An Open Letter to Dan Gutman

Dan. Dan dan dan dan dan dan. DAN. According to the internet, you are a children’s book author, e-book writer, classroom visitor, and based on the insane photos you’ve chosen to post of yourself, a big fan of forced goofiness.

My five year old’s grandmother lovingly bought him some of your My Weird School series, specifically Mrs. Dole Is Out of Control. She lovingly read him the first six chapters. I was up in his room helping him get dressed for the day when he asked me to read him the next chapter.

DOLE

One page in, I come across this gem:

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Last Day of Vacation Tries to Kill Me: Volume II

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Me and Jones at the airport in Aruba. And this was BEFORE we knew what was going to happen to us in Atlanta. Sidenote: no clue who that dude is behind us. Santa, maybe? Not sure.

Because I travel a lot, odds are fairly high that I’m going to run across glitches. I can only imagine the logistical gymnastics that occur on a daily basis for airlines, with tens of thousands of flights taking off and landing each day.

It’s more surprising that I don’t have MORE delays and issues. However, it seems that when something does happen to me, it’s always at the very worst time. Like, say, you’re stuck in Denver with your boss, or, your traveling solo with a four year old and 27 pieces of luggage and you get stranded in New Orleans overnight.

It’s never on the days where I can absorb the bump and go about my life. Ever. Like yesterday. But before we get there, let’s go back in time 9 days…

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A Travel Nightmare Of My Own Making

From my Selfies at the Airport Drinking Wine collection. For print information, please contact me.

From my Selfies at the Airport Drinking Wine collection. For print information, please contact me.

Usually when I tee up a travel blog post, it’s to blast an airline (Southwest) for some terrible, awful thing they did to me. This post is very similar, but with a twist. Yes, I’m flying Southwest. And yes, I’m stuck in an airport. But this time, oh this time, dear readers, I did it to my damn self.

I had to go to our Woodbridge, NJ office for work. The closest airport to Woodbridge, NJ is Newark. If NYC area airports formed a human body-shaped constellation, JFK would be the linty belly button, La Guardia the sweaty underboob, and Newark the dirty butthole.

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A New Enemy Reveals Itself: Last Day of Vacation

This has absolutely nothing to do with this blog post at all. This is just a really cool thing that I got to do while in NC. I rode around the Charlotte Motor Speedway going 185. LIKE A BOSS.

This has absolutely nothing to do with this blog post at all. This is just a really cool thing that I got to do while in NC. I rode around the Charlotte Motor Speedway going 185. LIKE A BOSS.

I swear a blood oath against Last Day of Vacation. They just do not seem to go well for me. Actual vacations, great. Last day of them, new sworn enemy.

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SUNSET SWIMS!

Saturday was the last day of Casey’s family vacation, where 36 of us get together at Lake Norman, NC for a week. Yes, that’s a lot of people. But with three boats, a mix of ages, fairly even tempers all around, a genuine love of one another, and 47 cases of wine, it really does work.

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Southwest Airlines. Mission Statement:

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I had a really nice run today. I ran fast, way faster than my usual pace. It was the pace of a woman desperate to make her connection and get back to her family after a three day work trip. It was the pace of a woman who did not want to get stuck in the Denver airport for five hours.

It was the pace of a woman who already had a really, really crappy experience with Southwest and had zero faith in their ability to deliver on their lofty claims of Loving Their Customers (side note to Southwest: Putting words in Capital Letters doesn’t Mean anything if You don’t Deliver on Said Words. Just Saying).

It was the pace of a woman who landed ten minutes before her connection from Denver to Houston was taking off, and had a good 1/4 mile of airport to get through.

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An Open Letter to Southwest Airlines Regarding my Recently Diverted Flight to Houston

Southwest Airlines, where you can pick your seat, but not your destination.

Southwest Airlines, where you can pick your seat, but not your destination.

Dear Southwest Airlines,

Coming back from vacation sucks. No one is ever like, MAN. I can’t wait to hit the office! I’m going to sit at my desk and work like no one’s business! This particular vacation was ending with me flying to Houston (FORESHADOWING: THIS PART IS IMPORTANT) solo with Jones and Casey was flying to Pittsburgh for work.

This trip was extra-special amazing because my boo turned 40, and his best friend and his family came over from Ft. Lauderdale to spend two nights with us. It was also his step brother’s 35 birthday, so loads of cake and celebrating and drinking and sitting on the beach and drinking and we had some drinks. Just a really good time.

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