DBPW Day 88 Grateful Yes, but I am GONNA bitch first!

So I am in Florida.  I will be grateful for that in a minute okay, first, we bitch!

I arrived at the airport fresh as a daisy prepared to take on the world and the heat of a crowded airport during my river of death I call, a menstrual cycle. 

I did well all the way up to getting on the plane.  Boarding was fine, got my bag up in the overhead, separated my stuff out and into my purse for travel, proceeded to plant myself in the seat and died.  Right there on the spot I died.  My ass BARELY fit in the WestJet seat.  I kid you not, I was being squeezed from every direction.  When a 6 foot man came to sit next to me we looked at each other and sighed and both said at the exact same second, "could be worse" I added "I suppose".  He was half on top of me.  I couldn't put my arms in a rested position unless I wanted to feel him up.  Fuck it was awful.  I don't remember the seats being that tight on WestJet or perhaps my ass wasn't that big.  That doesn't explain the poor decent sized fella next to me, he didn't have a double D ass. 

3 hours later, drenched in his and my sweat, I arrived slightly nauseous (that was new) in the most humid, hottest, busiest, airport in well, forever.  I almost died AGAIN, when I hit the wall of air.  I realized quickly I was kidding myself with thoughts of a pool or beach.  I'd fucking melt and bleed to death.  A tampon would do the trick?  Sure, one the size of a fucking flashlight maybe.  

But still, grateful me, in Florida I thought to myself as I hopped in a cab. 

When I arrived at the Sheraton on the beach, I thought, "hmmmm where exactly is this beach they speak of, must be at the back of the hotel".  Where was my beach front room?  I overlooked a parking lot.  If I leaned into the window squishing my nose I could make out a touch of sand.  Okay, I could live with that, was a great deal on Expedia.  What can I expect?  I think I can expect a clean, unstained room.  Isn't that what I can expect?  A room where there aren't odd stains on the lampshades!!!!!  A room where taking off my shoes didn't scare me. 

I left the room immediately and went back to the front desk, thankfully close with my carryon and 1 bag.  I complained lightly, saying it was likely "my snobbiness being the problem" I said.  So they upgraded me.  No extra charge they said, I will be happy they said.  Off I went whistling to myself. 

Well I was now in the south tower, the beach tower now.  Yay me.  I walked 173 miles, inside, outside, through gates, up stairs, down two hallways and got to my new upgraded room.  Whoooo whooo.  I was winded, sweaty and my back was killing me but I WAS THERE, I made it to my newly upgraded room.

It was the IDENTICAL room overlooking the patio of the pool, not the pool so I was staring at 4 women's asses.  The beach was a car sized spot through the window.  The stain, matched on the lampshade?  Perhaps a cleaning woman spit shines with tobacco in her mouth????   I could live with the asses if hubby was there, least he'd have been entertained.   

Fuck me, Bi Polar lady with OCD and anxiety tendencies is falling, falling fast I thought to myself as I watched a woman rotated half an inch in the moving sun while I stood still in my shoes as the carpet looked sticky. 

I called the husband.

He immediately called the hotel and got me another upgrade.....to the same room I had just left.  You heard me.  I left 270 to meet the manager to walk back towards 270 before I spoke up.  "Oh that is the upgrade", the Manager said.  When was this hotel made I thought to myself.  Then I asked.  1970.  Awesome.  "Has it been refurbished since that time?"  I kept that to myself. 

I checked out.  I went down the road to the Westin, another Starwood Hotel.  We are members.  There it was.  Clean design, water sounds, wood everywhere, people in suits that fit.  OMG I was home.  No rooms.  Jesus fuck.  The cab driver who had my bags had moved the car, I shit my pants.  I thought he robbed me.  

It was all very upsetting.  

Until the husband called again. 

I am writing to you now 15 minutes away from the beach, who cares. 

In a business part of town, who cares.

I am in a beautifully decorated, huge, cold, clean room at the Westin.  I have soaps and shampoo and stuff that look unused and smell lovely.  My bed is "heavenly" as are my towels.  OMG I almost flew home there for a while.  I am so happy now I skipped around the room and ordered a healthy over indulgence of room service. 

So off I go now.  To bid you all a good evening in my happy, quiet, clean, beautiful room my husband found for me in the wrong, yet perfect part of town. 

When I checked in here, no where were there people with bags of alcohol around me.  No where.  I got the weird looks for the tattoos!  I can live with that.  Perhaps tomorrow I will go lie beside the highway by the pool.  So what, it's next to I95.  But it still looks lovely in all it's spa like design with high walls of greenery and flowers everywhere.  It's very unlike the pinto bean shaped one at my first hotel with people drinking beer in cans all around.  It was then I realized I was indeed on the beach in FORT LAUDERDALE.  Dumb ass is who?  ME that's who!

Grateful(s):

It's really hot.
It's a writing course held by Miss Hay House herself.
With Dr. Dyer.
Room service is coming.
I have a $8 beer from the mini bar. 
I have valium.
I am grateful for many things but most importantly that guy Dan I married.  He's pretty darn perfect. 
Having a DAN tops all.  *sigh* He makes my life better for it every day he's a part of it. 

*love*