, from Georgia tipped me for the entire last week. C’est la vie. Back at the hotel, it’s time for “snacks”…aka…AcropoBLISS dinner….ahhhhh….

The rest of the story gets a little muddled with waking up too early and not being able to fall asleep, then of course falling asleep an hour before it’s AcropoBLISS breakfast time, and knowing I’d have to really say goodbye to my view, and head out and pay WAY too much for a car to take me 2 miles to my next hotel, since it was STRIKE day…..BUT….for those two days….AcropoBLISS….look for it in a dictionary near you! OR? Make it in YOURS! Book your ticket, and pay the upgrade! I mean maybe wait till things chill over here, but bucket list for sure. Ah-Maze-ing. Love me some Greece, Love me some AcropoBLISS!

From Seattle to San Francisco...

As a "Tour Manager"...I freak out on a daily basis. You wouldn't notice per say...but I am. Why? Because I don't know every single thing. Seem silly? It is. But saying "I don't know" to something is this crushing blow to my self-esteem and I see it as over all incompetence for the tour. Harsh? PERHAPS!? Thankfully I have an inflated ego so that I'm able to deal with these common blows, thankfully I know some good jokes that I deflect with, thankfully my God protects me from a lot of them, and thankfully I'm a pretty good judge of people and know when I should duck around the corner or "make a phone call"! I adore my job, don't get me wrong, but every day is different....every tour is different, and from an adult tour perspective, I don't do the same route, every week, the entire year! HA! Sometimes I think that'd be nice, but MORE times I love the every day is NEW of my job! If I did the same thing? I'd know more things, I'd be able to rock out California's History, and the Missions, and say why we didn't see whales, and exactly what kind of tree that was, and how deep the Columbia River is, and what there is to do in Coos Bay...if anything! But...I don't do the same thing....and tomorrow I leave for Athens, not Georgia, to do another "Footsteps of Paul" tour, and may the freaking out begin again!

BUT I LOVE IT! I'm just setting the stage for you to tell you this. Every passenger is different, and that's how you deal with them. Some love you because they love everybody, some love you after you've proven yourself, some love you after you love them, some will NEVER love you, and some, you THINK don't love you, but then they blindside you and tell you they do! THAT is what this blog is about....because it warmed my heart.

I'm on a "Pacific Northwest & California" this tour, I have a group, they are travelers through and through, but from a smaller town. There are 40 of them...and I really like them....I'm really enjoying the tour. We've had some blah weather, like fog on our day to view Mt. St. Helens, and SNOW on our day to see Mt. Hood! There was also rumored to be an earthquake the night we were in Coos Bay! Finally there was sun on the coast, my driver is great, my passengers love her, I'm feeling "okay" about the tour, but I don't think I'm talking enough, granted, enough would be all the time, and nobody wants that. (Realize, if your tour manager is worth their salt, and it's quiet? They are wondering if they should talk! Or maybe that's just me....but that's what's happening in my brain, up front, and y'all are sleeping or looking out the window!) So....it's night 5, we're in Eureka, and my passengers want to do Alcatraz in San Francisco. I'm bitter at Alcatraz for this. It's ALWAYS booked too early, and people ALWAYS want to do it! It puts me in the position to help them, but if something goes wrong, and it's government run-so something ALWAYS goes wrong, well, then it's my fault. So, I'm in the lobby, on my computer, trying to book tickets. Tickets go WAY fast, and I have to book them 2 at a time, with their credit cards,( I've learned looooong ago to not put things like that on my card, though, I question myself every time, as it would be easier to buy 14 tickets at once vs. separately....) And it's quiet, I've got 10 people huddled around me....and my passenger that I was worried about the most, says "I've got something to say, and I'm just gonna say it...". I about die. He, is younger than the majority, very adventurous and he knows his stuff, and I have been feeling like I had to be more than at the top of my game so that he would get something out of this tour. He's smarter than me, and the only advantage I've felt like I've had with him is the fact that I know where the restaurant is in the hotel. I like him, but I'm a little intimidated. And so we are all ears. He says (please read with a southern drawl) "I just want you to know......that you are the most knowledgeable tour guide I have ever had. You know a lot of things about all of these places that we are visiting. Now I know a LOT of things, but you have taught me so many new things, and I think you are very good at what you do." My mouth drops a little, my tears start to well, I stop booking tickets, and I look at him, and I say thank you. Thank you very much, that means a LOT to me. And in my head I add "especially coming from you". He then says "And I mean it. I don't give out compliments, so it means something when I say it.". And I knew that to be true. And it warmed my heart. Everybody murmured in agreement, and I continued to book tickets, but I was filled, my cup runneth over! Awesome. Very great compliment. I'm not sure that the time spent stopping ticket booking was the right thing to do, as I was only able to book 12 of the 14 tickets as Alcatraz ran out....and guess who didn't get to go? HIM! ARGH!!!!! I was so mad. I tried all night, I called all my secret numbers for Alcatraz....I checked Craigslist, eBay, called my SF friends, looked at a bunch of other ticket sites, called the next day, continued to check, made friends with the girl at the Alcatraz office who talked to her manager who could still do NOTHING! In the end....they were more than fine with it, and I over worried, but still, it's what I do. There is no moral to this story, because I'm certain that another passenger still doesn't like me, doesn't think I'm doing enough, and his wife had the audacity to mark "good" not "excellent" for "Created a fun and enjoyable environment". ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? If nothing else that is ALL I know how to rock out! lol. Please, I bought the birthday girl a sash to wear around all day with glitter....she's 80. I'm fun. Like me. But, whatever, it's part of the job, and my heart was warmed by what my other passenger said, and meant. Oh if he only knew...