14 Hours & 12 Donuts Later

It was one of those days where I was so excited the night before I could hardly sleep. I listened to relaxing music, calmed my mind, regulated my breath, watched a chosenly mostly boring-to-me documentary to aid the mind to zoning out sleeplessness. It took a while, but I did get a few hours of delightful deep sleep and woke up ready and excited to get started on the first leg of the new adventure.

I'd already filled up the gas tank and had a 3 hour drive to the border from the north edge of San Antonio. I had looked up the Einstein Bagels around the corner from the house and Google maps said they opened at 5 a.m. so I pulled out of the driveway about 10 minutes after 5 and pulled in to find out Google maps was indeed wrong and that they were not open. I have no idea when they open, but it's definitely not 5 a.m.

Disappointed but not deterred, I continued on my way toward the Laredo border.

As I was driving through the dark, alone with my thoughts, I considered what I might do for coffee and breakfast (I was surprisingly hungry for the time of day). Realizing I was leaving the US for a possible long period of time in just a few hours, I suddenly thought, how silly of me to even consider going to Einstein Bagels when my cheating heart belongs to Dunkin Donuts.

I looked it up on Google maps and to my girlish delight, there was a Dunkin Donuts in Laredo just before I would cross the border. Yes, it was totally worth the 15 minute detour. I ordered my coffee and a breakfast sandwich and my guilty pleasure of a half dozen munchkins (half chocolate and half glazed). Grabbed the bags after it was all prepared and headed for the last fill up this side of the border (meaning a $30 or less fill up instead of $50 or higher).

It was a quick fill up and bathroom stop and I headed to the border just a mile away. The line going into the US was abysmally long by 8 a.m. when I arrived but I was eternally grateful that the line into Mexico was well, not a line. I waited behind one car to pass through the blinky camera and then chose not to go through inspections but instead just drive right into Mexico. Crossing the border took less than 5 minutes.

About to get scanned and pictured at the Laredo border.

Once in Mexico I needed to get a tourist visa and a car permit. The permit station is just across the border and there are signs to follow, in English, to find it. However....there is one small detail that is left out in the signage.

Imagine: there is a 4 lane road with a concrete divider and a turn lane at the traffic light. The sign says to U-turn to reach the permit station. Important: If you U-turn into the lane directly opposite you it is the direct line back to the USA, not the permit station. On the far side of the two opposing lanes is another 2 lane road, separated of course by a concrete barrier from the 4 lane road so if you U-turn incorrectly, it's too late to change your mind. The 2 lane road on the far side doesn't have clear designations for which direction the traffic goes and since you're U-turning into it, it appears that all the traffic is coming toward you leading to the wrong lane choice. There is also no visible signs or lines on the road to indicate traffic direction to aid the warry driver of turning choices.

Now I've done this before and I knew to U-turn down the far side 2 lane road was the correct choice, but it is so unnerving to appear to turn into direct oncoming traffic that I panicked and turned down the wrong side. As soon as I had done it I knew I'd made the same mistake I had made the very first time I crossed the border in Laredo. I also remembered finding a sneaky way down through some vacant parking lots right before the border crossing so I continued, hoping to find it. Well, I did indeed find it, but in the year and a half since I was here, some local entrepreneuring Mexicans had decided to put a chain across it and lock it. Then when it was clear a tourist was trying to find the permit station but realizing they were in the line to go back to the USA, the entrepreneuring Mexicans, dressed in reflective looking offical vests, would wave them over and show them the shortcut. Only deal is now they promise to unlock the chain and let you through for a mere $20 USD!

Since I'd already been around this rodeo I denied their ploy and drove back (the wrong way) to the turn around point and found my way correctly this time.

I made many mistakes through the permit processes that I will write an article about but suffice it to say that I spent over an hour at the offices before finalizing both my tourist visa and my car permit. Then I was able to head to the bank ATM for some pesos and hit the road again.

Partition No.1 for Immigration

One other major misstep I made that actually turned out to be nice, was having "avoid tolls" as a route option on Google maps. The toll roads between the border and major cities in Mexico are quite nice and the tolls are minimal. When I originally saw that Google maps was taking me on a round about way to Monterrey I thought there must be something on the direct route between Laredo and Monterrey. It took about a half hour down the wrong highway before my mind finally kicked in to remember that I had told Google maps to avoid toll roads. I quickly changed it but was already too far down the road to bother going back to the toll road.

I had to pick a particularly good part of the road to quickly snap a picture with only one hand on the wheel!

So I enjoyed driving down a 2-lane road that declared "no speed limit" (in Spanish of course) for a couple of hours. It was a no shoulder, bumpy and not without giant potholes road, but I gripped the steering wheel and sped along at 90 mph. About half way through the trip a road closed sign appeared and I spent 4 kilometers driving through the gravel ditch (which was where I was supposed to be driving). I was driving 40-45 mph and appreciating the fact that I have an old car that can handle the bumps and rocks and it also doesn't matter if a rock gets kicked up on it. That is, for most of the time. Had to follow, wait for it, a Jeep, going 10 mph for about 5 minutes before I could pass. Seriously, if you drive a Jeep, enjoy your off roading time and don't a) confuse those around you when you don't and b) waste your perfectly good off roading vehicle by driving like it's a Porsche.

Yes, I had to pull up on the dirt pile to let the semi truck get by. Not exactly a two-lane ditch. The actual road is up on the left.

A short interlude in my driving story to share that after I got on the road for Monterrey, I actually opened my Dunkin Donuts bags. I saw my breakfast sandwiched wrapped up but I wanted just one munchkin to spoil it first ;-)  I opened the bag of munchkins to discover 12 munchkins, 6 of each kind! I checked my receipt, and indeed, I'd only been charged for a half dozen, but had been given a full dozen. The sugar gods knew my drive ahead and had granted me a wonderful surprise of munchkins farewell. I thank them.

No caption needed!

I finally made it to Monterrey and got back on the toll roads and headed toward my second gas stop. Unfortunately the place I chose to stop was a lonely station without a price listed so I ended up paying $73 for my 13 gallons of gas. The station attendants were annoying at best asking for pens (that's a thing) and tips. I tipped the guy who washed my window and no one else which is correct but was unhappy with the harassament they showed sticking all their hands at me in the car. My second gas stop was much more normal for Mexico and was very easy and fast and courteous.

I finished my drive with the last half hour after dark. People tell you not to drive after dark in Mexico. There are various reasons. Mine is that I can't see pot holes fast enough to avoid them. There are still plenty of people out on the road and there are road lights most places, but the pot holes are deep and if you hit one, well, let's just say I don't bother getting my car aligned in Mexico. Thankfully, I hit no pot holes and pulled into my San Miguel home at 7 p.m. on the dot.

My friend was there to unlock the house, let me pee, and tell me to lock the car so we could go back to the birthday party he'd just come from. I did and froze because the birthday party was outside!! at night but I got to meet some fabulous new people and have a great time on my first night back in Mexico.

A very long table with about 30 people drinking Mezcal and eating wonderful food!

I've settled in for a few days here before finishing the journey to Guadalajara, enjoying the company of wonderful friends I consider family. After a great nights sleep I've woken early for a fantastic workout and a day enjoying the company of others followed by an afternoon to write and research before a home grilled (yes, grilled!) meal.

Moving Toward Mexico

The time is HERE. People occasionally ask if I'm really going through with it, like it's some kind of initiation or under the table risk. For real, I am moving to Mexico.

Understanding that I don't typcially think inside the box, I'll just put the remaining explanation here:

I moving to Mexico because why not.

There are pros and cons and the pros outweigh the cons. 

Pros:

1. Cheaper living
2. Part-time desireable job lined up
3. Tastier and healthier food
4. Second language immersion
5. New musical opportunities

Cons:

1. Furthur from my home if my parents need me.
2. Expensive gasoline should I be driving around the country or city.
3. Not knowing or understanding how things work like renting or job contracts.
4. Far from the USA should I need something difficult to get or imported from the US.
5. There isn't one.

There are actually a lot more pros I can think of than just those listed but even numbered lists are nice :)

I've lived in Asia and Europe and have traveled through Central and South America, but have never lived there. Moving to a new culture is always a bit of a whirlwind and gut punch all at the same time. Trying to function in a new language and new traditions and cultural expectations is daunting at best.

Yes, it's scary. Even after living in other countries and traveling many places in the Americas, it's still scary. I have no idea how much money I will be making. I don't know yet where I'll be living. I don't know a lot of anything about my immediate future.

But if I let all those unknowns turn into fear that keeps me planted in a routine of comfort and "stability", then I've lost. 

I'm here to win and taking this leap into the unknown will give me the opportunities to learn and grow and help others in more ways than I can now. 

Here's to the new adventure! To unlimited personal growth! To many more stories to share :)

Blisters Well Loved

Truth be told I shouldn't actually have these blisters. They are dance shoe blisters. I only danced for 2 hours. That's nothing.

Right now it's everything.

In the process of finding myself again I went to a monthly contra dance. I used to dance at least once every week. I used to think, if I could be anything I'd be a professional contra dancer (no, that doesn't exist). I used to travel to contra dance weekends and dance 8 hours a day for 3 days straight. Blisters weren't a thing.

A couple of years ago I made some choices that led me down a path I thought would still include contra dancing, but instead left it out. For excuses, for finances, for fun, for whatever, contra dancing just never really happened. Literally, it's been years.

It's sometimes amazing to look back and wonder how much time got past you. How did you let something so vital and beautiful out of your life for so long? I had my reasons, albeit, in hindsight, not good ones.

So tonight, I put on my dancing shoes and headed out on the floor. My shoes haven't been worn in so long the sole is actually cracked from the bottom through to the inside and I didn't know it. The elastic is so stretched out in the ankle buckle the tightest fit is no longer snug. A feeling of shock, horror, unsatisfaction with my life and decisions swept over me when I took out my dance shoes to put them on. How could I let one of the most beautiful parts of my life skip away so effortlessly?

I don't have an answer to share, but I do have a wonderful story of dance and the joy it brings and the joy it shares.

At the contra dance, there weren't many people. I was the 32nd person to show up and I was a half hour late because I got lost. (Yes I have Google maps. No, my phone is not functioning well enough to use it within a 5 minute window).

I brought my usual joy and love of dance and nothing else. I had never danced with anyone at the dance before. I hadn't danced contra in years so my confidence level was really low. After the first dance, it was coming back. My feet knew all the right moves even if my brain couldn't recall all the correct names.

People asked me where I learned to dance, how I learned to dance, and how long I'd been dancing. It blew me away.

There was an uneven number of men to women so I mustered my courage and took on the lead role, a role I was even less confident in and had danced even less in the years I danced contra consistenly. Despite the minor hiccups I noticed, my follows were happy and enthusiastic. After two dances as a lead, a young woman who wanted to learn to lead but was inexperienced and hesitant to do so agreed to lead me. After our dance I was showing her a safe way to spin a follow and as I looked out of the corner of my eye, nearly half the dancers had gathered to listen to my instruction. Again, I was blown away (in a good way).

I got ready to dance as a follow yet again and the gentleman in my square stopped to ask me how I did a particular move. Swings I have done and seen for many years and just did naturally were brand new to the group both as a lead and a follow. I got to show him how to do a simple yet beautiful swing just slightly different than the traditional.

There were two waltzes at the break and end of the dance. I typically don't like a boring waltz but it had been more years than missing contra that I had led a waltz. I didn't want to follow and I did want to waltz so that left me only the option of facing my fear head on and asking a lady to follow my lead. Both of the women I danced with told me they were very happy but what struck me most was the last waltz. The lady said she used to dance all the time and from physical complications hadn't danced in awhile. The waltz moves I did were only ones I've watched others do on the dancefloor and either asked how to do them or just picked them up by watching. But she was amazed and had so much fun. Watching her joy made my night.

I usually cause quite a ruckus when I mess around at contra dances. I kept it extremely tidy at this one, and even the teeny bit of fun I did have was looked down upon by at least one person. There's always one right?

But even with the negative looks and lack of looks or acknowledgment toward me, nothing could change the amazing energy of joy and gratitude I felt from having touched the lives of so many in a positive way. And not just for one dance, but for many to come. The moves I taught, and the tips I showed will be remembered and used to make the dance floor a more wonderful place.

What more could any "professional" contra dancer ask for? Maybe some more well loved blisters.

A Week in a Dead Lady's Home

My vision of typical trips are usually fairly planned: housing, activities, flights, even meals.

My immediate family not so much. Get in the car. Start driving. See what happens.

I'm not usually around for such road trips, but this last one I was the chauffeur. Knowing I don't sleep well, if at all, in a bed right next to my parents, I opted to try to call ahead for a couch at our destination.

I got a lot more than I bargained for!!

My family is friends with the people I called for a couch; pretty good friends I would say. So they did what good friends do: offer the dead lady's house down the street so we can all sleep for free.

Now on the outset this actually sounded like a good deal: a fully furnished house with a couple of rooms so we can sleep peacefully, cook, and live comfortably. The lady hadn't been dead that long so how bad could it be?

Home for the week. Think I won't try to park the car in the garage...

Well, old lady smell aside, the house hadn't been lived in for years. I didn't realize that several years before she died, she'd moved out of the house into a facility elsewhere. With the house not occupied and cleaned only 3 or 4 times a year, it was a much different experience than expected. She also hadn't touched the house since it was built. It was amazing to walk in to another world. The dirt floor root cellar, the 6'garage ceiling, the settled and cracked and uneven floors, the "white" carpet in the bathroom, the orange carpet on the stairs, the two prong outlets on the walls preventing me from charging some of my devices, the kitchen faucet that shut off by moving the handle all the way to either side instead of straight down, the radio vs TV in the living room. Oh, and the snake skin casually hung on the garage wall!

Yes, I ducked every time I walked in to the garage! 

Fishing pole, fishing pole, grill brush, snakeskin...wait, what?!

There was white mold covering most of the hardwood doors and chairs so no closing the bathroom door! Fortunately the kitchen chairs were lacquered and didn't have the mold growing the rest of the wood around the house did so we had someplace to delicately sit.

The dust level was unreal. The house was due for it's tri-anuual cleaning so layers of dust covered everything. Because everything was so dusty and moldy, we chose to forego cooking and lived off of our travel food and our daily dinner out in town. So much for cooking.

Thankful it was free and I wasn't sleeping in a bed next to my parents, I unpacked the car cooler into the fridge (which had been plugged in that day), took off the top blanket on the bed gingerly and laid it aside, stripped the bed and "washed" the sheets in hot water but without soap, and chose not to unpack my backpack, but to instead live out of it for the week to try to keep everything in it a little cleaner.

That first night was a long one. Sleeping on an ancient, rock hard, and seemingly smaller than twin size bed with a pillow full of unknowns that rustled every time you moved made sleeping difficult. I also froze without the blanket :(  At least I got to listen to the chorus of coyotes, owls, crickets, and other creatures outside my window. That indeed was pleasant (I am a country girl after all).

The "doorway" to my room.
Note the "step" down even though the floor is supposed to be level.

The next morning, I awoke to discover the fridge doesn't actually get cold. My milk was spoiled and I was worried for the yogurt and cheese so I plugged the car cooler into the wall (thankfully it's a two prong cord) and put all the cold stuff back inside that was still salvageable. I also woke up sneezing constantly. I would barely get to the trash can to throw away the tissue before I needed the next one. By the end of the week my voice was croaking every morning and I had nasty sinus pressure along with the incessant sneezing.

The "fun" part of the adventure was the lack of cell service and wi-fi. Of course no dead lady's house will have wi-fi in it and we were out in the country (think gravel roads and a house every few miles) so no stealing wi-fi from the business next door or asking the neighbors to use theirs for the week. It was also non existent cell service in the house. It seemed that way in every house so this one was no exception. I use AT&T towers so expected service and totally received it...every time I stepped outside. Yes, if I actually set my phone against the window in the kitchen it would eventually pick up the signal, but I couldn't pick the phone up to use it and keep the signal.

Walking the country road to get some wi-fi!

I did sit on the front steps a little while, but the bugs!!!  Unmown grass and country life breed bugs and insects of many varieties and with no one living there to keep it in some form of check, every critter was moving in and I disturbed them stepping outside the front door. I actually got ants in my pants! :-O

So to say the least, I spent very little time outside to use my cell phone and had to go to the neighboring house (which luckily was only a half mile walk or so) to get some country wi-fi (read not Google Fiber) service.

Lots of wonderful visits happened and I enjoyed my time away from the house that week. I hope it's a long time, if ever again, in my future when I spend a week in a deserted dead lady's house.

Country Road, Take Me Home

Lustfully Wandering Seeming Aimlessly

Life has turned totally tipsy and not in that happy feeling after a couple of tequila shots way, but in that rather unnerving uh-oh, what is going to happen next kind of way.

A couple of years ago I decided to give landlubbering a try again and truth be told, I should have probably not been so foolish since I've learned my lesson before, but I plunged ahead regardless to prior knowledge. Accordingly, it didn't go so swimmingly well and I've been floundering around ever since.

About a year ago, in the midst of swimming headlong upstream, a most unique occurrence happened ~ I acquired a dog. I only acquired a dog in the sense that I now take care of it, but not in the traditional sense of choosing a dog, wanting a dog, nor looking for a dog and dog ownership. This dog decided it was in his best interest that I be the one and only human on planet earth worth his constant attention. Now this little guy is great, fantastic, a joy to play with, and very well trained. However, he's also extremely, highly, completely, utterly, and totally dependent on my existence. What does one do on land with a dog such as this: a dog that could care less about food, toys, treats, the rest of the human population unless I am visibly in the room and obviously staying there?

That's an honest question, as I have yet to find the answer.

So a year after acquiring said dog, I'm doing what all lost children do that have a new child and need help; I've moved in with the best built in baby sitter, Mamaw. How long will I stay? I don't know. Life is limbo.

What I do know is this:

• The last job I had on cruise ships no longer exists (again).
• My long time job (15 yrs) in the Arkansas symphony is teetering on non existent.
• I've got a dog with severe separation anxiety that hasn't improved with any method tried.
• I don't have a giant nest egg of funds to support myself indefinitely.

So, after pursuing a temporary job, a long term flexible job, and other random wandering ideas that have slammed shut rather effectively in my face, I've finally accepted my pre-term midlife crisis.

Since I was a child I have wanted nothing more than to play music for a living. I've done that successfully and unsuccessfully ever sense. The scene has changed and I've barely kept up with it until now. Fewer and fewer cruise ships want classical groups and the major one I worked for years ago, now tells the musicians what to play, when to play, and how to play the music. The following of supporters I amassed was from getting to know my audience each cruise, playing what they liked and how they liked it. Performing as a robot doesn't win the audience on cruises (as the reviews for the new groups have shown) nor is it a desirable way to work for me.

Symphony orchestra on land have been my bread and butter between cruise ship gigs. These orchestras are financially suffering like all the others, and the remedy for that is to hire more people locally even if they're not professional. It saves thousands of dollars to not pay mileage and hotel costs for so many musicians to travel in for the concert and rehearsal week. Unfortunately, I don't want to live in any of the cities that would require me to stay. Nor would the income generated by performing there support me in any way living locally instead of traveling from hotel room to hotel room (no rent to pay). So the job I've loved and had for so long is no longer really able to hire me except on occasion.

What in the world am I going to do?

With the support of friends and family, I've chosen to make a drastic change. I have no idea what the outcome will be and if I'll be successful, but I'm going to give it the best shot I can. 

From full time musician to travel writer and tour guide.

At the Beach!

Dali Museum Tour

Hard at work in a local coffee shop.

I've moved to Planet Ronda

Hello all my faithful readers. It's been a long time and I apologize. I've been working on a new venture that will hopefully lead to better and brighter things in my future.

I've started a new website called Planet Ronda. There I'm posting shorter and more frequent blog posts. Check them out and let me know what you think.

In addition to the blog posts, I'm starting a new YouTube channel called Planet Ronda. Those videos are linked on my website and you can also just subscribe to Planet Ronda on YouTube for weekly videos.

It's been a lot of hard work and I'm trying to make a go of it to see if everyone out there really does want to read more and learn more of what goes on behind the scenes on Planet Ronda. If so, it should be a good future for me.

I welcome any and all ideas; both positive and negative criticism.

Thank you for all the wonderful times spent reading here at Blogger and I hope you all join me over on Planet Ronda real soon!

Cheers :)

Europe Trip 2016 ~ Last week in Malyn & Athens + Carnival Dream

This blog is scattered because I've been trying to write it for over two months in bits and pieces. Sometimes my writing just falls off the train and can't seem to get back on again.

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The end has arrived to my amazing and adventurous trip to Europe. It didn't end at all the way I expected but then, my plans are merely suggestions where my life is concerned.

After the Carnival cruise, I flew back to Kiev and headed home to Malyn for what was originally going to be a couple of weeks. When I arrived I learned my Ukrainian sister had moved out and it was much colder than I was anticipating. I enjoyed the last few days with my adopted family there, trying desperately to stay warm, and then headed to Athens for a surprise and impromptu week vacation. When I checked the weather while I was in Kiev, it was almost 80 degrees, but when I got here, so did late fall/winter. Instead of the shorts and t shirts I was hoping to wear, I did laundry and went back to the jeans and sweaters. Still, I wasn't wearing two of everything and wishing for my winter coat, gloves, and scarf. Athens was lovely again. I spent days enjoying delicious food and getting a chance to relax. Then one day after dinner, I returned to the condo to check my email and discovered I had an urgent request from Carnival for another cruise. Luckily I had everything with me....except the music.

Life Story: Music Acquisition.

When I got the email from Carnival, I had 3 days before I had to fly to the ship. Neither Earle nor I expected a contract on such short notice so soon so we had mailed our duo music binders back to my home. No one was there when the package arrived obviously and no one was going to be. So there was a FedEx package sitting on the front porch that we desperately needed but couldn't get. I called FedEx and told them the situation and asked if the next day they could pick up the package and send it two day shipping to Earle in the States since he was leaving a day after me. I spent over five hours on the phone with them, setting up an account, figuring out the shipping issues, and confirming the situation in the notes. Finally it worked and I breathed a sigh of relief that even though I hadn't slept that night and wouldn't get to sleep much the next, at least I'd get to sleep the third night before boarding the ship. About 12 hours later I checked the tracking number of the package and it said it wasn't readable. So I called up FedEx to see what was happening. Oh, they replied, no one was home so the driver didn't pick up the package. I wanted to scream. After all the notes I'd written in the order and the representative had written in my account, the driver didn't pick up the order. Now it was too late for the driver to go back and get it and have it delivered to Earle in time. The little sleep I thought I'd get that night just flew out the window. I spent that night downloading all the music again and sorting it into printing folders. The next morning I finished packing my bags (realized I hadn't showered in two days and since it had been cloudy the previous day the hot water tanks weren't charged so I had no hot water to shower that morning either) and took off for the airport. I had paid an extra $100 upgrade to bulkhead for the international flight so I could put up my feet and therefore be able to walk off the plane. My brother Murphy came along for the flight though an for the first time in my life that I was denied the privilege of putting up my feet. Instead, they gave me two of the pull out trays from the push carts and I stacked my book bag on top of that for a foot rest. After I got to my final destination it was almost 10 p.m. and I was exhausted because I hadn't slept on the connecting flight either. Once I arrived in New Orleans, I connected to the airport wifi (as I still didn't have US phone service), called Earle to check in, and went to the hotel I was assigned. As expected (not really), the hotel did not have my reservations so I spent an hour on hold with off hour assistance trying to get that sorted. They were very helpful and I got a reservation in the hotel for the night. Now it was time to print the music I had downloaded. I dropped my stuff off in the room and went to the business center. I was very fortunate that the night desk clerk was kind and helpful and gave me a couple reams of paper and a three whole punch, lots of paper clips, and rubber bands. It was unfortunate that the printer did not print double sided so I had a huge pile of music by the time I had finished that wasn't going to fit in any binder we had. But, I did finish by the next morning when I returned to the room, showered (finally) and drug my luggage back downstairs to wait for the shuttle to the ship. Music acquired!

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Weeks and weeks have gone by and I have started writing a sentence only to get distracted. Starting backwards, I'm writing quickly in the Miami airport waiting for my flight to Mahogany Bay, Jamaica where I'll board the Carnival Dream for a couple of weeks. I can't wait! Why?

Before this last week I spent an amazing three weeks aboard the Dream, performing, rehearsing, forming friendships, playing tourist, and living the usual no sleep life I live.

This last week I've been performing in the inaugural concert for the Arkansas Symphony. We played Mozart Symphony 35 (Haffner), Respighi Pines of Rome, Ruslan and Lyudmilla Overture, and my favorite, the Korngold violin concerto. The Sat. night concert was the best and the house was packed. It was wonderful to return and see my friends there and play in the new hall and be a part of something so big. Grateful I was able to participate!

I wasn't sure by playing in that ASO concert that I'd be able to return to the ship however. Of course I wanted to but it took a lot of work to make it happen. So thankful to say it did workout so I could return to the Dream.

The Dream is doing alternate 7 day routes including Cozumel, Jamaica, Honduras, Grand Cayman, and Belize. Lots of sunshine. Lots of new friends. Lots of music. Lots of happiness :)

I apologize for the lack of pictures in the post. Wifi has been either ship wifi or 30 minute limit like I'm on now in the airport so the luxury to peruse through google photos, edit, and upload has not been available. I'll see what I can do in the near future. Hopefully I'll keep much better notes while I'm cruising to be able to share the silly stories that are almost daily events.

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After wifi and computer struggles of every shape and sort, I'm finally at a restaurant in NOLA finishing typing this entry so I can start on the next! Happy reading, happy traveling, and HAPPY HOLIDAYS :)