SYTYCD Finale Recap, Part 2

Well, folks, another season is over, and it sure feels like that happened fast. Maybe because it did. But I digress, as we all know how I feel about Fox's format for SYTYCD Fall Edition. Anyhoodle, apparently I failed to address some important issues in my previous rant (according to my sister) most importantly where has Mia Michaels been??! Well thanks to Google, I found out. Apparently she left the show. For good. The thing that shocks me about this is how Fox and Nigel kept this so quiet. I mean, he managed to discuss repeatedly his efforts trying to court Paula Abdul to be a 4th judge, a choreographer, a guest performer, or the most heavily medicated audience member. Anything! Just come to our show Paula!!! He even went so far as to have an empty chair next to him with her name on it (literally, her name was on it in stickers), but no mention of how Emmy winning choreographer and panelist Mia Michaels has taken a permanent vacay, possibly even to get her own show. Now who will make our dancers cry? Who will display uninhibited hatred for them and choreograph routines about benches or asses? It's all so unsettling.

But the biggest question of the evening was what was up with Russell's injury? Or as I call it A Krumptastic Konspiracy Theory. But we'll get to that later. The evening started off with a kick-ass group routine, featuring the entire Top 20. I'd forgotten all about some of them. That one girl who was voted off first looks waaayy different than I remember. Like, so much so that I'm suspicious they got a body double. And can someone please tell me how Bianca (tap dancing female) made it to the Top 20 again??! I mean really. She's not good; very awkward looking and horrible arm positioning. Maybe that's why Mia left. She'd never let that slide. The Top 6 appear, and what is with Jakob's ubercreepy double jointed shoulder move?? It's disgusting. He did this when they were on Ellen and I was hoping it was a mistake, like he didn't know what to do with himself and it just happened, but no, I fear after doing something like that more than once, it's intentional. And wow, he's really bringing guyliner to a whole 'nother level tonight. Oh! Ashleigh throws out a pose that my dance teacher used to make us do, and I always thought it was so lame. That was 1993 and Madonna's Vogue was at the height of dance sophistication. Dear Ashleigh, it's almost 2010. Let's outgrow these things. Anyway, I like to play a little game with myself during the group routines called Guess the Choreographer. It is exactly as it sounds. This one seems very Wade Robson-y to me...(love him by the way) and... I'm wrong, it's some chick I've never heard of. Oh well, we can't be right all the time.

One of my grievances last night was that the hostess and judges were wearing attire unbefitting a special occasion like the "fin-aahh-le" of a competitive dance show. However, it seems they saved their fancy dress for tonight, and I'd say I wasn't let down but we all know it would be no fun if I didn't have something snarky and bitchy to say. First off I am 99.9% sure that Cat Deeley wore this dress on another episode. And her necklace does not go with her outfit. But her hair looks pretty (see I can be nice!). Nigel is wearing a tuxedo with no tie, which is fine but, he's wearing a pleated tuxedo shirt that just looks bare without one. But kudos on trying to be hip with the times; going sans tie is very hot right now. Mary Murphy looks surprisingly understated for someone who wears ball gowns and drips with diamonds on a regular basis. Don't even get me started on "Li'l C"; his outfit makes my head hurt. Debbie Allen is wearing a dress she stole from the TV set of Fame, Tyce looks great, but that's to be expected, and Adam Shankman still manages to look hopelessly geeky in a tuxedo.

I was concerned that with the rushed season, they wouldn't bring back the judges favorite dances, but they did, and they did me one better. This season had one bonus episode that was the Top 20 dancing in their styles, and the best thing to come of this was watching Legacy, Kevin, and Russell do hip hop together. This routine kicked off the show, and it was as good as I remembered. Ba-nanas. Between the other repeat routines and a slightly excessive 4 musical and 1 dance guest, we had the whole point of the evening: Eliminations.

This brings me back to my Krumptastic Konspiracy Theory. I'm sorry, but Russell's "injury" was all very suspect to me. They called the dancers out for the first elimination, and half of them didn't show up on stage. At this point, Cat's having technical difficulties, but we can hear her asking where the rest were, yet none of the people onstage offered the information that Russell had injured himself. He comes hobbling out onstage with the help of Ryan and says "I hurt my knee--I mean leg." Well which is it? They're saying he broke his ankle during the hip hop routine at the beginning of the show. If so, how was he able to do the whole routine with no problem? And why is it that Cat wasn't informed during one of the commercial breaks or otherwise? I know it's a live show, but still, it was weird that no one knew. Then, with each subsequent elimination, we was either using one of the other dancers as a crutch, or sitting on a stool, and I'm pretty sure the length of his right pant leg was directly proportional to how dramatic he wanted to be. When he was leaning on the stool all hangdog, it was nearly up to his knee. When it was the final elimination, and he pretty much walked out normally, it was only rolled up a little bit, like an 80's cuff.

When it comes to the Top 6, I had some pretty strong opinions this season. I ultimately felt like Legacy and Mollee should have made it over Ryan and Ashleigh. And I was hoping Ellenore would get eliminated weeks ago, so I was pleased when they were the first 3 to go. I wanted Kathryn to win, but I would've been happy if she, Jakob, or Russell had won, and I thought it was going to be either Jakob or Russell. Normally I am not a fan of the hip hop dancers who make the finals, because they are not usually as good at any of the other styles. But Russell was so incredibly talented that he could do it all, and do it well. He was the only one from auditions that I really cared if he made it to the show. Until this episode, I loved him, but for someone who "broke his ankle" he sure was able to jump up and down like a healthy person when he was announced the winner. Ripping his shirt off wasn't the classiest thing he could have done either. I wasn't surprised that he won, because you could tell the audience loved him, and I wasn't disappointed because I liked him. But I was confused by his injury and the way he seemed fine by the end of the show was just plain bizarre.

But let's not leave out the ever fabulous J.Lo singing her new song Louboutins about, what else, Louboutins. The lyrics say something about "throwing on my Louboutins," and can I just state for the record that I have tried Louboutins on (only at the Neiman Marcus outlet, I'm too afraid if I ever asked a salesperson to try on a pair they'd just laugh at me, knowing I could never afford them) and one does not "throw" Louboutins on. Uggs maybe. But when it comes to Louboutins, one must gingerly shimmy their foot into one. And then admire them endlessly. Just saying. Anyway, J.Lo's outfit was bananas. I die for her tights and glittery Louboutins. And I loved how she had former contestants as her backup dancers! That was so Jenny From the Block of her. All in all it was a great season, and I'm just bummed that it's already over. I could've watched this cast dance forever!

"Ba-da da da! Soyouthinkyoucan...DANCE" (that's me singing the theme song, in case you were wondering)

SYTYCD Finale Recap, Part 1

I am more than a fan of this season's So You Think You Can Dance. I am obsessed. I have watched previous seasons, but I haven't felt this way about the show since season 2 when Heidi (my all time favorite contestant), Travis, and Benji were competing. First of all, am I the only one who hopes that Kathryn and Legacy are dating? They were so cute together as partners, I'd just love it if they were a couple. I realize this is none of my business, but I have made it my business, and I won't rest until I get to the bottom of it! And I am ashamed to say that I really almost cried when Ryan pleaded for everyone to vote for his wife, not him, the week she was injured, and then when he dropped to his knees, head in hands, when she made it to the finale. It was so sweet. I suspect that's the only reason he made it to the finale over Legacy. Because really. I even love Cat Deeley and her lame quips that only she laughs at, and her maniacal smile after no one laughs. She pretends to make eye contact with someone in the audience and smiles bigger and bigger until her eyes roll back. It's fan-bloody-tastic. Her makeup has been especially atrocious this season as well and I love it. I do take issue with the way some things have gone this season though, and I'd like to take a minute to address my grievances with Fox.

When it was announced that there would be an extra season this year immediately following the last, I was overjoyed. More Wade Robson, more Tyce Diorio, more Mia Michaels, more Mary Murphy and her hot tamale train? Yes please. Clear my Tuesday and Wednesday nights because it's freaking on. But they messed with perfection and it really began to annoy me. During the World Series they only had one show a week so there was no voting. I repeat NO VOTING. Doesn't that defeat the purpose of the entire show? Granted the judges eliminated my least favorite contestants, but still. Now the season finale has a final 6 instead of final 4 because of Christmas. So they took away an extra week of dancing. I'd rather they just postpone the top 4 episode than do away with it. What were they thinking?? Note to Fox: next year, let's stick with one season. We got arguably the best mix of dancers ever in season 6 and we got to see less of them. Lame.

Now, let's get on with the finale recap. First off, we see our beloved Cat Deeley, and her makeup is so minimal I'd hardly realize this was the, as Cat says, "fin-ahh-le". Her hair is messily pinned up, her dress has not a trace of sequins, the only thing she has managed to do is over-accessorize with about 900 gold bracelets. I have to say I'm disappointed. Where are the drag queens that usually dress her? Now we see Nigel and it appears he has stolen Rachel Zoe's sunglasses and deemed it appropriate to wear them for the show. Nigel, incidentally, is also quite underdressed for the occasion, when only last week he was wearing a shiny leather jacket befitting James Dean. James Dean if he was going to hit up the Abbey in West Hollywood after the show. I ask you who is styling these people this week? WHERE HAVE THE GAYS GONE??!!!! They'd never let this happen.

Kathryn and Ryan are up first with a samba, and I rather enjoyed it, but their ballroom routine last week was much better. I suppose there's no topping perfection, though, and they do a great job. Jason Gilkison's ballroom routines this season are really fantastic. Makes me want to run out and see his hit Broadway show Burn the Floor. Adam Shankman says this show should be called "The Rise of Kathryn" and I have to say I agree. I didn't think I'd like her when she was all tearful and high-pitched at the auditions, but she has become my favorite contestant.

Next we have Jakob and Ellenore (it pains me to type their hideously misspelled names), and Ellenore head-tossed her way through their entire Tyce Diorio routine. The few glimpses we get of her face, it appears she is constipated. I guess this is her "quirky style" the judges are alway fawning over? Adam tells her she has never looked so beautiful and she smiles so big I think her teeth might actually explode out of her gums this time. Mary says Ellenore was smoldering, and sexy as can be. Really? The clip they subsequently show of her, she just looks confused. I, too, am confused. Confused by the judges' love for her, and confused by her making it this far. Jakob was spectacular as usual.

Russell, who I love, and Ashleigh have a beautiful lyrical routine. I also like Ashleigh a lot more than I thought I was going to at first. During the auditions she kind of annoyed me and I didn't think she'd make it. But she's really turned out to be great on this show. Nigel tells Russell he is "bloody incredible" and you know what? He IS!

Is Ellenore back already? Ugh. She and Ryan are doing a strange routine...I don't even know what style this is supposed to be. I thought Cat said it was jazz, however it is not like any jazz I ever did at Sierra Dance Academy. But then, nothing is. I'm sure the judges will say something about the choreographer being inspired by Ellenore's quirkiness and this being "right up her alley." Whatevs. I'll just distract myself with Ryan's muscles for a minute. They really are big. Whoa, I'm quickly jolted back with close up shot on Ellenore's wide, vacant, scary eyes which reveal she is trying to hypnotize me into voting for her. I will not be swayed!!! On to the judges. Adam literally just said "Ellenore, you were like Gary's muse in that one." Ha. I know my judges.

Ashleigh and Jakob do a fantastic fox trot. They dance really well together. Incidentally, I also figured out where the gays in the costume department have been hiding: they've been busy bedazzling Jakob's vest. Obviously Cat's glitter budget got used up there too, and it looks like they borrowed Nigel's best purple cravat and gave it to Jakob. Well now I know why Nigel looks so shabby and Cat looks so lackluster. It all makes sense! And is it just me or are the routines really short this episode? Hmm.

Commercial break and...Ellenore again? Seriously? Aren't we done with her yet? At least she's partnered with my #2 favorite, Russell. Their Paso Doble is good, but by the look on her face it appears she's trying to divide 1392 by 427. Give the girl a calculator and turn the camera back to Russell already!! Nigel calls her passionate and firey. Really? Really? Mmkay...I'll choose to ignore that. However, I do enjoy Adam's imitation of what Russell's friends back home must be thinking. I guess we can all assume Russell is a gangster from this?

Kathryn and Jakob doing contemporary together is absolute bliss. The only thing that would make it better would be panning to the audience and seeing Legacy wiping away a tear as he watches Kathryn. Ha! What? It could happen. He's cried a lot this season. Anyway, the judges loved it as much as I did...except after saying how much he loved it, Adam said it made him mad, but I think he meant it in the British way...? I hope they go back to switching the third judge around next season because I've had more than my fill of Adam and the cleverness he thinks he exudes.

Our resident married couple, Ashleigh and Ryan dance beautifully together. Nigel says they proved they deserved to be in the finale with this routine. I think they proved that I would've liked Ryan more all along if he hadn't have had the misfortune of being paired with Ellenore from the beginning.

The show concludes with Kathryn and Russell doing a Tabitha and Napoleon hip hop, and I could not think of a better way to end it. Loved it: love her outfit, love the dancing, love them. I will now wear out my phone voting for Kathryn and sit in anticipation of tomorrow's conclusion.

Rant of the Day

There are things in this world that delight me. Freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, peppermint mochas, puppies, kittens, and The Dish with Danielle Fishel. Just to name a few. I just wanted to bring up the fact that I do find joy in the world before I let loose with another tirade.

There are things in this world that displease me. The aforementioned lack of toilet seat covers, for example. And now I would like to present another item to add to the list of Things That Annoy Me...

I discovered this annoyance on my last trip to Border's. The annoyance has been brewing; I have felt this way for a long time, but the gravity of the annoyance was magnified on this particular trip. I love to read, but when my favorite books are turned into movies, things begin to go horribly wrong. First there is the problem with the book being destroyed in translation to film, like with Confessions of A Shopaholic. All the charm of the book was lost, and all the things that made the book so endearing were changed, and the tone of the movie became shrill and silly. Or take the recent Harry Potter films. So much of the content is cut and even changed to keep the movie to a reasonable length. Supposedly. But let's face it, the true Potter fans would sit through a six hour movie if they made it exactly like the book. I know I would. But it's not even the plot changes and omissions that bothers me the most, it is the blatant disregard for the details that make it Harry Potter; the last couple of movies the Hogwarts students have been running around in Muggle clothes, Dumbledore is stern and abrupt instead of warm and kind, and don't even get me started on Harry and Hermione's hairdos.

These things are what make the movies less magical and charming than their books, and whatever they do in the films, they can't change the books I love. Until now.

The new Thing That Annoys me is (drumroll please) when books become rereleased with the movie poster as their cover. I enjoy book covers how they were meant to be. This is what makes them mine; I can imagine the characters as I want. I admit it, I enjoyed the Twilight series. I do not enjoy the new movie poster covers that look like a bad romance novel. I know the books are a little melodramatic and everything, but I feel like Stephenie Meyer wanted the covers the original way for a reason. I liked the original covers. Going back to my issues with miscasting the novels turned movies, Becky Bloomwood in the Shopaholic books is described as a brunette. And, in one of the later books in the series she says of another character "she's a red-haired bitch and I hate her." So why is a redheaded Isla Fischer on the cover of the book?? I don't want to see Isla Fischer or Dakota Fanning or Hayden Panetierre on the cover of a novel. They're actors, not fictitious characters; I want to see them in my local movie theater or television set, not in a bookstore. That is all. *gets off soapbox*

Official New Biggest Pet Peeve

As we all know, I have recently taken a drive across these great United States. This drive took me through the states of: California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia. Phew. Incidentally, I visited public restrooms in all of these states, and it is this experience which brought about the discovery of my Official New Biggest Pet Peeve. 

Now, I am a person with quite a few pet peeves. Among them are: traffic caused by people slamming on their brakes to stare at accidents (hello, this causes more accidents, geniuses!), know-it-alls and one-uppers, people who think their dogs are people, and bad spellers. Oh I'm sure there's more; I am pretty readily annoyable. *note, "annoyable" does not count as bad spelling, I just like to make up words.

Anyhoodle, I have discovered that the pet peeve that now trumps all these other peeves is (drum roll please)... public restrooms with no toilet seat covers. In addition, what magnifies this peeve is when these restrooms have toilet paper that comes off the roll square by square. Then I have to sit there and make an origami toilet seat cover one ply at a time. I have also observed that the restrooms that lack said covers are usually the dirtiest, stinkiest ones with broken locks, doors hanging on one hinge, and toilets that won't flush properly. Hence the stinky. 

It blows my mind that in 2009 any public restroom would not come equipped with covers.  They are one of the most innovative inventions I can think of; not only do they provide sanitary protection, but they also save moments of your life that are wasted spent bending uncomfortably at the waist, pulling ply by ply off the roll to try and fashion something to protect you from whatever it is you can get from toilet seats.

Having said that, I am not a fan of those weird plastic covers that are attached to the toilet and spin around to the back, disappearing to wherever toilet seat covers go to die.  These new covers are allegedly cleaner and more efficient, as they protect the toilet from those thrill-seekers who dare to bare directly on the seat. However, I take issue with these "high tech" new covers.  I do not trust anything that thinks for itself if I cannot see where it keeps its brain. I mean, who knows where those used covers really go.

The Procrastination-Driven Life

I've thought about starting a blog for awhile now, but every time I've gotten on the computer to do it, something distracts me.  I find a hilarious site I can't seem to navigate away from, or I quiz my life away on Sporcle, or I remember someone I've been meaning to look up on imdb and then I have to check the progress on Harry Potter 7 and the Arrested Development movie and...where was I? Oh yes, I get distracted far too easily and then by time time I remember what I logged on to do it's late and time to watch Entourage and/or Dexter. I mean, there are only so many hours in a day!

Anyhoodle, I was thinking about how I always joke about my procrastination, which I have truly turned into an art form.  I have thought for awhile that I would like to write a book a la Chelsea Handler or David Sedaris, and that I would call it The Procrastination-Driven Life.  This title is of course a play on the book called The Purpose Driven Life, which incidentally I have never gotten around to reading. I did start roughly writing my book, but I haven't gotten very far. Kind of like this blog.  So, here I am, sitting here and thinking about my procrastination skillz and what a loser I can turn into, and I remembered that I can't feel too bad about myself because I read somewhere in one of my psychology books that procrastination is actually a sickness and cannot be helped. Seriously! I mean, I'm sure there's some sort of cure for it, I just haven't gotten around to making that doctor's appointment to find out. Besides, I'm sure my psychology book has solutions and cures.  I'd look it up for a reference, but I really don't feel like getting up.

The Big Easy Does It

I have always wanted to visit New Orleans.  Ever since watching Interview With TheVampire I've been fascinated by the old-fashioned charm it holds onscreen.  Now having been there, I'd like to inform you that New Orleans looks and feels nothing like it does in the movies. Nothing.  I'm so glad I got to visit it, but I have no desire to ever go back.  Perhaps I should have visited New Orleans circa 1854 and I would have enjoyed it more.

After another looooong drive through boring stretches of highway in Texas, we pull into the Big Easy around 4 am.  Oh, and side note: we had the joy of visiting a gas station restroom in the bayou where I was pretty sure we were either on location for the filming of True Blood, or had found the exact people the animatronics in the Pirates of the Caribbean ride were modeled after.

Once again, I mistakenly booked us a hotel smack in the middle of downtown.  The good news: our hotel is right on Canal Street, walking distance to the French Quarter.  The bad news: there's nowhere to park the freaking car again.  As per usual, Michael drives around looking for parking while I settle us into the room.  He comes back up around 5 to tell me there was nowhere to park, and he left it on the curb in the covered valet area, but that we have to move it in a couple hours.  We decide that it is time to bid Chucky freaking adieu, and we find the nearest U-Haul which, bless them, opens at 7.  We take a short snooze, and off we go to get rid of the evil, fun-sucking trailer, which has been like a dark cloud hovering over our trip.

PEACE OUT CHUCKY!!!!!!!

On the way to U-Haul, I call their customer disservice line to make sure it's okay to drop the trailer off at this location.  I have the following conversation:

Me: "Hi, I'd like to make sure the New Orleans location will be able to accept my trailer"

U-Haul Lady: *sigh* "What's your order number?" I tell her. Long Pause. "It's a full service station, so they'll probably be able to."

Me: "Probably?" Like how I'll probably be writing a scathing review of my experience on U-Haul.com?

U-Haul Lady: (contemptuously) "Well they should be able to, but just so you know they can charge you up to $600 for a wrongful destination fee."

Me: "Wrongful destination? But we don't even have a destination point selected yet."

U-Haul Lady: (even more contemptuously) "Well, it says you were planning on dropping it off in Florida, so this is the wrong destination."

Me: "Got it. I'll try my luck anyway."

So, we pull into U-Haul, and this one looks a little more promising as it is an actual U-Haul location and not just some crappy towing company renting U-Hauls out of their back room like before.  Enter Marty Martin, the savior of our vacation. He decides to be a New Orleans Saint (get it??) and accept our trailer with no fee. Cue angel chorus.

With the dark cloud lifted, and Chucky laid to rest, we are finally able to relax a bit, and we take in the sights and sounds of the city.  I don't know if it's just being in Louisiana in July or if the weather is always like this, but I am absolutely choking on the humidity. It is so uncomfortable, I can't understand the mass appeal of this city.  It is also by far the worst smelling place I have ever visited.  The stink just hangs in the thick, wet air, and I think I want to check out this place quickly because I am ready to move on to the Happiest Place on Earth.

Bourbon Street does hold that New Orleans charm one expects, and we walk up and down, drinking in all that it has to offer. Literally.

Or at least I did.

I mean, I have to take advantage when in a city that allows you to take your beer to go.  As we're wandering along, Michael notes that these bars we keep passing sure have a lot of guys in them. I suppose he didn't notice the rainbow flags flying outside, or the name of one of the bars in question:

I somehow doubt we will be finding a bunch of lumberjacks inside "Napoleon's Itch".

Getting S*@% on in San Antonio

After breakfast in a Tucson BBQ joint, we stuff the kitties into the crate and leave the sweltering heat of Arizona for the steamy heat of Texas. We notice that the trailer is dangerously close to the ground, but I watch Michael drive and it doesn't seem to scrape the ground at all, so we deem it safe for the day of driving ahead of us.  Still not learning our lesson about how long it took to get to Tucson from San Diego, we head out around noon, figuring that since Google tells us it will take 11 hours, we'll probably get there around 1 or 2 in the morning.

The drive itself is fairly uneventful. Just boring and long. One of my former coworkers suggested we get books on tape, and she is a fricking genius.  We got 3 David Baldacci books along with Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea and they have been life savers. It really makes the drive go by faster and more bearably.  

We are still driving at midnight and realize we forgot to factor in a crucial aspect of this leg of the trip.  From Tucson to San Antonio, we will be driving through not one but two time zones. By the time we finally pull into town, it is 5 o'clock in the morning local time. Then we discover another crucial thing we did not factor in when booking hotels.  We are towing a vehicle behind our truck.  And when I booked the hotels, I did so based on proximity to the local attractions we wanted to visit.  Well, our San Antonio hotel is smack in the middle of downtown, right by the River Walk, which is convenient, but with a parking garage that will not fit our trailer. After checking in, Michael returns to where I am sitting in our illegally parked car, and we make a mad dash with our belongings upstairs, and he drives around looking for a spot. Finally, at 6:45 he lets me know he was able to park in a valet lot at another hotel, and now he's walking the mile back to our room.  

At this point, we have hit our second wind and decide to go explore.  We get breakfast at Starbucks and enjoy the River Walk while it is still early, thus less hot, muggy, and crowded. While enjoying our leisurely walk, I feel something hit my shoulder and look down. It's bird poop. After the hellacious daylong drive, dealing with our catatonic kitty, and Chucky, I get effing s*@% on. Fabulous. A nearby busboy setting up his tables lent me his towel, and I cleaned up and had a laugh. I mean really. What else could go wrong?

I'm so glad you asked. We stayed two nights (not including the first night, which we didn't actually spend in the hotel, but in the car. And the upside is we didn't have to pay for that night since we checked in at 5 am! Yippee!!) and made sure to visit the luxury outlets in San Marcos where we managed a little retail therapy. When it was time to go, we trekked back to where the cars were waiting, and noticed the driveway we'd have to go out had a bit of a dip, which could prove problematic for our low-hanging hitch. I stood outside to watch and make sure everything was okay, and I watched as what we feared became reality.  As he slowly drove the truck out the driveway, I frantically waved that it was scraping the ground. But really, what could he do? We had to drive it out somehow. So he keeps going, slowly, and as the back tires clear the bump of the driveway, the hitch, which was scraping the ground the whole way, detaches from the truck and Chucky slides under the truck, stopping just short of crashing.

After completely blocking a street for a few minutes, Michael is finally able to reattach Chucky, and we wearily get on our way, glancing behind us constantly to make sure Chucky and Wilma (my car) are still there.  Next stop: New Orleans.

U-Haul? More Like Poo-Haul.

Our road trip's frustrations begin before the trip even starts. We are scheduled to leave Saturday morning, and stay the night in Tucson.  We figure it will take about 9 hours, but that we will get there in plenty of time to watch the UFC fights. Friday morning, Michael goes to pick up the trailer to tow my vehicle on, and we hit the first snag.  Apparently they have rented us a trailer that isn't there yet.  Considering the reservation was made far in advance, we are being charged by the day and we paid ahead of time, this is incredibly frustrating.  However, they tell us they open at 8 am the next day, and we can just get there then and it won't be long before we will be on our way, so we schedule our appointment.  Like we have another choice.  Thanks for the amazing service, U-Haul!

With all our furniture gone, we spend our last evening reading on the kitchen floor, and fall asleep on our less than comfortable air mattress. It's pretty much like sleeping in a bounce house. When morning comes, we still have to pack the last of our things in our cars, which takes much longer than anticipated.  We end up getting to U-Haul at 10:30, 2 and a half hours later than our scheduled time.  No matter, because they still are not ready for us.  The trailer is at least there this time but apparently now the problem is that there's only one person employed there who is capable of hooking it up for us, and he hasn't shown up to work yet, nor do they have any clue as to where he is or when he will be there. So, with our keys turned in and no place to go (except Tucson), we wait. And wait. And wait some more.  Finally, at noon, he shows up for work. Employee of the freaking year.  After reluctantly helping us attach the trailer (um, isn't that your job??!), he vehemently refuses to help us put the car on the trailer, because he says it would be a liability. Luckily, after careful driving and waving on, we are able to do it on our own, which was totally scary, and we are finally on our way at 1 pm.  Driving with my car precariously hanging off his truck is a lot scarier than we anticipated.  We can't drive faster than 60 miles per hour, and we finally pull into our Tucson hotel at 12:30 am.  Poor Tito is scared out of his mind at his new surroundings, and promptly hides under the bed from the time we arrive until we pull him out the next morning, only to stuff him back in the crate to do it all again.  Next stop: San Antonio.

From San Diego to Quantico

I had the recent joy of participating in a cross-country road trip with my husband, two cats, and the U-Haul trailer we affectionately dubbed "Chucky" because it was red and it was evil, just like the doll.  

There were two large roadblocks- pun intended- on our trip that managed to suck all the fun out of it: 1.) Chucky, and 2.) the cats.  When planning the road trip, we thought towing my car behind his truck would be a good idea because we would have it when arriving in our new home, without the wait or worry associated with shipping, and we'd be able to ride together in one car. We were wrong.  I don't know if anyone is aware of this, but when you Google Map your directions, the estimated time it shows that it will take to get somewhere is calculated under the assumption that you will be driving the speed limit, which is up to 80 miles per hour in some stretches.  When towing a vehicle, you will be lucky if you can get up to 60 miles per hour.  So instead of taking 8-10 hours to get to each of our destinations, it took 12-14.  

The extra time, however, was the least of our worries.  Our sweet, lovable little house cats had never left the comfort of our San Diego condo.  So sticking them in a crate in a car for 12 hours, then letting them out in a strange place turned Tito into a frightened shell of his former self. Mr.Belding was, for the most part, less traumatized, but I managed to fix that a few days into the trip. Luckily, our trip ended in the happiest place on earth (well, before we made it to our new home, which was the last last stop, of course) and it definitely ended better than it started. Mostly.

Bizarre Pet "Tricks"

Tito, pictured, is our loveable little weirdo.  He has a strange habit that I find both amusing and slightly creepy.  He likes to watch me go to the bathroom. Seriously. I like to think he does this not because he's just a perv, but because he heard that girls like to go to the bathroom with their friends, thus meaning he considers me to be his BFF. Which is really sweet. Especially when you consider that means he chose me above his brother, Mr. Belding, and Michael. Yay, me!

Anywho, without delving too much into TMI (or is it a little late for that?), this is how the routine goes:

I walk into the bathroom, and leave the door open a crack.  Hearing this, little Tito comes trotting in behind me and shuts the door fully (so polite, he likes me to have privacy... aside from him). I sit down, and he weaves in and out of my legs lovingly as cats do, waits for me to scratch behind his ears, then jumps on the counter and waits patiently. I do my thing, flush (duh), wash the hands (cleanliness is next to godliness), and open the door. I then say "let's go!" and he jumps down and trots back out.

Tito: crazy or genius? You decide.