I hate flying

I'm flying to Buffalo on Friday for the weekend and I'm not looking forward to getting there. I hate flying for two reasons, 1) Because I'm afraid of crashing and 2) Because I get really, really airsick.

Now my dad is a career jet pilot so I have been accostomed to flying my whole life. Obviously it was a big part of my dad's life so therefore, we had countless opportunities to fly while growing up. I have even worked at an airport where private jets would fly in and we'd refuel them and provide other services. You would think that after so much exposure, I would almost be aloof to the idea of flying - but that's definitely not the case. Now I know that the chances of the plane crashing are very, very slim. I know you are more likely to get run over by a bus while walking down the street. Regardless, I am still scared of crashing because IF it does happen then you're pretty much dead.

When I do fly somewhere, I always have rituals to help me in remaining calm:

-Dramamine and anxiety medication are necessities. I must take 3-4 non-drowzy Dramamine's and a couple of anxiety pills before boarding. I keep them handy while I'm sitting in the plane and will chew on them when nervous tension arise.

-When boarding, I observe the exists and escape routes. I look for anything suspicious. I listen to the plane's engine for anything abnormal.

-I watch the flight attendants very closely. They will be the tell-tale sign if anything is wrong.

-In an attempt to distract myself, I look at Skymall magazine and try to pick out all the things I could use while sipping on my Gingerale.

Our trip to Miami

This past weekend we made the 11 hour drive to Miami for my cousin Jessica's wedding. Will and I left Thursday morning at 5:30 AM to head down there. We both aren't morning people but surprisingly we slept well that night and were rearing to go by morning. The trip down was uneventful with the exceptions of a few rain storms in FL and some bad traffic. We stopped for lunch in Flagler, FL at a Woody's BBQ. We both ordered the "Carolina BBQ" sandwich and interestingly, it wasn't bad! It tasted as authetic as you could imagine.

Here's some pictures of us driving:

I look pretty mean (I was just trying to drive carefully) and Will had to make a face right when I snapped the shot.

We got into Miami right about 5:30 PM and met up with my parents and Hannah. We were ready to eat and explore the city so we changed clothes and headed onto the Monorail to go to Bayside, a neat marketplace with outdoor restaurants and shops. We chose to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe and afterwards we sat outside and sipped on daquari's while listening to the live band. It was fun.

Friday the Fourth was the day of the wedding so we woke up and headed straight for the pool. We were there pretty much all day hanging out with some of our family members and working on our tans. Talk about vacation!

The wedding began at 5PM with the reception immediately following at the Marriott (where we were staying). We had a blast at the reception dancing and just being with everyone. Here's some pictures of before the ceremony and at the reception.

We left Miami the next morning to head back to NC. The way back was better than the way down, but sad because we wanted more time to vacation! Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. Here's some cool pictures of Miami from our hotel room.

So I've been housesitting/dogsitting this week for Will's parents. They needed someone to watch their dachshund, Humphrey, as well as just someone to get the mail, water the plants, take the garbage out, etc.

I have to admit that I've never gotten over my fear of being home alone all night. Especially in a big house. Now, yes, I do live alone in my apartment but that seems somewhat manageable since my apartment is small and I'm in such close proximity to others. But you put me all alone in a big house with lots of windows and weird noises, I get really freaked out. Last night I kept hearing strange sounds all over the house and then my mind races to what it could be (I always assume the worst). Needless to say, I locked my bedroom door just in case. I think I need to stop watching all those 48 Hours Mysteries about murders.

I think the scaredest I've ever been was in our old house in Wilmington when I was in high school. I used to stay up really late and watch TV in my bedroom and talk on AIM into the early hours of the morning. One particular night, when everybody else was asleep, I was up doing my usual routine when I heard a car door shut from outside. My window faced the street so I peered out my window to see who was there. All I could see was a silhouette of a man standing by his car parked right in front of our house. He just seemed to be standing there looking at our house. I just remember being real panicky that this man might try to break in and I contemplated waking my parents up, but to do so I'd have to walk across the hall in front of a big window that the man could probably see through. But just as fast as he appeared, the strange man left but I barely slept a wink that night.

I just hope that I won't hear anymore weird noises tonight :(

Losing a pet

Last week the sad reality of losing a pet hit hard as our beloved family dog, Miles, suddenly passed away. It's been tough this week to cope with his loss. Never had I imagined that losing a pet could be absolutely devastating - it's like losing a member of the family.

The circumstances of Miles' death have been a tough pill to swallow. We don't really know what happened but we speculate he either stopped breathing or had heart failure. He was still a "young" dog at 7 so we assumed we had at least a few more years to live, but I suppose his body couldn't hold on any longer. I just hope Miles didn't feel pain or struggle in his last few moments.

I've had pets (well, cats) my whole life, but none came close to the bond our family formed with Miles. I remember my mom and I really lobbying hard to convince my dad to let us have a dog. We knew we had to choose the perfect dog for our family, as well as the perfect dog for my mom's career. As a clinical social worker, my mom became aware of how animals can be used in patient rehabilitation and therapy. The positive effects of pet therapy have been studied and well documented and Mom thought it would be an excellent way to reach patients that wouldn't ordinarily be treated by standard means. After careful research, we found the perfect dog for our family and for her patients, a handsome French Bulldog puppy that we named Miles. Now, Miles had a tough beginning. He was the runt of the litter and was born with a herniated umbilicial cord that required three surgeries before we got him at three months. Although we might have been taking a risk by adopting a "sick" dog, we fell in love and even considered how patients might be able to relate to Miles' handicaps instead of a dog that was show-dog material.

I know everybody brags about how wonderful their dog is, but Miles really was wonderful. He never made a mess, he was so obidient, and he would always greet you at the door and was so excited to see us. He was most content just to sit in your lap or at your feet as if he was claiming you as his own. We nicknamed him "The Buddy" because he really was a buddy, a best friend, a pal.

Miles also made a difference in hundreds of people's lives. He was a regular at the hospital, working mostly with abused children. In fact, Miles was actually named New Hanover Regional Medical Center's "Employee of the Month." They did a news story on him about his accomplishments and how he was impacting so many people. More recently, I was able to witness Miles' positive effect when Hannah and I took him to a nursing home. One woman, who was bedridden, had just celebrated her birthday the week before and was so excited about having Miles visit her in her room. We put him on her bed and she was so content to pet him and talk about the dogs she had onced owned. When it was our time to go, the lady told me and Hannah that Miles' visit was her birthday present. That almost moved me to tears.

Miles' passing brings about a great void in our family. I went home this past weekend and it was so hard to walk in the door and Miles not be there to greet me. It was hard not seeing him in his room on his pillow like he always was. But life must go on and as the days pass on, the pain won't pierce any longer. I won't ever forget Miles. He was the best dog ever.

Anybody but Obama

I don't see the appeal of Barack Obama. It seems like so many of my fellow young people are huge supporters and this concerns me. Sure, he sounds convincing and articulates himself well, but strip away the veneer and what's left?

First off, what makes him the best candidate without using the words "hope," "change," or "inspiration"? I find none. Any candidate that goes out there and boasts about how he's going to change the US for the better and make it a happy place once again raises red flags in my eyes. Isn't that what John Kerry unsuccessfully tried to do four years ago? He talked about change and how he's got a plan but never laid the foundation for how he would enact change. How exactly will Obama change us? Well, let's look at reality. Obama has three years in the Senate -before that he was a lawyer. Compared to other ex-Presidents, Obama's experience (or lack thereof) is laughable. What has he done in 3 years? Not much. What makes him think he has what it takes to be Head of State, Head of Government, Commander in Chief? What makes him think he has the background to solve our most crucial problems - a bad economy, a failing social security system, homeland security? I know how he'll "change" America. Higher taxes! And he's got the answers to the Iraq War? He hasn't ever even served in the United States Military for goodness sake!

We cannot trust Barack Hussien Obama. Our prime example is his allegiance to the Rev. Jeremiah Wright for twenty years. I'm appaled that people are accepting his "apology" for Rev. Wright's comments by saying that he's like a "crazy uncle" that says things you don't necessarily always agree with and instead shifting the focus to his "racist" grandmother. I can't believe that somebody would sit in a church for two decades and listen to a bigotted pastor if they did not agree. As a Christian, I feel that that my church is a crucial part of my life and its teachings and beliefs reflect the person that I am. Can the same be true for Obama? I think so. He's not trustworthy, plain and simple.

Scary Maintenance Man

The apartment complex in which I live is a very nice community with very nice tenants. In the short while that I have lived there, I have never once felt unsafe. However, I've been on edge for the last few nights all because of a late night encounter with the maintenance man.

The other night I was unusually tired and went to bed fairly early. I must have been sound asleep when all of a sudden I heard Chico suddenly wake up and start barking. I roused from my deep sleep as I heard a loud banging on my door and a man's voice saying "Hello? Hello?" At first, I wasn't sure what to do. I certainly wasn't going to go answer the door in the odd hours of the morning to see what on earth this stranger wanted from me. I even contemplated calling the police to remove this person from my front door. Thoughts were racing through my head as I'm wondering if it's a drunk guy, a neighbor with an emergency, or somebody looking for a party at the wrong unit. Before I could take action, the banging stopped but I could still hear the voice seemingly coming closer and closer to my bedroom door. Then just like out of a scene of a horror movie, my living room lights cut on and I knew at once that this mysterious person was inside my apartment. In almost a panic, I dashed out of my bed and opened by bedroom door. There standing in front of my door is the maintenance man that is employed by my complex. I didn't really know what to say in that instant, but before anything could come out of my mouth, the man tells me he's here to fix my AC unit because it was leaking water into the unit downstairs. He let himself in because he didn't think anybody was home. I groggily watched as this would-be intruder promptly fixed the unit and left.

I was shaken by the entire incident and a little paranoid that this man has access to my apartment anytime. What an unsettling thought. So, I've been locking my bedroom door at night but so far there have been no further intrusions to report.

Goodbye, Mama

Last night my grandmother passed away. Upon hearing the news, I've gone through a plethora of emotions from sadness and solemness to peacefulness and happiness. Today has been a bizarre day as I struggle to hold back tears and yet come to grips that I'll never see her again.


We all called her Mama (pronounced Muh-Muh), which was what she called her mother. Mama was a unique lady. She was tough on the outside but underneath the veneer she was a thoughtful, warm, youthful woman who had a wonderful sense of humor. Her chuckle was infectious - anytime you heard her laugh it would inexplicably create laughter for all!


Some of my earliest memories of Mama was when I was about four or five years old. Those were my "rough" years, as I was adjusting to gaining a baby sister and not being the center of attention anymore. At the time, I had somewhat of a displaced sense of humor that oftentimes was mistaken for being bratty and rude. Admittedly, I did offend some - such as the time that I told my aunt that she was an "ugly lady" (although she's far from it). While I stepped on the toes of many, Mama always seemed to understand my sense of humor and take it in stride. She used to come up behind me and "squeeze my peaches" (butt cheeks) and it would instantly cause me to erupt in laughter. I was so amused by her squeezing my peaches, that I would ask her to do it and say it over and over again. It must have driven her nuts, but she never let me know it.

Since my family is from the Buffalo, NY area, we have always been dedicated Bills fans. Mama was no exception. During the Bills' glory days, she would sit on the couch on Sunday afternoons and cheer for them. I got to experience one such occasion that has left a lasting impression on me several years later. We were at my Uncle Matt's house and Mama, with beer in hand, sat down and started to watch the game. After only a couple of minutes of watching the game, Mama's blood starting to boil after the Bills, in typical fashion, started to let the game slip away. It was hilarious to witness my grandmother on the couch going nuts and yelling at the players to shape up and start playing football like real men!


Mama was also incredibly thoughtful and humble. She came to Wilmington in the summer of 2000 after my mom had major surgery. Mama was there to not only take care of mom in recovery, but also to take care of the household in lieu of mom's absence. I remember coming home one day from the beach, and Mama had already cooked dinner, cleaned the house, made sure mom was comfortable, and was scrubbing under the stovetop burners with a toothbrush! If you were fortunate enough to have Mama cook for you, you wouldn't go hungry because she would make a pot of spaghetti or soup enough for an entire Army Battalion. I suppose that is the way to do it when you have seven children and sixteen grandchildren. Anytime you ate at her house, Mama would make sure you had plenty to eat, plenty to drink, and everything tasted and looked alright. We would sometimes kid her because she'd be too busy asking if your oatmeal was warm enough or your coffee had enough cream in it to even eat herself. And while she didn't have much money of her own, she'd always make sure that all sixteen of her grandchildren would get a birthday and a Christmas gift from her every year.


There's so many anecdotes and amusing stories I could tell of Mama. I could talk about how she knew what everything cost in Super WalMart, I could talk about how she'd watch Family Feud on full blast while doing word search puzzles, or of her preference for shiny, metallic, open-toed sandles. I could go on and on and tell about what a wonderful presence she has been in my 22 years. I do know that we will miss her badly and she'll always be remembered in our hearts and minds as the matriarch of the family, the one that persevered through so much and did so with grace and dignity. Goodbye Mama, we'll miss you.