Bleach and Peach

Some snapshots of our lives from today:

1. Today I planned on folding laundry that had been in the dryer over a day and to prevent wrinkles, I ran it again for about twenty minutes, only to later discover I washed, dried and redried one of my favorite black dresses (albeit a seven year old one—see the Iowa wedding blog post for a representation) which needed to go to the dry cleaners. The result: the unshrinkable lining was about 4 inches longer than the outer layer of the dress, which had lost its gauziness and felt vaguely like a rubber band. It went in the trash.

2. The white pants that I was going to take to Florida also wound up in the wash, in the dryer that dried twice. I discovered a yellow curry stain on the upper right thigh. Determined not to be defeated by heat’s effects on stains, I turned to bleach, reaching it on the top of my stackable washer/dryer with the help of my desk chair. I opened the top, had a vague memory of using a Q-Tip to apply bleach to whatever the last stain was that crossed my white clothing’s path, but I bypassed that brief flash and gently poured the bleach onto the stain. And the dress I was currently wearing. Oops.

3. At the airport in Baltimore, I pulled out peaches I’d wrapped in a plastic bag for our breakfast only to find that they were smushed. The following conversation took place:

D: Oh no, I smushed our breakfast!
E: Don’t worry about it. It’s just our peaches, and we have protein bars, so we’re fine.
D: I know, but I feel like the peaches didn’t fulfill their purpose in life because they weren’t eaten, and we’re not getting nutrition from the peaches, so we’re going to wind up being really unhealthy and then we’re going to die.
E: Oh dear! That’s a lot of stress to carry all about six peaches (hug). But look, it’s not you’re fault.
D: Yes it is.
E: No it’s not. There was nothing on top of the peaches in your bookbag except the box of Annie’s white cheddar bunnies [picture Goldfish gone organic].
D: Yes there was. There were two books, and then I turned my book bag over on the floor on the plane and was using it for a footrest on the first flight.
E: Okay, well, you murdered the peaches.

4. We arrive in Orlando and need to rent a car. (Why is it that the actual price of a renting a car for the day is always three times less than what you wind up paying?) So we approach the Thrifty desk and the rate was 60 dollars a day. Too high. We go to Alamo. Same thing. We know it was only 45 online, so we go on the free internet (which we were familiar with from the last time we were stuck in the Orlando airport—must blog on that) and try to get the better rate. But the internet decided to be slow. Very slow. Called Matt, who we knew would be up at 11 o’clock. He wasn’t near his computer. Called Erica who lives in Seattle; she didn’t pick up. 45 minutes later, we gave up on Priceline and tried Expedia which loaded in about two seconds and we booked the car. I ate a lot of fair trade chocolate in the interim.

5. Do not drive in Florida. All roads lead to a toll and all tolls lead to another toll, and eventually you find yourself back at the very first toll with the nice Arab guy who sings to himself while calculating your change. Then the exit you need is closed down. Result: 20 minute drive takes an hour.

6. My GPS, Samantha, tells us to turn around at the Holy Land Theme Park. Eric announces that she brought us this way to receive much needed divine intervention.

7. I start to wonder whether it was a good idea to stay in this particularly hotel. Because our flight was coming in so late, we didn’t want to pay for the room at the Universal Hotel and got a 40 dollar room at a Hampton Inn about half an hour from the conference site. The next day, we were going to switch to the nicer hotel. Penny wise and pound foolish perhaps?

8. It’s nearly 1am. We try the self-toll booth. We found the country music station on Sirius. There seems to be no civilization in sight. The self-toll takes a credit card, but it doesn’t like any of ours. The car behind us honks and we look through our wallets for change:

E: I have 75 cents and a penny.
D: I have 25 cents.
E: Great!
[beep]
D: Oh no! Actually, I have 24 cents! I need your penny!
[beep]

9. We drive past a Chick-Fil-A. The last time we encountered a Chick-Fil-A was when we searched for one during the move from Wisconsin to Boston and our GPS took us off the parkway and onto a long and scenic tour of Indiana that ended with Karen (E’s Australian GPS personality) announcing to us, “You have reached your destination” in front of a cornfield. We decide to blame the Chick-Fil-A for our travel woes.

9. We arrive at our hotel and calculate it will be approximately $2.50 per person per hour for us to stay here. Practically free. We decide this is the best buy we’ve had yet in Florida, although we did drive around in circles on the tollways so much that we did get more miles per dollar than most folks do! And then it turns out: this is the best hotel EVER! It’s super quiet, has a mini-fridge, microwave, leather laptop desk, flat-screen television, chair with moveable footstool, super comfy bed, soft sheets and duvet cover, clean bathroom, free internet, free parking, free breakfast, pool, fitness area….all for 40 dollars a night! Oh, and best part: it doesn’t smell like Florida! Totally worth it! Now we’re wondering whether the Universal Hotel will be worth the splurge!

I’ll let you know. If Florida’s tolls and Samantha ever let us ever arrive, that is.