Expat Life
Unless you’ve been living in a cave somewhere in the world, you’re more than aware of the daily headlines here in the US. And, by daily headlines I mean the never-ending O.M.G. when will it end presidential election.
Unless you’ve been living in a cave somewhere in the world, you’re more than aware of the daily headlines here in the US. And, by daily headlines I mean the never-ending O.M.G. when will it end presidential election.
As we sat in our assigned cubicle talking with the social security representative I looked at Abi and thought, “Wait! What?! How did we get here?”
Never let it be said that there is not a lot to shout about when it comes to points programs. Abi and I have been working the points programs for years (and years). And I talk about Hilton so much that maybe one day the company’s powers-to-be will pay me to stay with them! Ha!
I can’t be 60-years-old. I simply cannot be 60. Six-oh-no! When did it happen? How the hell did it happen? I remember my mother at 60. Sixty was my mother, not me. Sixty sounds so old. But, the day has arrived. No matter how I fought it. It arrived. Today. My birthday. Can I just skip this day?
I caught the gist of the phrase based on what I was hearing on the news, but I have to admit I still went to everyone’s back-up source and Googled the term.
Prague. For whatever reason I just couldn’t hit that “book it” button. I’d somehow managed to check off the rest of the key nights, you know the ones – gotta be there the night before the flight – nights. Our upcoming trip is a 4-parter and while I had parts 2, 3, and 4 mapped out I just couldn’t seem to pull it together for part 1.
There is an age-old saying; money can’t buy happiness. I think I could argue the point. Money bought this and I’m pretty damn happy right about now. Have we been traveling like this for the past eight weeks? Absolutely not. This little slice of paradise is the result of a substantial withdrawal from our points bank, but that’s a story for another post.