Going Home – Part Five

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At Dublin Airport, I realized that I would sleep with any of the men there, as long as they talked to me the entire time. Readers, that statement may shock you – especially the guys who are nice enough to read my scribbles on here, but you would feel the same way if you heard those pretty Irish accents.

Going Home – Part Four

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I picked the Chicken Korma – and I have to say that it was probably the best curry I’ve had in years. But the most wonderful part of dinner was that I got to spend it with my beautiful Auntie Janet (who has no bobble heads like Auntie Doreen), my cousins Steve & Lindsey (Janet’s kids), and their respective families.

Going Home – Part Three

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What I didn’t mention in my previous post, was that the day I arrived in England, my cousin’s hot water heater went kaput. She was mortified. I was not at all concerned. What did I care about taking a shower/bath? I had a comfy bed, and chocolate in the fridge.

Return to the Old Towne

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Take it from me, when flying any long haul, the seats in business class are well worth the upgrade. Instead of sitting in a row of uncomfortable people, feeling like a bratwurst in a packet of hotdogs, I got to stretch out languidly, curl into a horizontal fetal position and cover myself with a real blanket. And then I promptly passed into a drug induced sleep for about two hours.

The Journey Begins…..

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It has been a very long time since I have checked in with the blog. Most of you know it’s because I have been off gallivanting across Europe, ignoring all my responsibilities in the USA.

The Great American West….

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This past week I was fitted with a new mouth guard at the dentist. Apparently the purpose of this is to protect my teeth, and the millions of dollars I have spent on them, because at night, while dreaming about Mark Wahlberg, I grind my teeth.