The Winner Beware

Usually when your friend tells you she’s going on vacation, you have a twinge of jealousy in your voice when you say, ”Have a fun trip!” Well no one should envy me. Without reading the fine print (mistake number one) I was selected from a “drawing” at my local Bennigan’s Restaurant for a trip to Williamsburg, VA. In my mind I think,”OK, safe enough to win something like this. It’s not a trip to Paris or Bahamas where things could get messy.” We had never been to this part of Virginia, so what the heck? Yes, it could have been a lot worse, but c’mon!

The representative on the phone said something about an Inn and something about a plantation. We win 2 gift cards to Bennigan’s. We get $150 gift card to spend there. All we have to do is secure $75.00 on a credit card and we’ll get that money back when we get there. So what’s the catch? We have to sit through a presentation of the wonders of timeshare ownership. We’d done something similar before and survived. All the details would be in the e-mail, no sweat.

Maybe you think I’m an idiot. I can’t help it. I have an insatiable need to travel. It’s free, we’d work out any kinks, right? Well…

So in the e-mail there is no mention of where we are staying. Just a map of the area with a big star at the Plantation House. I figure that’s where they want us to go. There is no phone number included in the e-mail, but I figure if I really wanted to get in touch with someone I could e-mail them. Things seemed self–explanatory…

 

So the stress starts with the dog. I found a kennel to take our dog Samantha. I could not submit my friend to all the trouble of dog watching this time. This kennel stuff was new to me, but was so proud when I handed the lady my rabies papers and kennel cough, bla bla bla. “Has she been treated for fleas?” she asks. Ugh, the one thing I forgot. She gets a little cranky, but agrees to keep her after a passing inspection. She comments on how spoiled she is and drags her away. Okay, now I’m wondering if all this should really happen. Reluctantly, I go home and finish packing. We leave around 12:00 in the afternoon and hope to make good time. Within 30 minutes, we encounter traffic and for the most part, it’s a slow go the rest of the way. Living in Southeastern PA, it takes about five hours to get down to Williamsburg. Eight hours later, we finally get into town and the map that was provided turned out to be very confusing. Tired and stressed, I enter a convenience store and a friendly employee tells me she'll help me in a minute. As I'm standing there a strung out man is staring at me. I smile politely and he walks behind me.

After a minute, he whispers, "I'm so nervous." So I bite. "Why?" I ask. "'Cause that cop is outside, and I'm so @&#*  up right now."

"Well, you should be nervous. Why don't you get some coffee." I teasingly say. At that, the nice lady begins to help me and I quickly exit. I start to wonder, does that happen a lot in Virginia?

After receiving wrong directions we finally arrive at the Plantation House. The snooty receptionist tells my husband he was not to come there, but go to the Patriot Inn where we are supposed to be staying. When we get there, there are no rooms. The lady informs us we will have to have a room where we just came from and gives us a room number there. Back at the Plantation House the snooty girl says she’ll check if they have any available and takes her time. Announcing they did have something, she gives us the keys to the same room we told her we were assigned.

The room was very nice so no problems there. We woke early the next day to meet our "guide" who would take us on a tour of Williamsburg and then back to the office to make us feel like lowlifes for wasting his time. Colonial Williamsburg, from the car, looked like a nice place to spend time if your kids are older and might actually care you're spending money to look at old crap. I did learn in the 1930s John Rockefeller stumbled upon Williamsburg, which had become abandoned and overgrown. Because of him, it's the money hungry tourist attraction it is today.

 

Well, the fun began when we went back to the office and our guide Wes started out nice, and by the end became a monster. He started twisting what we were saying to prove his point on how we would benefit from wonders of a timeshare. He got backup and we still wouldn't budge. Then, when we thought we could finally get our day started at 2:00 he tells us to exit through a certain door to receive our "prizes" and we get hit with one more person chaining us to our chair and reselling it all over again. Remember what we were "promised"? The only things we got were a $75.00 giftcard with our $75.00 deposit put on it. (That's the $150 I mentioned earlier--interesting how they word things.) We were only to get 1 Bennigan's $25.00 gift card but since they didn't have any they added that amount to the card. I am not ungrateful, I just like to get what I'm promised. When I mentioned this to Wes, he pretty much said to shut up and be happy with what I got. We got out as soon as we could to recover and get on with our lives.

The only plus to the trip was the city of Hampton, about 20 minutes from Williamsburg. The beautiful town on the Chesapeake Bay is also the home of the Virginia Air and Space Museum. It's the home of the Apollo 12 Command Module and and a DC-9 passenger jet you can go into. We had a great time. Then to dinner on the patio of a nice hotel by the water. The crab quesidillas were so good.

We left early the next day to encounter more miles of traffic on the way home. We survived (gameboys helped) and our dog Samantha survived too.  We discovered how creative the people of Virginia are with their license plates.  We had a lot of fun reading them on the way home. But the important thing is, I learned a valuable lesson: I like being home. I don't need to travel to have a good time. Whether it's long delays at an airport or never ending traffic woes, it's not worth taking multiple vacations for us. I'll take playing Candy Land at home any day.

The Mom Song

For the tech savvy, you've probably already seen this YouTube video. For me, I had to hear about it on Oprah.com. The comedian Anita Renfroe made a song about things moms say to their kids to the tune of the William Tell Overture. It's worth the time to check it out and have a laugh.

Hi I'm Karen and I have dyscalculia

Just by chance, I stumbled upon a name for a problem I have suffered with since third grade.  Picture how an illiterate person can squeak by their entire lives not knowing how to read.  Well, I have done that in everything that involves numbers.  Because I was a good quiet kid, I think my math teachers passed me out of pity.  It's not like I didn't try.  I spent more than enough hours with different tutors.  I would kind of understand what they were showing me, but by the time the test came around I never got higher than a D.  This continued in college where I failed the basic math course--twice.  You begin to develop a phobia when you confront numbers.  There are many levels or symptoms of dyscalculia. These are the ones I have:

Reliance on 'counting-on' strategies, e.g., using fingers, rather than any more efficient mental arithmetic strategies.

Difficulty with everyday tasks like checking change.

Inability to comprehend financial planning or budgeting, sometimes even at a basic level; for example, estimating the cost of the items in a shopping basket or balancing a checkbook.

Difficulty with mental arithmetic.

Difficulty with conceptualizing time and judging the passing of time.

Problems differentiating between left and right.

Having difficulty mentally estimating the measurement of an object or distance (e.g., whether something is 10 or 20 feet away).

Inability to grasp and remember mathematical concepts, rules, formulae, and sequences.

I have read that people who suffer with this, happen to excel in English and science (well I'm the former not the latter).  Even going so far as to say some excel creatively, like in poetry.  I think back to a day in seventh grade that I earned some respect from my class by reciting a serious poem I had written.  Everyone thought I copied it from a book.  Or my favorite English teacher's recommendation for my college application.  He wrote, "She has already read books and poetry that most high school students would not attempt." 

It's a great comfort to know that I'm not a complete idiot, and there is a reason for this gap in intelligence.  If I had to choose between being a whiz in math or English, I'd rather pick English anyway.  You can't snuggle up with a good book about the pythagorean theorem--that is, unless you're my husband :)

To learn more, please visit: www.dyscalculia.org

Living with a young Louisa May Alcott

I've been on a Little Women kick.  I recently downloaded Little Women: the Musical and was impressed with how the lyrics captured the soul of the book.  I cried when I heard "Some Things Are Meant to Be," a duet between Jo and Beth, before Beth dies.  It touched me to see the love siblings can have for eachother.  Last night I watched the movie made in 1994, and couldn't help but long for sisters like that.  It's true I have two of my very own, but we have never been close.  They are quite set in their ways, which doesn't allow for the closeness I crave. 

Yet, snuggling next to me during the movie is my daughter.  She is the closest "sister" I think I'll ever have.  She reminds me of those sisters in so many ways.  The character of Jo, who Louisa based herself on, I think comes the closest.  It's not her stubborness or her giving, caring nature that stands out the most as similiarites.  It's her need to create outlandish stories and direct and star in them.  I should have seen it coming.  At three, playing barbies became dramatic.  I would be Ken, she would be Barbie.  They would dance and eat dinner.  When all of a sudden, the "other woman"  would enter the story and upsurp all of Barbie's happiness.  Where did she get this idea?  Was she sneaking in episodes of General Hospital when I wasn't looking? 

Then she started directing.  She would give me my line from a story she just created, and told me how I should say it.  She would make me do my line over if it wasn't to her caliber.  She's become the toughest director I've ever worked for.  The stories started out simple.  I was the prince, she was Cinderella.  We've moved on to becoming ninjas in the jungle.  She had her "sword" and could not find one suitable for me.  She took mints out of my purse and told me to give the fiends this bad candy instead. 

One day if she ever decides to write a story based on our family, I can only hope we live up to the high standards the Alcott family set in encouraging intelligence and creativity and unfailing love for family. 

World's worst polluted cities

You may not have known this, but one of my lesser known passions is enviornmentalism...long before it was cool.  In highschool, I researched becoming an enviornmental engineer until I discovered I would need to do math problems.  I thought it in the best interest of that profession to not pursue it any futher.  So, I recycle and turn off the light when I leave the room, etc.  We know global warming is a problem but this MSNBC article just breaks everything down about how people are affected by their enviornment, specifically children.  Please check out the slide show as well. 

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20745214

In viewing it, I can't help but look forward to a time when the earth will not be so plagued by these horrible problems caused by greed and ignorance.