So yesterday I had a chat with a naked lady....

After spending 23 years in Bahrain I've come to expect women to be more clothed than "normal"...as in seeing arms or legs was very rare there in the early days...now things are more relaxed and the expat community are fairly free to wear what they want...within reason. Besides the amount of skin covered up in the public sphere...the amount we see in the private (home, friends house etc) is generally almost the same as in the street. Your not likely to catch more than the usually accepted amount of skin even when inside and away from the prying eyes of the public (men).

I got used to that and funny enough when I came back to the states I was immediately blown away with what passes for being dressed while out in public these days. I've seen some women who apparently didnt finish getting dressed before leaving home...maybe they had an emergency...at Walmart...and thus left most of it laying on the bed. Or something (men too but generally it's the women whose state of undress is their fashion). As with all things...you get used to it.

Yesterday in college I entered the girl's changing room for the first time in the 3 semesters I've been attending this college. The dressing and shower rooms are split in two with the shower area having a small dressing area as well. I was chatting to my fellow class student when around the corner came one of the college instructors stark naked...coming from the shower area...not so much as a wet rag to hide the strategic bits.

Now I'm not a prude or anything...Ive seen naked before...but here is my beef with this. I grant you that it is a shower/changing room set up. I grant you that your likely to see some nudity etc...people are in a hurry and shit happens. What I dont get it...for those who choose to walk around stark naked...why do you assume the rest of us are ok with seeing you in such a state?

In other words, your "right" to be naked supercedes our right not to see you naked? I dont mind seeing women naked (or men for that matter)...the human body is amazing in its many forms...what I do mind is when someone takes away my right to choose whom I see naked. The girl's locker room was set up in such a way that she (or anyone) could easily dress in the same area they showered in. In other words, there was no need for her to parade around naked...so why force the rest of us to see her that way?

Now I know someone will get on here and say...well you dont have to go in the shower rooms if your afraid or upset to see someone completely naked. Your right...I dont have too...but what has that got to do with anything? Even inside the shower room why cant a certain amount of modesty be expected? Just because we are all women does that mean all the women in there are quite fine with complete nudity...just because you love being naked does that mean everyone around you loves for you to be naked too?

Anyhow, it irritated me...maybe Im oldschool....but I feel like I should be able to choose whom I see naked...and unless you are fully aware that everyone around you is fine with seeing your saggy bits and untrimmed glory...then maybe you should grab a towel and keep your goods to yourself?

Just a thought.

To dream a little a dream....

As the last page slips into the tray she gathers the pile up, straightens them up, and lays them down on her desk. She sits awhile just looking at them and not thinking a whole lot about anything much. For the moment the "what if" game is being silent and her thoughts are wispy things that have no substance.

She reaches over and takes the single white envelope from the edge of the desk and writes an address on it and then her own. She picks up the papers and starts to slide them inside...but hesitates. After a moment she sits back with the papers and once again begins to read what she has written...though she has read it many times already. It has been a long time in coming....making the journey from the darkest recesses of her mind to the white pristine papers in her printer.

As each word of each line skims across her vision her mind instantly plays out the scenes of her life; the good, the not so good, and the ones she wishes she could forget, but of course, that will never happen. Some things are with you forever.

She reaches the end and once again straightens the pages into an orderly pile....and slips them into the waiting envelope. Along with the papers she inserts her hopes and dreams that within these pages her future lies. That the events of her life will finally have meaning because to believe it had none is more than she can bear.

She lays the envelope down while she dresses but can't help looking over now and then...and realizes the power that is contained within those pages. The power to change her life...the thought frightens her nearly as much as it sparks a bright light of hope within her heart.

She slips on her jacket and collects her keys then walks over and stands in front of her desk looking down. The sudden urge to just chuck the whole thing in the garbage can at her feet is so strong she realizes her hand is already reaching out to do just that before she can stop it...she snatches it back and takes a deep breath. A small pep talk was in order...and she gives it and listens patiently to it before grabbing the envelope quickly and heads for the door.

As she sits in her car she tosses it carelessly into the passenger seat...almost as an after thought. If she dwells too long on its importance she feels she will lose herself in the enormity of what she is about to do...and of course back out while she still can. Backing out is NOT an option...just start the car and get moving.

Traffic is sufficient to require concentration but she still manages to steal a glance or two at the seat next to her. The closer she gets to her destination the harder her heart pounds until eventually she can hear neither the sounds of traffic nor the negative voice in her head that has been her constant companion these long lonely years.

She pulls up into the parking lot and snatches it up and quickly enters the building as if the hounds of hell are on her heels. She can't help but glance over her shoulder...just to make sure it IS just her imagination.

She arrives at the counter and thrusts the envelope that contains her life at the surprised employee. Almost instantly she starts to grab it back as if discovering her child in the arms of a stranger. She catches herself and steps back from the counter and plasters a smile on her face to put the cautious employee at ease...or so she hopes.

Uhm....can I help you, he asks.

Yes...I would like to send that by registered mail...she answers quickly. She is pretty sure she sounds normal...at least to her ears...though they are full of the sound of her beating heart.

Ok...fill out this paperwork and that will be $6.80...and it should be there by Thursday, he says as he places a sticker on her life and sets it behind him on the outgoing mail shelf. She looks at it sitting there and can't help but imagine the little adventure it is about to embark on. Once again the analogy of a child comes to mind...her child is venturing out into the world and she won't be there to keep it safe. Her heart not only pounds but squeezes too with pain and trepidation.

She quickly looks away before the tears that threaten start to fall. You would think she had just laid baby Moses in a basket preparing to push him off into the unknown waters the way she felt.

She fills out the paper work and pays the fee then turns to walk away. She can't help but look one more time at her hope for the future lying there so innocently on the shelf. Such power in that envelope...she is amazed there isn't some sign, almost biblical in nature, that would indicate the essence of what those pages contain.

She gets back in her car and starts the engine. Buckles her seat belt then turns the radio on. Checks her mirrors before pulling out and heads for home...and it is only then that she allows herself to dream a little dream.

And the waiting begins....

Where's a cop when you CALL one?

Working in this store has given me the opportunity to meet and get to know quite a variety of different people. Some are familiar favorites that I look forward to seeing each night and wonder where they are when I don't. Others are those that drop in once a week and spend a few minutes catching up. All in all MOST of the people that come through the store are regulars for the most part...with the few exceptions...those that are travelling through and stopping to freshen and gas up...and those that have come to specifically to rob the store.

Last night 3 such people showed up at the store while I was there alone.

In life we are all afraid of something. If it be heights, sharks, spiders, or elevators..whatever it is we are affected the same way. Fear takes over and coherent thoughts vanish. Somethings you don't even know your afraid until your faced with it. Last night I was faced with the very real fear that my children could be left orphans...without even one parent to care for them and love them and be there for them. Last night I was forced to face the fact that Tomorrow Is Promised To No One.

In the 6 months Ive been working in this store Ive had to deal with a few customers that got my radar going and heartbeat skipping just a little more than usual. Not for anything he did specifically to ME, just the way he (so far its always been a he) acted while moving about the store etc. Up until last night all those fears were groundless and the shift continued without incident. Last night fleeting thoughts of whether or not I was going to be able to finish my shift and go home to my kids skittered through my mind as I faced these 3 men who had come to impact my life in ways they apparently could careless about. During that 20 min they were in the store...my heart thundered so hard in my chest I felt it would actually burst out of it...my throat closed up so that I was unable to swallow..if there had been any spit to swallow...and my mind was a blur of thoughts skating across the surface of my fear like lightening bugs...quick and hot.

I don't want to go into too much detail about what went on simply because it still freaks me out to think about it...suffice to say...I don't wish to repeat the experience under any circumstances. When I finally got the chance to call the police I felt help was close at hand and that helped calm me down and let me focus on what I was telling the dispatcher...details of them and the car etc...so when they ran out the door the relief I felt very nearly caused me to collapse. I guess that was when I let out the breath I had been seemingly holding forever.

NOW, imagine my surprise and eventual anger at the fact that the cops NEVER showed up. Nope. Spent the rest of the shift looking over my shoulder, expecting the worst and waiting anxiously for the cops to show up. Never happened.

Serve and Protect my ass.

IF that wasn't the bad enough people...check this out. THOSE SAME 3 MEN CAME BACK TO THE STORE TONIGHT TO ROB IT AGAIN!!!

I know right. How lucky am I??? *sigh*

This time I didn't waste time calling the police. This time they actually came. This time the men were caught down the street and arrested. This time my heart took less time to slow down and anger took its place.

The simple fact people is that I could have died last night. Cops didn't come so I could have lain on the floor until some customer came or the morning shift showed up. I could have lain there while my kids waited for me at home wondering where I was. I could have...but I didn't.

Tonight had a better outcome by far but I still felt fear....and for that I'm so damn pissed off I cant even think straight. I'm so sick to death of people coming into my life intent on hurting me in some way. Some of those people were supposed to love me..some of those people hated me...and now some of those people don't even know me and couldn't care less how they affected my life at all but were quite happy to do so anyways.

I'm so angry. I feel so helpless. I want to hurt something back. I want to scream and cry and break things into lots of pieces. I want to rage at everything...and nothing.

I'm so angry. On top of the anger Ive been living with this past few years..this could be my undoing people. When does the shit end for gods sake? Is is possible to live your life as well as you can, doing the best you can, without a man (or 3) coming along to fuck you up in some way?

Is it?

When is Freedom of Speech a Crime?

I was called up to my daughter's school today as she was in tears and wanting to "leave right now, MOM!!!". As a teenager she is frequently caught up in the middle of some teenage drama but she usually handles it pretty well and life goes on. I don't get these "come take me home now" phone calls very often...so when I do..I know something serious has happened.

When I walked into the counsellor's office the secretary seen me and her usual smile was not in place. She had a very serious look and threw me a sympathetic smile of sorts. I felt this signalled a little something more serious was going on and prepared myself for "the worst". The counsellor heard my voice asking for Ameena and came out of his office with an equally serious expression. NOW I really was worried as he ALWAYS had a welcoming smile for me.

He invited me into his office and Ameena was sitting there obviously distressed and with red burned areas under her eyes signalling she had been doing some serious crying. I was not terribly surprised when I found out the cause of all this drama.

In every high school in the world there are cliques, gangs, and the occasional loners. There are the cheerleaders, the jocks, the nerds and the rebels. There are the whites, then everyone else consisting of those considered "lower in status". What I mean to say is we either belong to a group by choice or we are labeled into that group by our "peers". And always ALWAYS there is the "low man on the totem pole" group. Those considered the lowest in class, status, race...whatever. They are generally the most persecuted group in which every school bully bullies them, every cheerleader princess ignores them, and every other student thanks God they aren't them.

And then you have the new and novel group of which my son and daughter are the only two that belong to it...they are the Terrorist of Rock Springs High School.

Apparently my children have been assigned the role of resident terrorists by their peers and the harassment and bullying has been an almost daily thing. They have mentioned to me in the past that some students will shout out terrorist at them but they handled it by giving back as good as they got for the most part. My daughter has never been one to let such a comment slide by without retaliation. She told me she could handle it...I didn't need to come down there and deal with it myself....which I what I wanted to do the moment I heard about it. Zack keeps more to himself and doesn't really let himself react to such things for the most part...but when he's had enough...they will definitely know it.

Up until now Ameena seemed to be handling it well by ignoring it for the most part but today things got out of hand and she just couldn't take it anymore. It would seem several students started harassing her and calling her terrorist and others were laughing...the hardest part for her to handle was the fact that some of the students laughing were supposed to be her friends. She has faced the backs of many a friend and family member who was supposed to care about her but showed their true colors when they were needed the most...so she took this very hard and was overwhelmed with disappointment and hurt. She fled to the counsellor's office and I was called in.

I arrived not knowing what was going on but I quickly felt deep anger for my children who have suffered harassment all their lives for some reason or another. In Bahrain they were harassed for having an American mother (aka slutty whore). They were made to feel inferior for being a "mixed breed" Arab rather than a "pure blood" that many Arabs are so proud of. My girls, of course, were eventually harassed for having been subjected to rape by their father...and the boys for having slutty sisters etc. Not only was their Arab status criticized but so was their level of "Muslimness" simply because their mother was American and obviously corrupting Islam for them. We move to the states and now they are "terrorists" merely for being Arab. I can almost feel the pain my children must feel at the thought that they don't belong anywhere...they are always labeled different.

My question to you all here is...should calling someone a terrorist be considered a crime of some sort? I ask this simply because given the very fearful nature the word instills in people, to me it's akin to shouting "fire" in a crowded building. It automatically makes people jumpy and suspicious...and maybe even dangerous. that whole vigilante justice thing that a mob tends to decide is the right course of action is very much on my mind now. My daughter was surrounded by chanting students who could have whipped themselves up into a frenzy of sorts if enough of them had gathered and joined it...which apparently was happening before she ran to the councillor's office. We all are very well aware of what happens when a mob like mentality takes over and an individual is singled out as deserving of "justice". I might also point out that this is Wyoming and "cowboy justice" is still considered an option. She was afraid and had every right to be...but was freedom of speech on the side of the students in this case or are these considered racists or hate words and therefor a crime of sorts?

I'm very happy with the counsellors course of action in that he quickly denounced every student that took part in that little gang up and informed all the faculty and school administration staff that any student uttering that word in the future would be suspended and the police would be called to the school. I'm assuming that makes calling someone a terrorist a crime then if the police can be called...I'm not sure though. In my anger I didn't ask for specifics.

This evening Ameena is much better, kids bounce back pretty quick usually, but it's very much on my mind now. I didn't bring my kids home finally just to be faced with potential danger because of who they are or where they come from. I do know and believe with all my heart that America is a better place for them and with more opportunities but I also have to acknowledge that it also could prove dangerous for them because there are haters everywhere...and haters need something to focus their hate on. Hate often leads to violence unfortunately....I don't know what I would do if my children were harmed in anyway because I brought them here under the assumption it was better for them.

I feel the school handled this situation as well as they could but they can't be everywhere all the time...my children will have to face these bullies again at some point for sure as bullies never go away..they just wait until no ones looking. I was assured the school has cameras everywhere but still....I hate this situation and that my children have to be part of it. And of course, that's my fault for bringing them to an intolerant city, state, country??? Which is it? Is there anywhere in America that half Arab children can live in relative peace? hmmmm?

I don't like where this is going...any suggestions for a course of action, people?

When Did Americans Get So Lazy?

So...been 2 weeks at work now and I cant help notice how many people come into the store wearing sleep pants...or pj's. Granted they could basically be considered an appropriate form of attire to go for a quick run to the shop etc...but seriously...we all KNOW they are for sleeping...and thus are just and indicator of how lazy you were in not changing out of them before heading out the door.

Last night an entire family came in with not only sleep pants...but full pj's...tops and bottoms....with house slippers as well. Mom and dad were in tshirts and sport team sleep pants...3 little kids were in assorted sleep wear with bunny slippers, tigger slippers and what looked like bear claw (?) slippers. It was ONLY 8 pm and its not like they were making an emergency run to get some milk for breakfast or something(and the WHOLE family wouldn't need to do that anyhow...right?)...so whats up with that?


When did Americans start wearing their sleeping clothes for errands...and does anyone else find that a little strange...or is that just me and something I need to get use too?

Can anyone guess what our 3rd top seller is?

Ive only been working at this store for a week now but thats given me plenty of time to view the spending habits of Americas average consumer...at least for this store. Ive noticed in that time that...other than coming in to pay for the gas...there are 3 top ten items that are almost ALWAYS bought when someone comes in...can anyone guess what the top 3rd item is...alcohol and cigarettes are the top 2 (other than gas)...whats number 3? I will wait to give you time to make some guesses...then edit this post with the answer and more ranting..I mean editorial...lol. Have fun!!


So...there you have. Energy drinks are apparently all the rage now. Ive served everyone from young kids to the elderly buying a myriad assortment of expensive and very large containers of caffeine in a can.


Which makes me wonder...why are "we" so darn tired that we now find we need a pick me up of such monstrous proportions? Little kids are buying them at night...shouldn't they be in bed asleep? The elderly are buying them mostly in the mornings...are they finding it hard to stay awake during the days? Long haul drivers are buying them in 6 packs..which is scary all by itself...you have to sleep sometime people...those jack knifed rigs on the highways aren't purely accidental if you haven't slept in 3 days and flying high on Redbull or something.


I would assume that our high tech world is keeping us awake when we ordinarily would b sleeping. Surfing the net, playing PS3, texting and chatting and and and...in order to stay awake for our entertainment beyond our bodies intended capacity...we need our "fix"...and here's the solution. Energy Drinks.


In my opinion...they shouldn't be sold to children just like alcohol and cigarettes...I drank one small energy drink several years ago...could NOT literally close my eyes for 3 days. I was a zombie on auto mode. Never again. I don't know how these regular drinkers do it. It obviously CANNOT be good for you in such large doses...nearly everyday.


One solution...people need to get their required sleep and turn off whatever the heck it is keeping them awake...and a age limit needs to be put on them...they should be considered harmful in my opinion.

Thanks for all the guesses...no lottery here...condoms are in the bathrooms...haven't seen any porn mags under the counter or anything but I will give it a closer check just to make sure....purely for research purposes....lol.

Starting Fresh Stinks...lol!!!

*I apologize for no pics...but apparently the camera AND phone wires were left behind in boxes...read on...also spell check is not working so bear with any misspelled words please.



Ive been meaning to get this post up for a week...but Ive been so freakin busy its not even funny. I also considered giving you all a detailed over view of that past 2 weeks but figured that would be a down right mini series...so decided to spare you that trauma of anticipation for each new installment. Sooooo came to the painful conclusion that I would just give you more of a bullet type update...anyone with questions can leave them in the comments. Be nice.


So here goes...


1. Right up until the VERY moment we boarded the plane I was having one headache after another just preparing to leave Bahrain. Everything from missing passports...delayed visa...making new passports...stolen money and wallet with all my ID....aaaaaand the million and one other things moving from one country to another entails. I wasnt sleeping at all for the week leading up to our departure...and jet lag is still kicking my backside...so Im still trying to catch up a week later.


2. I had a dozen people calling me offering plane tickets....money...help with the bills etc...a dozen people if not MORE...they ALL CALLED ME due to the article in the newspaper I mentioned before....they all called me....ONCE... with heartfelt promises and BIG PLANS...and then never called me back. NOT ONE OF THEM. Like I have mentioned countless times before...why even bother to call or offer such things if you have NO intention of following through? Whatever.


3. One person from the blogs did email me and promised that she would make sure all the tickets were paid for (she found some people to donate them)....and she did. I am truly indebted to this lady because once some of the money was stolen I did not have enough for the tickets...but wasnt about to get on here and say that after the amazing turnout of people who donated. I sincerely apologize to those that donated for losing (had stolen) a portion of the money donated...I lost all my ID as well. Try getting passports, traveling...and starting a fresh life with NO ID (well eventually got my passport...barely hours before I traveled) and discover just how hard that can be. I dont recommend it.


4. At the airport I discovered I had too much luggage and had to open everything we had right there on the floor and rearrange contents trying to get some of them legal weight wise...had to leave two boxes behind. (have since discovered those boxes had some very needful things in them...of course) It was a mad rush of sorting and screaming and trying to organize in a hurry as the delay meant we were late getting to the gate. I was absolutely drenched in sweat and near to having a breakdown due to the 2 weeks build up of high stress over the stolen money, ID etc plus other delays...plus now the luggage drama. By the time I sat down at last on the plane and could actually take a very long exhale...I was pretty close to exhaustion. It was the hardest most stressful 2 weeks I have had since pre divorce...and thats saying something. (boxes were taken back with my friend who has promised to send them to me...Im waiting girl)


5. Oh yes...I need to mention that upon arrival at Bahrain airport I discovered one of my childrens passports had a page torn right down the middle...which page might you ask...the picture and ID page of course. Prior to heading to the airport I had stopped to make photocopies to leave with my friend....apparently the Filipino girl that did the copies tore the page (I assume by accident...but she did seem in a hurry to get us out the door) and I didnt notice til I handed it to airport reservation...who took one look and declared it illegal to travel on...ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!! Eventually much heated discussion followed in which numerous "higher ups" were called upon to make a higher up decision...and it was accepted but I was warned I would have a headache, no doubt, while traveling...now THERES an understatement. Every single passport check delayed us again and again while ALL of our passports were scrutinized due to that one having the tear. In Paris we barely made it to the next flight due to the delay. In Dallas the man just stared at me and asked..."did you do this...why did you do this...you know its not allowed to do this"....ok...gotcha...just stamp it and get on with it will ya? In Salt Lake the lady said...."how in the heck did they let you travel with this?" I have no idea but Im certainly glad they did and now that Im here I dont really care anymore...JUST LET ME THROUGH ALREADY!!!



6. The trip itself was sooooooooo loooooooooooooong. My lord was I tired of sitting and sitting and sitting...and did I mention how much I sat for heavens sake? At least we were pleasantly surprised to discover the first leg of the trip was in business class...so we could stretch out and enjoy our leg room...warm cloth...and REAL utensils with our meals. However, this set us up for the devastating realization that the next 2 flights would be in the Sardine Section. Im NOT complaining as I was extremely HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY to be on the plane at all...but for us bigger than average people (read:fat) its harder to be in the Sardine section when your a fat sardine...*sigh*. (need to work more on that...been going to the gym you know). By the time we reached Salt Lake my feet were the size of cantalopes...I dared not remove my shoes for fear of a minor explosion of flesh hitting innocent bystanders.


7. When we FINALLY arrived some 3 months later in Dallas (11 hours but whose counting), I might add...while standing in line at customs and my kids are looking around getting their first REAL look at America (the boys at least) (and you cant get anymore American than Texas) what should be their first EXPERIENCE in America be but a flat out rude f**k of a man who shocked them and left them with open jaws and round eyes. A guy was standing in front of me in the looooooong customs line that all the Americans stand in...the line drew ahead and he just continued to stand there. Made no attempt to bridge the gap...and the gap was at least 7 or 8 people wide by this time. Im very tired...very irritated...very thirsty...and very tired..did I mention that? So I did what just about any other person would have done...I made moves to move ahead in hopes that he would catch on and move ahead too. He quickly turned and looked at me and with a completely benign look on his face spewed out the most foul language I have heard in quite some time. "F" this and "F" that about how I dared cut in front of him and who did I think I was and how he F***ing hated people who thought they were better than you and cut in front of you in line...and how he had JUST ABOUT HAD IT WITH RUDE PEOPLE. I see. After I got over my initial shock I calmly asked him if he was having a bad day. Willing to give him some small excuse because I wasnt IN America officially until I was past customs....and I still had a torn passport to deal with...no need to cause heads to lift and focus on me anymore than they had already...right? So I was calm. I was good. I swallowed his sh*t just to get through customs. He said he was having a "very good f**king day and would continue to do so if people LIKE ME didnt come and try and ruin it". I see. My kids were in shock as I said and I was trying to figure out if the guy was actually going to have a mental breakdown and go all kung foo on me or something. He looked spring loaded and ready to act that was for sure. I decided to remain silent....but not in my head. Anyhow...he moved forward so I took a step forward as well. He then turns his head and dared me to touch his luggage or "see what he would do to me". Wheres a frickin police officer when you need one? I calmly (still calm) told him I wouldnt touch his luggage if my life depended on it. (and maybe it did?) When we passed a security man I pointed out the sh*t and told security dude that he was insane and rude and they should scrutinize him a little better than most. Security dude just laughed and pointed me to a line.


Welcome to America kids *sigh*


7. I did manage to get some exercise in at Dallas airport after all that sitting. For those that havent been there...there is a tram system set up that takes you from one terminal to another. It goes all around the airport. We found the tram after getting off the Paris flight...went to the proper terminal for getting to Salt Lake and sat down with a sigh. I then realized I had all the Bahraini money to change...not having had a chance to do so in Bahrain due to the luggage fiasco delaying us...and in Paris due to the passport fiasco delaying us...and I wasnt sure if Salt Lake airport would change Bahraini money or not. I wasnt sure if it was considered an international airport...so I went looking for a money exchange. Turns out that terminal did not have any...I had to return to the terminal I was just at. So I told the kids to sit and relax and dont leave the carry ons etc while I got back on the tram and went back to the other terminal. Once I located the money exchanger and he spent eons of time figuring out the rate for dinars and carefully calculating at least 10 times...he then asked for my ID. Did I mention I didnt have any? Thought so. I had not brought my passport either...ugh. Soooooooooooooo I had to scamper ALL THE FREAKING way back to the tram and to the other terminal...grab the passport with a quick word to the kids...and rush like mad back to the other terminal..change the money and get back on the tram to my departure terminal in which they were by now calling for all boarders. I didnt even have a chance to relax and enjoy browsing the airport (same thing in Paris...argh!!!) I sat down with an exhausted crash and held a silent pity party for one.


8. So we FINALLY reach Salt Lake...the last leg of our trip...but is it? No it isnt. We still have a 3 hour plus drive ahead of us to Wyo. It was lovely seeing my long time friend there to greet us...hugs all around...meet the family...wait ages for luggage....of course it was ABSOLUTELY LAST coming out of the little box thing....and off to the car we went. Arrived "home" at 2 am with my two kids and her two kids screaming like mad in the street having been waiting for 2 hours for our arrival. My sonny boy was first in the car into my lap and arms around my neck before the door was even fully open. I hadnt seen him in 9 months...he is nearly 12 now but he wasnt ashamed to cry with happiness at seeing his mom again. My kids were estatic to see each other and be all together once again (didnt last long til the first argument over who slept where was had but hey...it sounded wonderful anyhow). We all crashed out where ever we could find a spot(my sonny boy was right next to me..almost on top of me)...and it was lights out until the next day was half gone.

7 hours to Paris (give or take)
11 hours to Dallas (give or take)
3 hours to Salt Lake (exactly)
3 hours plus to Wyo
----------equals
4 very very VERY tired travelers


*to be continued. Life after landing.