It's all relative . . .

It is now day 3 of The Haller Family Vacation. To be fair and completely accurate most of us involved in said holiday do not currently carry that particular surname. But it is my belief that everything important should have a title or headline. And as I'm not feeling very creative or witty at the moment we'll go with the above.

Let's get caught up, shall we?

Day 1 began quite early. Or very, very late? Younger sister Sarah and I made the wise decision to stay up the majority of the night before in an effort to get everything packed and ready to go for our rendezvous with the rest of the fam. I'm already painfully aware of the deficiencies in my packing - lots of socks but no toothpaste - so am thinking that the decision, perhaps not so wise after all. But I've digressed. Sure to happen frequently in the course of this blog. Moving on . . .

I'd like to be able to just gloss over the majority of day one and describe it as a long and uninteresting day of travel. But that wouldn't be the truth or any where near as much fun. Instead I'd like to share with all of you a little video gem of SJ living her life through music.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Sfzf1N-tOA (sorry for being so low-tech, couldn't get it to embed in the blog. working on it!)

Obviously, all of our fellow travelers in the Memphis airport were highly entertained by this and not at all scared. It was 8 in the morning.

On the plane we continued to entertain those in our close proximity while ironing out the details for the travel show Sarah and I feel we are destined to star in. The premise of the show - which we've decided to initially limit to the US- would be trips to places made famous through songs. We'd visit places in person that others had previously visited through music. We'd give special attention to places that described certain actions as we feel we (as well as others) would enjoy the re-enactment. Hence, "Walking in Memphis." Our preliminary list of places to see - and sing about - is long, promising, and another blog topic altogether. See? Told ya. I've digressed.

After leaving fair Tennessee we arrived in
Tallahassee, Florida. Due to circumstances
outside of our control (and you KNOW how much I hate not being in control!) we settled in for a 5 hour wait for the rest of the immediate Haller family crew before cramming into a minivan for our trek to the beach. We arrived without further incident and not much fanfare (will tactfully skate over all the arguments and frustrations re: the speed at which my mother drives) at our home for the next week. My cousin (God bless you Julie!) had the margaritas ready and waiting. The long day of travel was forgotten and the real start to our vacation had begun . . .

Frankie Says Relax

Yesterday I purposely slept late, only waking to keep an appointment I'd made previously for a massage. Darlene the masseuse beat me up. She really did. But it was in that aahh-my-muscles-really-needed-that kind of way. She told me I had an "analytical energy" and proceeded to have a one-sided dialogue about how interesting it was that our professions or careers had such an impact on our bodies. I usually zone out during a massage, but enough filtered through that I'm pretty sure she was saying that my body was mad at me for being a doctor. Really, really mad.

After over an hour of paying to be pummelled, I decided to further my relaxation by going to see a movie. I chose the new Die Hard movie. For any John Mclane/Bruce Willis fans out there please allow me to take a short detour and say: You won't be disappointed. Bruce as John did his thing and did it entertainingly well. His chosen career definitely impacted his body - ouch buddy! As far as relaxation goes however, not sure how much I got accomplished - by the end of the movie those aahh muscles were feeling pretty tense again:)

So, what's a girl to do? Well, this girl went shopping. And, again, maybe not the best choice if relaxation was the goal. Several hours, one cute dress, and a screaming migraine later I left that particular haven-of-calm we call a mall. Pretty sure I'm never going back . . . well, maybe not never.

Next stop: pedicure. This, I thought, was fool proof. What could possibly go wrong in this beautiful little corner of the world where for 45 minutes someones sole purpose in life, their only goal, is to pamper your feet? I forgot that they ask you questions. So, so many questions.

Do you want a manicure too? No thank you. Are you sure? Yep. What color for your toes? Uhhhh. Hmmmm. Ma am, color? Let's see . . . not sure. Hmmm. You want French instead? Ok. You want a delux today? Sounds good. The water ok? Perfect. Manicure? Uh, no. No shave today, huh? Well, no actually. Want wax? No. Sure? Yes. How about we clean up your eye brows? No thanks. Paraffin? Hmmm. Paraffin wax for your feet? Oh, ok. Too hot? Uhhhh. Feel good? Uhhhh . . . well, actually yeah. It does. Thank you. Good, you want manicure now too?

And so, after a marathon day of relaxation I arrived home with pretty toes, a new dress, sore muscles, and a nagging headache. In a complete state of exhaustion.