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Posts Tagged ‘Travel’

Dear Annoying People in and Traveling to/from New York City:

Perhaps you are unaware that you live in a world with other people. You do not operate within a movable cone of silence. Here are some tips (prescriptive and restrictive) for existing in harmony with others:

On an airplane

  • Put your smartphone game on mute, especially if you are going to play it for the entire two-hour flight.
  • Do not speak loudly in Portuguese with your friend to combat the loud English-speakers seated in front of you.
  • Never hum throughout the flight.
  • Please be aware of how much room you take up when wearing a backpack. Be careful when turning as your backpack might hit (repeatedly) the person in the seat next to you.

In an airport bathroom

  • Step out of the way to have a conversation to allow others to use the sink and hand dryer.
  • The bathroom stall is not the place to hold a conversation on your cell phone, especially when there is a line of people waiting.
  • Wash your hands, for Pete’s sake. Clean hands save lives!

In public places

  • Allow at least a foot of clearance between yourself and the person standing in front of you.
  • Do not “tsk,” sigh loudly, rifle through your handbag, talk with your friend, or otherwise disturb others during a tense documentary. The movie theater is not your living room.
  • It is OK to remove your leather jacket at a concert if you get hot. There is no need to sweat inside it, causing a cloud of body odor to emanate from you.
  • If you leave your spot in front of the stage at a concert, you forfeit rights to that spot. You can’t keep coming out and going back into the crowd. It is never OK to push people out of the way.
  • Do not breathe forcefully on the arm of the person next to you at a concert.

In the nail salon

  • Treat your customers kindly. Nail polish should not take hours to dry. If a customer complains about a problem with the manicure that resulted from many layers of polish not drying quickly, do not say to her, “You not careful.”
  • Toes are attached to feet. Do not try to wrench them off customers during a pedicure.

Thank you for your consideration,
Beth

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Pip pip to the Brits

Dear People of Oxford, England:

Thank you for your hospitality when I visited last week for a conference. At no time did I feel that you thought less of me because I am an American. (Although perhaps I, like many Americans, was just oblivious.)

Thank you for not mocking me when I tipped, or took an inordinately long time trying to decipher the wording on the coins.

I know you could tell I am American because I smiled all the time and was extra friendly. I hope my American accent didn’t sound too much like a bird squawking. Or like this.

Americans are like dogs to England’s cats. We have big personalities and can be overwhelming. We’re always wanting attention, calling attention to ourselves, trying to engage people somehow. Running around with chew toys and slinging slobber. That sort of thing.

In contrast, you English folks are more reserved, aloof even. You might play with the metaphorical cat toy, but only if it suits you, and certainly not when anyone is watching.

But you were kind to me, and for that I am appreciative.

You really are jolly good chaps.

Cheerio, and I hope to see you again soon.
Beth

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Dear Louis Miller,

Congratulations on opening the new international terminal at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. As general manager, you must be very proud.

I’m sure it took the involvement and commitment of many people to make the new terminal a reality.

May I recommend adding one more person to that team? Perhaps a proofreader?

Photo courtesy of Steve Barnes

I mean, Atlanta and the airlines sunk $1.4 billion into the four-year project. Surely, everyone could have spent just a little more money and time making sure to spell “transportation” correctly. Really, it’s not spelled the way many Atlantans pronounce it. I promise.

The South already battles the reputation that it is the Land of IdiotsRecent behavior doesn’t help. Please don’t add fuel to this fire. Please fix the sign.

Congratulations again on the fine achievement, and I look forward to using the new terminal.

Sincerely,
Beth

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Dear Dad,

I hope you and Katherine are doing well. Eddie and I are fine, except we are going to have to move. Now that President Obama is “leading a war on traditional marriage,” we are investigating other countries to inhabit. (I am so glad Rush Limbaugh pointed out Obama’s transgressions to us. You know we look to him for advice because of his four traditional marriages’ worth of experience.)

Unfortunately, developed countries such as Belgium, Canada, Spain, Sweden and the Netherlands are out as they also support the abomination that is a union between two people who love each other. I mean two people who love each other who are also of the same gender, of course. The horror!

Like our friends in North Carolina, we certainly cannot condone that unnatural behavior. Leviticus 18:22 clearly states that someone cannot have sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman. Despite the fact that appears to be good news for lesbians, we understand the intent.

I want you to know that Eddie and I also plan to abide by other passages of Leviticus. For example, we’re going to make sure we eat the leftover sacrifices on the first or second day. We had no idea that the sacrifices became impure on Day Three (Lev. 19:27). Eddie knows he can’t eat any of the offerings until he gets rid of that nasty Athlete’s foot (Lev. 22:4).

Also, I may have taken the Lord’s name in vain, so Eddie has told Shirtless George next door that he can gather a posse of fellow Shriners and stone me to death (Lev. 24:16). No one can prove that I did it, though, so I may be OK. We do plan to have a word with Mrs. Hope on Victory Drive, however. She clearly doesn’t realize that she is flirting with a stoning of her own (Lev. 20:27).

The good news is that we are going to have help moving because we can buy some people (Lev. 25:45). We also have plenty of places to choose from for our new home. Much of Africa and the Middle East have varying penalties for homosexuality.

I hear Saudi Arabia is nice this time of year, and they have the sense to have the death penalty to punish the gays. Of course, I won’t be able to drive there. If we women could drive, of course, it would “provoke a surge in prostitution, pornography, homosexuality and divorce.” We can’t have that. (And I’m sure I’ll get used to wearing an abaya.)

We’ll miss you and Katherine, Dad, but you know we just can’t have the gays running around and being happy together, let alone paying taxes and expecting equal treatment.

I know this sounds different from what I’ve said in the past, but I’ve seen the error of my ways. Thanks to Fox Nation, Pat Buchanan and Rush, of course, Eddie and I now realize that the gays are destroying our marriage (and here I thought it was all the time I spent ignoring him when I was working on my dissertation). During this dark time for heterosexual marriage, we now know that we must look to beacons of hope such as Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries, Newt Gingrich, and, of course, Rush himself to educate us on how traditional marriage is supposed to work.

If Saudi Arabia doesn’t work out, there’s always the Moon. Newt won’t allow a bunch of gays up there, I’m sure. I know he’s out of the race for 2012, but there’s always hope for 2016.

Love always,
Beth

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Thinking of going to Vegas? Looking for something other (cheaper) than Celine and casinos? Check out Beth’s Vegas Guide for Weirdos Like Her.

1. Take a sweet limo from the airport.

2. Get married (remarried, renewed, whatever) in the cheesiest way possible.

3. Play a round of miniature golf with KISS (replicas, of course).

4. Enjoy an evening of “Absinthe” — a mix of comedy and Cirque du Soleil.

These two are on roller skates.

5. Listen to a band like Squeeze at the House of Blues.

6. Watch the dancing fountain at the Bellagio.

7. Show your love for your friends outside their hotel room door. (Thanks, Royce and Sarah!)

8. Eat at delightfully tacky restaurants such as the Peppermill.

9. Go to one of the billion sex shops and marvel at the wares.

10. Wait for an hour for the shuttle back to your hotel because someone doesn’t want to walk. Watch people walk up and down the strip.

11. Take pictures of all the entrepreneurs in their get-ups.

12. Take photos of your friends in front of interesting signs.

13. Copyedit signs.

Is spelling it that way supposed to be a joke?

Should be "girls who want to meet you."

14. Bask in the glow of the city’s neon.

15. Keep your mouth shut about all your adventures. (I have, more or less.)

Safe travels!

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The best part of the Vegas trip was people-watching. Folks like to let it all hang out, sometimes literally. Allow me to elucidate:

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Up next: Fun things to do in Vegas

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It’s been two weeks (two weeks!) since my last post. I have one word as an excuse: Vegas. Here are two more: Vegas recovery.

The city is known as the adult Disney World for a reason. And I can’t really discuss that reason, because, well, you know.

I will share a little, though: I was there to present a paper and attend a conference. I flew out a couple of days early with Eddie and our friends Royce and Sarah.

The first thing we did? Renew our vows, of course. Our wedding 16.5 years ago was a tasteful, lovely affair in Forsyth Park in Savannah.

So naturally, we went with something tacky for the renewal: The Little White Wedding Chapel. It was the chapel of choice for such esteemed celebrities as Britney Spears and Sinéad O’Connor, so it was good enough for us.

In the back of a pink Cadillac in the Tunnel of Love, we promised to love each other in sickness and health, and all the rest of that stuff.

The way the minister performed the ceremony, however, makes us think we are now all married to each other.

I’m OK with that. These are the people we spend the most time with anyway, so why not?

Up next: bizarre behavior (not mine).

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Camping seems like a great idea until you find yourself coated in mosquito bites, sleeping on a rapidly deflating air mattress, and lathering your children in calamine lotion because of a mysterious rash.

Why do people in first-world countries see the need to schlep their belongings out to the woods to sleep on the ground? Isn’t one of the benefits of being citizens of a developed nation the fact that we have beds, shelter, etc.?

I didn’t think about any of this as I happily agreed to go camping with two other families at Edisto Island State Park this weekend. Roaring fire? S’mores? Getting back to nature? Sign me up.

But these should have been my first and second clues that this was a bad idea:

Uh oh.

The creatures were out in full force. Worms were rappelling out of the trees like Tom Cruise in “Mission Impossible.”

This worm took up residence in my hair.

And that suited Dominic and Gideon just fine.

Dominic shows off his worm habitat.

To be fair, the campsite was equipped with water and electricity, so it is not like we were truly roughing it.

Camp, sweet camp

But as soon as we put up the tent, it rained. And rained. And rained. We stayed inside and watched superhero cartoons.

The rain finally moved on, leaving everything dirty and muddy. Nate’s shoes were destroyed, so he borrowed Charlotte’s as he went to get a drink (and grab Charlotte’s purse).

Nate brings sexy back.

Despite the monsoon, we did have the requisite cookout, fire and s’mores.

And Nate’s sexy look worked on someone: a friendly Southern toad.

The next day we hit the beach.

This is one way to keep him still.

Gideon can't stand to be left out.

Dominic finds some kind of crab.

New media and old media happily coexist on the beach.

Good company, lots of laughs, and some relaxation almost made up for the critters, dirt and back pain.

However, as Eddie groused the whole time he was loading and unloading the car, I’m going to guess that is the last time he strays from the comfort of his own habitat.

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It’s good to have friends you’ve known for decades. You can be your unvarnished self and they still like you. My unvarnished self spent the weekend in New Orleans with my friend Julia, whom I’ve known since eighth grade. She was there for a conference* so I used frequent flier miles to join her. My cost for transportation and hotel: $10.

Savannah has been called a small New Orleans. It’s more like this: Savannah is the girl with “a reputation” who still dresses up every day and goes to church on Sundays. New Orleans is her trashy older sister who whores herself out to buy heroin.

To report everything that we did and saw will take more than one post (and I’m not sure I want to incriminate myself or Julia). I’ll just share with you some visual highlights.

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* This is what happens when people get older and have jobs and mortgages. When they are desperate to get out of town, they join up with friends who are going to conferences for work (read: free hotel room).

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Sign here

Our journey through France, Switzerland and Germany taught me plenty. It was because I was open to all the signs, of course.

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