It pays to be early

As someone who hates being late, I've never missed a flight in my life. 

My husband and I planned a trip to Turks and Caicos for our 4th wedding anniversary. It's a small island in the Caribbean between Haiti and Jamaica. Our flight was scheduled to leave at 1:55 p.m. Tuesday and we live about 40 minutes from the airport. We left our house a little after 11 a.m. heading to a parking lot near the airport. We leisurely drove to the lot. When we arrived at noon and started pulling out the suitcases from the trunk. I noticed the small travel bag containing all of our regular-size toiletries, the video camera and a couple of other items wasn't in the trunk. This was the only bag we were planning to check. 

We checked the backseat and realized the bag was at home.

We looked at our watches and wondered if we had time to drive home, grab the bag and drive back to the airport without missing our flight.

We decided to try it.

"You have to drive 90 all the way if we're going to do this," I said to my husband.

He didn't mind. We were in my BMW 328i - a car that's designed to be driven fast.

We made it to our exit on the New Jersey Turnpike in record time - about 15 minutes - only to hit a parking lot of traffic after we payed the toll. I started to worry. I called American Airlines to find out if our flight was on time. It was.

"Great!" I said. "When you need your flight to be late, it's not."

We had a layover in Miami. So, I asked if there was another flight to Miami that day. There wasn't.

We got through the traffic and pulled up in front of our home. I ran inside the house, snatched the bag and sprinted back. 

My husband again put the petal to the metal as we headed back to the airport. It was 12:35 p.m.

I didn't say a word during the trip.  I prayed the entire way - prayed that we would make it, that we wouldn't get a ticket and that my husband wouldn't lose control of the car after hitting 100 mph more than a few times.

If we missed the flight, it would delay our trip a day and we'd have to pay for a night at the hotel when we'd be sleeping in our own bed that night.

We got to the parking lot at 1:05 - again record time. We left the keys to the car and the parking lot employee told us the van would be back in two minutes to get us. We stepped outside to wait for the van. There was another man also waiting. My husband asked if he had been waiting long.

"About five minutes. Even though the guy inside said the van would be here in two minutes. And I'm in a rush," he said.

"We're rushing, too," I said. "What time is your flight?"

"2:15 p.m.," the man said.

"We're 1:55 p.m.," I replied, thinking what I would give for a 2:15 p.m. flight right now.

When the van pulled up. I told the driver that we were all rushing.

We got to the airport at 1:15 p.m. 

I went to a kiosk and started checking in, but got a notice that we were checking in too late and we should see an agent.  

"Ugh," I screamed.

I turned around and noticed about 10 people in line waiting to check in with the agent. 

"We have a 1:55 flight. Do you mind if we go next?" I asked. 

No one objected. Thank God.

The agent overrode the computer, but said it was too late to check any bags.

"You have to get rid of your liquids," she said.

"The bag is full of liquids," I said.

"Do you want to go or do you want your liquids," she asked.

We immediately started throwing out our full-sized liquids. Shampoo, conditioner, shaving gel, face scrub, mouse, sunblock. It was ironic since we went home to get the bag with the liquids that we ended up throwing them out.

The agent issued the tickets, I thanked the folks in line again and we ran to security.

While in line, I noticed that my husband's boarding pass had the wrong name it - Cara. 

"Just act natural. Don't say anything and maybe he won't noticed. We don't have time to go back," I said.

My husband handed the security agent his passport and boarding pass.

"I think you handed me your wife's," the agent said, after noticing a woman's name on the paper.

The agent looked at my boarding pass, looking for a man's name, and when he didn't find one, he informed my husband that he had to go back to the ticket agent.

"You go through security," my husband said. "I'll catch up with you."

"I'm not getting on the plane without you," I said.

At this point, I started freaking out all over again as I pictured the plane taking off without us. 

I was halfway through the security screening line, when I turned around to see my husband running to join me with his new ticket.

We made it through security, but weren't in the clear yet - we still had to get to the gate.

I've always thought it was kind of funny to see people running through the airport like their life depended on it. Now, it was our turn.

Thank God I had spent the last month running four miles a day to get bikini ready. It prepared me for the sprint through the airport. We were flying. People were laughing, telling us to slow down and getting out of our way. It was crazy.

We got to the gate and were met with a smiling agent who looked like she knew what we had just gone through to make to the gate. She gladly scanned our tickets and we boarded the plane.

Whew! We barely made it!

Heelairous? Not so much!

Two stay-at-home moms, Britta Bacon and Hayden Porter, created Heelarious, a soft high-heel shoe for baby girls, age 0 to 6 months.

The women, who live in Bellevue, Wa., describe the shoes as an "extremely funny, completely soft, fully functional high-heel crib shoes for babies.”

They sell for $35 a pair and come in a variety of colors, including hot pink and a leopard satin print. Each shoe is named, from Brooke to Sophie to Kate, whose style will retire soon. The ladies have received a ton of press about their collapsible high heels, including being featured on The Today Show to Good Morning America and in People magazine.

I know the shoes are a joke, but there's a decent size heel on every shoe. Most six-month-olds aren't walking yet, but there are exceptions, so can you imagine a baby trying to walk on a shoe with a collapsed heel on the bottom? It's as if the baby will be walking with a lump on the bottom of her foot.

The Heelarious shoes made me think of the thong underwear that was marketed to girls 10 to 16 years old by Abercombie and Fitch.

"It's cute and fun and sweet," said Hampton Carney, spokesman for the company based in New Albany, Ohio.

But one parent, quoted in a Milwaukee paper, said "It's Frederick's of Hollywood for preteens and teenagers."

Why does a 10-year-old need a thong? And why does a two-month-old need high-heeled shoes? They don't!

Let little girls be little girls. That 10-year-old has the rest of her life to wonder if her pantyline is showing through her skirt. And the two-month-old has the rest of her life to wear heels. Parents are allowing their children to grow up too fast. Young girls shouldn't be subjected to aspects of the lives of grown women.

It's too early for Halloween

I was running through my neighborhood yesterday and I passed a house with Halloween decorations up. These weren't Fall decorations, like a pumpkin on the porch or a scarecrow in the yard. They were legitimate Halloween decorations - skeletons and ghosts hanging from tree branches and a big witch slumped on the porch.

I immediately thought "It's too early for Halloween."

Yesterday was the last day of summer, so technically, this family brought out the decor before the calendar said Autumn. I shook my head after realizing that Halloween is 40 days away.

I'm sure we've all gone into stores, like Target and Wal-Mart, where the day after Christmas, they already have the Valentine's decorations up. Or the day after St. Patrick's Day, the employees are pulling out the Easter bunnies. I looked through the Sunday circulars to see if stores were already advertising Halloween stuff and they were. Target has one page of Fall decor, which includes a candy dish that reads "Cast a Spell" and a little tree with spiders and cats hanging from its branches. It's not overkill. CVS, on the other hand, is already selling Halloween costumes, tons of decorations and candy. And A.C. Moore's four-page ad is stocked with Halloween goodies.

Retail corporations have been pushing holidays on consumers for years, but we have control over how early we push them on ourselves. I wonder how early this family will have their Christmas tree or Hanukkah lights up.

Artful handwriting

I start an eight-week calligraphy course tonight and I'm super excited about it.

I've been interested in learning calligraphy for more than a year now and tried to take this "boot camp" course before. The last time I registered for it, the class was canceled because not enough people signed up. Hearing the disappointment in my voice when I told my older sister the course wasn't going to happen, she gave me a calligraphy pen set and a how-to book on the artful handwriting, but it was so hard to teach myself.

I've always been told I have a neat handwriting and I like the way I write. The calligraphy teacher said my penmanship was "expressive" after she saw my hand-written registration form. Hopefully, that's a good sign that I will easily pick up the talent.

When I mentioned the class to a friend, she said she's been looking for an "adult-handwriting class." She said her handwriting is horribly embarrassing and wants to improve it. I literally laughed out loud when she told me about her class search. I found a class in Pennsylvania that promises to: increase legibility of print or cursive styles, increase fluency and speed, reduce pain in fingers or hands when writing and improve pencil grasp for greatest efficiency of movement. Too bad my friend lives in D.C. She could have signed up for this class. She's yet to find a class in her area.

While admiring my new talent, I also hope to make some money by addressing envelopes, writing invitations, etc. The average calligrapher charges $2 an envelop and the average bride and groom invites 150 people to their wedding. That could be a quick $300 bucks. I'm a true believer that an invitation sets to the tone for an event and I love to receive invitations scribed by a calligrapher.

I'm looking forward to sculpting words into art.

Vaction spot is in the eye of the storm

My husband and I go on a big trip every year for our anniversary. The first year was Paris, second was Savannah, Ga., the third was South Africa and this October we're headed to Turks and Caicos. We hope.

Turks and Caicos (T&C) is a small island in the Caribbean. It's south of the Bahamas, east of Cuba and north of the Dominican Republic. And with the last two hurricanes - Gustav and Hanna - T&C has been in the eye of the storm. And weather forecasters are already talking about Ike.
September is the height of hurricane season and even though we're only eight days in, it's been very busy.

I frequent the forums on tripadvisor.com, a website for travelers. There's a forum for just about every place in the world, so lately, I've been on the T&C forum. There are tons of people posting messages about their travel plans - or trip reports - the best hotels, what to do and where the foodies should eat. When I logged onto trip advisor this morning, all of the talk was about Hanna and the damage she left in T&C. Some of the resorts are closed at least until Ike blows through. One traveler, who was scheduled to stay at The Sands in T&C this weekend, was told her reservation had been transferred to the The Sands in Jamaica. Wow!

Locals who work in the hotels, bars, restaurants and the airport, those who essentially who make the tourism industry happen, have packed up and gone home. Sometimes people forget that just because they have booked a vacation, that without the workers, there is no vacation.

I called the resort my husband and I will be staying for hopefully six glorious days and it's fine now and hopefully, that will be the case after Hurricane Ike.

I'm hoping things will settle down by October, but if they don't, I've put some safeguards in place: today, I bought trip insurance.

Where's the diversity?

I wasn't nearly excited about watching the Republican National Convention as I was the Democratic National Convention, but thought I'd tune in anyway.

The first thing I noticed about the crowd in Minnesota was the lack of diversity.

"This doesn't represent America," I said out loud.

The members of the GOP looked just as happy as the Dems did last week. They were cheering, clapping and wearing those silly hats. But what was missing from the GOP crowd was the beautiful diversity America offers. I admit, I only watched about 45 minutes, but in that time, I only noticed three blacks and one Hispanic, the rest were white men and women, many wearing cowboy hats. But the diversity during the Democratic convention was so apparent, that I didn't even notice it, if that makes sense. It took not seeing many black or brown faces to realize how diverse the Democratic party really is.

As someone who is extremely liberal, I don't understand how anyone can be a Republican, and I often feel sad for them. But last night, I felt especially sad for the GOP. I wondered if they noticed the lack of diversity. I can only guess probably not because their party doesn't mirror the real world.

Are you packing?

My husband and I leave for Ohio tomorrow for the holiday weekend to see my older sister and her family and I haven't packed a stitch of clothing!

That's not like me. I hate last-minute packing, but it was a last-minute decision to take the trip, hence we're driving the nine hours to get there. I love my sister and all, but I refuse to shell out $900 for a plane ticket to the mid-west. Plus, I've been crazy busy this week and haven't had a chance to even pull out my Coach weekend bag. I bought this bag in hopes that my husband would whisk me away for the weekend. That hasn't happened.

But I digress.

Since my husband travels a lot for work, he's become an expert packer. All he needs is about 15 minutes to throw a few pairs of pants and shirts in a suitcase. He has a few pairs of socks, undershirts, boxers and a set of toiletries that always stay packed, so he will be ready to head out in a moments notice. And he normally wears the same pair of shoes he travels in.

I, on the other hand, take forever to pack. No matter where we're going - a casual few days in Memphis, my hometown, or Paris, France, I stress over what to bring. I pull out outfits, lay them on the bed then accessorize jewelry and shoes. I always overpack, no matter how many shirts, skirts, dresses or pants I put back in the closet. I must have been crazy to think that I was only going to bring a carry-on for two weeks in South Africa. Ha! That turned out to be a horrible packing experience. I pretty much turned our guest bedroom into my closet for a week while I carefully packed my checked bag. There were clothes everywhere.

Once I decide exactly what to bring, then there's the actual packing the suitcase. Is it better to roll or fold? Everyone I've talked with says roll. I usually roll stuff that won't wrinkle easily and lay clothes across the rolled clothes that will require an iron if I would have rolled them. I don't believe in ironing, which is why my dry cleaning bill is so expensive. I rather pay to have it dry cleaned and professionally pressed than to lug out an ironing board.

So, as I'm typing this blog, I'm thinking about what to take to Ohio. Dresses would be the easiest choice because it's one item a day. And considering it's 12:45 a.m. Friday as I'm finishing this entry, (I started writing at 2 p.m., but got called away to cover some breaking news) the packing may have to wait until the very last minute - the morning.

How you doin'?

That's radio and now television talk-show host Wendy Williams' catch phrase.

You have to say the "doin'" very exaggerated.

If Wendy Williams were to ask me that, I'd have to tell her not good and it's her fault!

I love, love, love Wendy Williams, but had to stop the love last week when I tried to see her new daytime talk show, The Wendy Williams Show on FOX. She had a six-week run in four markets. Her radio show on WBLS is broadcast out of New York City, so that's where the show was taped.

I requested tickets as soon as the website went up, which was about two months ago. I finally received an email about a week ago, confirming me for Thursday, during the last week of the six-week run. I was super excited - one I was going to see Wendy Williams in person for a length of time, and two, I was spending the day in my beloved NYC!

According to the show directions, guests had to be in line before 11 a.m. for the 1 p.m. taping. My friend, Erica, and I arrived at 10:35 a.m. and were numbers 66 and 67. We were given blue tickets, which meant we were guaranteed a spot in the studio audience, according to a crew member. Folks who arrived after 11 a.m. received yellow tickets and no guarantee.

We waited, in the hot sun, slowly moving closer to the door. Occasionally, a crew member would come out and make an announcement and apologize for the long wait.

"It's taking them forever to move people through security," she explained.

We continued to wait.

One hour passed.

More announcements about security and heartless apologies.

Two hours passed.

There were four people separating Erica and me from the door. I could even feel the cool air from inside as it opened.

Then, a different crew member - the bearer of bad news - came out and said that the studio was full. She explained that Wendy Williams had invited too many of her friends and more seats than usual were reserved for VIP.

And here I was thinking I was VIP with my now useless blue ticket.

People cursed. Arms were folded across chests. Someone even threw something. I couldn't make it out, but I think it was that darned blue ticket!

"The best we can do is put you in the 'How you doin'?' room. There's coffee and Munchkins in there and Wendy will greet you after the show," she said.

What?! Did I just stand in the hot sun for two hours getting lied to over and over about gaining entry into the studio? Incredible! I was pissed.

So, Erica and I left in a huff and went to the closest bar we could find and drank our lunch: a pitcher of white sangria.

Wendy Williams' show was picked up for a full season beginning next year. Good for her. Hopefully she will save more seats for the true fans, those who wait in line for hours just to get a glimpse of her big blond wig, than her friends.

What in the world did we walk into?

I'm sure that's what my parents were thinking Saturday as we walked around the Jersey City LGBT (Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender) Pride Festival.

My parents were in town from Memphis for a few days and my husband and I took them to Jersey City for a couple of open houses because we're considering moving to that area. On the way to the third home, we passed a festival. Music was blaring. Balloons were flying. And there was a smell of grease in the air. We decided to stop to get something to drink and see what was going on.

I think I noticed the rainbow flags first, because a few minutes after realizing what kind of festival it was, my mother asked, "Is this a gay event?"

Now, my parents are uber religious and ultra conservative. They're the kind who pray that homosexuals find their way back to the land of straightness, since God certainly didn't allow them to be born that way.

I, on the other hand, believe people are born the way God intended - lesbian, gay, straight, bisexual, transgender, etc.

So, I turned to my mother, not sure what expression I'd see on her face, and told her that it was an LGBT event. Her reply: "Oh."

We walked around for about 45 minutes, got something to drink, listened to a woman sing Gladys Knight and the Pips' "Neither One of Us," which my parents enjoyed, and got some goodie bags.

On the way to the car, my mother asked my father if he was looking. There were tons of men in tight shorts and no shirts; women wearing short skirts and the occasional drag queen. And love was in the air - men kissing men, women holding the hand of their girlfriends, a butt grab, a back rub. You get the picture. No one in the crowd was shy.

My father said he wasn't looking. My mother said she was looking enough for the both of them. They laughed.

I think the festival was slight culture shock for my parents. There is a gay community in Memphis, but they don't frequent it. I thought it was good for my parents to see that the LGBT community is just like any other community - looking for friendship, companionship, acceptance and love.

What's the point of deodorant?

I'm asking this in jest. I know exactly why we wear deodorant - so we won't stink.

But I forgot to put on deodorant this morning. There are no offensive smells yet because I haven't broken a sweat today. My office is cold and I'm hoping there won't be breaking news that will send me into the streets for hours on end to bake in the hot sun. If that happens, forgot it!

When I told my younger sister that I forgot to put on deodorant, she said that's like saying I forgot to brush my teeth.

But to me, it's not. I love to brush my teeth. I'm a serial brusher and flosser. My dentist told me that if I keep it up, I'll have my teeth for life. But I have to verbally remind myself to put on deodorant. When I get out of the shower, if I don't remember to take the Secret Platinum out of the drawer, there's a good chance, the powder fresh smell may not make it to my underarms. Some people put on deodorant right after bathing, but I wait until after I put on my clothes, so it won't smear on my shirt or dress.

Egyptians are credited with creating deodorant - or at least a substance to kill underarm smell. Armpits are consistently the warmest places on people's bodies. They used carob, incense and porridge. Mum, which resembles today's form of deodorant was created in 1888 by an unknown inventor from Philadelphia. Since then, deodorant has evolved and is combined with antiperspirants, which attempt to stop or significantly reduce perspiration.

With deodorants so readily available, everyone doesn't use them. Cultures and individuals differ in their beliefs about the need for deodorant, and on whether bodily odors are offensive. While I respect other's cultures, unless you're a baby or young child, you need to wear deodorant. And even some kids need deodorant.

So, hopefully, I will get through the day without sweating. And the point may be mute by tonight, but the first thing I'm going to do when I get home is to put on some deodorant!