A year ago I worked a half day to get the paychecks from our payroll provider ready to go out to the stores. I left at 1 and Gene and I took the dogs to the kennel and we finished packing. We were waiting for the car service to take us to the airport but trick or treaters came first so we gave them whatever we could find in the pantry. And the the car came and our adventure began. Cocktails at the airport here, tipsy stroller stalking in the most beautiful part of the airport I’ve ever been in. Video games and movies on the way to Germany, running through Frankfurt to get to our flight (seriously, a 40 minute layover??? really???). More video games and movies on the way to Kuala Lumpur, a migraine, my first exposure to the yumminess that is chicken sausage (seriously – delicious). Landing in Malaysia, trading our dollars for ringgit, finally breathing fresh air for the first time in 2 days (migraine disappeared), the taxi ride to the Marriott Renaissance Hotel and then we were there.
I wish I was headed for that adventure today, too. (Gene’s new client is Uncle Sam, though, so no chance of Exotic Foreign Travel unless the Eff Dee Eigh opens a branch in the Far East). The entire two weeks – crazy taxi drivers, milky oatmeal, fish pedicures (!), strange TV channels, and feeling like I was the only American in the whole city – are wall to wall memories. When I’m feeling down, when I need a break, when I feel like my life has gone nowhere, I go to those two weeks. They are my happy place.