~ Remember that time I went on a trip? ~

It's taking me forever to tell you about our trip. Stupid FT job. It takes up all my free time. And even stupider commute, if we're not working or sleeping...we're driving. 11 days until the move!!! It can't come soon enough. We're tired of feeling like prisoners in our own home.

So...to re-cap.

North Carolina

" Will m'lady be needing a box?"

Nascar

Metallica

Churches, churches, churches

Water Falls

So you think you can Dance

Chicken - really that's all they eat.

Next on the adventure was Phoenix. This was a welcome change in temperature. Charlotte was having it's coldest October on record. Of course they were, we were there. Layers layers layers were on tap in Charlotte. Never even looked at the shorts and flip flops.

Phoenix however, a glorious 30 degrees.

There wasn't a direct flight from Charlotte to Phoenix. We had to fly through Cleavland. I don't know much about US Geography...but it seems that Cleavland is not anywhere near Phoenix. I also didn't consider the time zones and all the nonsense. Flight from Charlotte to Cleavland is about an hour. No big deal. Cleavland to Phoenix....I wrongly assumed was about 2...uh, time zones told me otherwise. Flight was more than 4 hours.

Hello Terminator Salvation.

That's what we watched. I'm not a big Terminator fan...but I do appreciate the DNA of Christian Bale. He has a very reclusive manner about him. I'm not attracted to that at all, but in him, its appealing.

Then discovered the humor of The Adventures of Old Christine. I've added it to my list of watching.

Flight, our first one left at 6:00...AM. Those are never fun...you have to get up at like 4 am...that is not a time that I am awake. So I'm dead tired. Spend all of the first flight trying to sleep, but who really sleeps well on an airplane. Plus it was a smaller plane, so it was loud.

Cleavland plane was larger. Three seats, aisle, three more seats. The average size.

Okay, that's it about the flights, cause there was nothing exciting that happened.

Phoenix is the polar opposite to Charlotte. Practically no trees, and if there are some, they're Palm Trees. Crazy amounts of traffic, commerce and big box stores everywhere. Desert, cactus and luscious sunny days.

We got our rental car and headed out for another adventure, and got promptly lost. Now, this was neither intentional nor expected. The map was wrong. That's what I say....where the map showed us, and the GPS, and the signs....and where were actually were...well they didn't match up. Anyway, delayed start to fun in the sun.

Found our condo, couldn't get in. The day is just getting better and better. This was a gated community, which means there's a gate, with a code. It would seem that you need to enter the correct code in order for it to open. I was given a code...it was not correct.

So here we are, in a city that is not our own, loaded with luggage and anticipation...have our home away from home in our sights...can't get in. Call my friend/client/condo owner. No answer. Lovely.

Fortunately nice landscape man not only entered the right code, but told us what it was. It wasn't close to the code she had given us.

FINALLY, we get in. And it's fantastic. Not huge, but well decorated, right by the pool...and we have it all to our selves for the next 5 days.

Feels like 4:00 to us, it's noon.

Went to eat. In and Out Burger. Is the burger coming out of the closet? It was fine.

Put on our swim suits, loaded up on sunscreen, covered up...well I did cause there were 20 maintenance guys repainting the place...and as it was I was a spectacle in my white ness...never named my swim suited-ness.

Ready to lay by the pool, in OCTOBER, work on my tan...and enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

Can't open the gate. Is this sounding like a broken record??!?!? Is there a sneaky guy who thinks it's funny to tell you one code, but that's not actually the code you need....no, it's a completely different code.

So I walk back to the condo, under the watchful eye of the maintenance guys. Casey keeps trying the code, the wrong code, of course. I call friend/client/condo owner again. She gives me the code...it's not the code she originally gave me. This is becoming irritating.

Get back to the pool, Casey is already arranging the loungers and get ready to bask.

"How did you get in? That was the wrong code?

"I reached over the gate and turned the handle"

"Oh"

Rest of the day, basking, eating, and dead asleep by 8:00.