Dear 2020: An Open Letter

This year so far--and I fully realize we've not yet managed to make it to the end of February--has been a bit of a dumpster fire. We started off full of hope and cautious optimism about all the wonderful things a new year could bring...and as of now, it's definitely shown out. In an effort to get this thing back on the rails, I've written an open letter to 2020. Let's hope this hussy will listen to reason.

Dear 2020,

Hey girl, it's me. I know you're busy stirring the pot in Washington, burning through Australia, and sprinkling that coronavirus around like pixie dust, but we need to talk. I am certainly not one who is opposed to being sassy and feisty, but if you keep going on this way, you are going to wind up sitting alone in the cafeteria. Not only are we going to refuse to let you eat lunch with the cool kids, someone is probably going to spit gum in your hair when you aren't looking. And you will have earned it. You've got to slow down.

You've only had a couple of months to show off--that's less than 8 weeks--and already, you've pulled some punches. The South hasn't seen the sun shine for more than two hours at a time, the Super Bowl commercials were lackluster once again, and even the royals have fallen apart on us. 2020, you've done such a whammy, Harry and Meghan had to STEP AWAY. A man who all too closely resembles Doc Brown from Back to the Future may (Great Scott!) be the Democratic nominee for President. Do you see what you've done? For the love of God, play nicely, would you?

Honey, this is getting out of hand.

I'm not saying it has to all be sunshine and butterfly kisses. But so far this year, I've lost my 17-year old dog (who was both my best friend and my full-time job, leaving me alone and unemployed), nursed my husband through food poisoning and a man cold, watched my beloved Tigers lose the college football national championship game to the LSU Tigers, had no less than six tornados delay a weekend getaway, and endured some incredibly fun home improvement ventures along the way. Heck, when I finish this plea letter, I'm about to head upstairs to clean and disinfect my guest bedroom and bath. My poor mother came for a visit and left with the stomach flu. One minute we were shopping, laughing, and loving life, and the next, we were up to our, er, elbows in Tylenol and Pepto Bismol, and Lysol, oh my! Since burning down the entire house is not an option, I'm going to rent a hazmat suit and get to work trying to remedy the aftermath. There will be germs and probably some tears, but hey: that's 2020, am I right?

In an effort to cheer myself, I perused an article of "20 Things to Look Forward to in 2020." I'm afraid I walked away more depressed than when I started. Do you know what you've got in store for us, 2020? According to my research, your idea of fun is the summer Olympics, the elections (groan), and a Sonic the Hedgehog movie. 2020, you need to raise your standards. At the very least, get that Designing Women reboot moving along, could you?

Right now, those of us living in your year feel you're being just a touch petty, and a dash spiteful. There's no need to flex all your muscle right out of the starting gate. Tomorrow is national margarita day, so maybe, 2020, you can just sip your cocktail, let your hair down, and relax a bit. Try showing us your softer side, and hopefully we can even learn to like each other before the year is over. I hope you can think about what you've done, talk to Jesus about it, and get right with yourself and the Lord. This I ask for all our sakes, have mercy, amen.

Take it easy (for real),

All of Us

2020, you've already outdone yourself. So QUIT.

When the Going Gets Tough: A Long Bahamas Weekend

Many of you already know that the last week in January was a tough one for us; without getting into too much sadness, we lost our awesome little furry sidekick Cotton after 17 years. We were sad, it was raining, the house was empty, and I wondered out loud, "Where is an all-expenses paid trip to the Bahamas when you really need it?" Clint disappeared upstairs to his home office and returned a half hour later with the answer to that ponderance: it wasn't exactly all-expenses paid, but we had enough airline miles and hotel rewards points to take ourselves to the Atlantis resort (also known as our happy place) for a long weekend. I grabbed my self tanner and fistful of bathing suits, and I was ready to escape.

We headed to the airport Thursday around 11:00 a.m. for our flight, but because things happen to us that don't happen to anyone else, when we arrived at the nearby Park 'n' Go to leave our car, chaos ensued. The gate attendant yelled to us that there was a tornado spotted in the area and they were not letting anyone in to park, and also added that Charlotte Douglas International airport had been evacuated (this was not, in fact, true: the FAA tower had been evacuated but the airport does not typically force travelers outside in the event of a tornado). We quickly made our way across the street and took refuge with several other nervous travelers in the lobby of the Holiday Inn.

All this action happened about the time we tried to leave town on Thursday.
If it weren't for bad luck...

It turns out that Charlotte didn't have one tornado on Thursday: we had six. Once things seemed to have settled on the storm front, we made our way to the very crowded, very turmoiled airport to find out (no surprise) that our flight was delayed. Then cancelled. And then, at the very last minute, we were rebooked on another flight that was leaving NOW. We hustled for the gate, with Clint admonishing me that we had no time to purchase the gossip magazines and peanut M&Ms I had clutched in my hot little hands. We boarded the plane, and it seemed that we were actually a "go" for takeoff...until, we weren't. The storms were south of us and preventing us from making our route from North Carolina to Nassau. We waited on the tarmac for almost two hours (oh, how I could have used those gossip magazines to fill the void!) and then, miraculously, got on our way. We made it to the Atlantis resort on Paradise Island just in time for dinner. Hallelujah!

We made it! After enjoying some lobster and conch salad for dinner, we strolled around the resort.

Thank heavens, we woke up Friday morning to a gorgeous, eighty degree, sunny day. We lounged by the pool, sipped tropical cocktails, rode a few water slides, read our beach reads, and soaked in the sunshine for the entire day.

Feeling better already! Sun, sea, and sips.

I also made the shocking discovery that a man can also have a lower back tattoo, a.k.a. "tramp stamp." Prior to this sighting, I thought they were only for women.
Who knew? (Bringing you all the news you can use, folks).

We enjoyed a huge buffet dinner, with everything from shrimp cocktail to steak, and after that feast we made a walk through the resort's casino. We aren't really big gamblers, but one of the slot machines did happen to catch our eye:

What would Dolly do? Play the slots, apparently! 

That Dolly Parton slot machine was one of the most popular attractions in the entire casino! We actually had to wait in line to get a picture with it, but sadly, didn't take away any winnings. We found a band and a lively dance floor at a nearby lounge and spent the rest of our night people watching. Pro tip: people watching is one of our favorite hobbies, and there is no place better for it than Atlantis. It never disappoints.

Our weather on Saturday was not quite as cooperative; it was overcast and very breezy most of the day. Still, a bad day in the Bahamas is better than a good day at home. We headed back to our poolside lounge chairs for more rest and relaxation.

Day two of our long weekend, and headed back to the pool at the Royal Towers.
It's a tough job, but....

Saturday was the day is snowed back home in Charlotte.
Hey, I also caught a chill out by the pool, so basically the same situation. Ha!

It was a little chilly at times, but we made the most of it, knowing it was our last day. That night for dinner, we tried a new-to-us restaurant that has been at the resort for years, an Italian spot called Casa d'Angelo. Between the homemade bruschetta and fresh pasta (and another round of lobster, because it's vacation), we decided that it would definitely not be our last visit.

We both enjoyed lobster linguine (our second lobster dinner in three days, but who's counting?)

We never met a tiki drink we didn't like.

We spent our last evening taking a leisurely walk around the marina eyeing all the super yachts, and then enjoyed a few cocktails and some more live music before heading to our room to watch TV in our pajamas (you can take us somewhere exciting, but we're still the same couch potatoes).

It was a short but much needed getaway, and I'm glad we could make it work. When the going gets tough, the tough head to the Bahamas!