Jonathan and I were lucky enough to be invited to a very dear friend's wedding that happened to be taking place in the Dominican Republic in the beginning of May. We accepted, of course, especially since Jonathan was asked to be the Best Man and we couldn't say no to a vacation destination like the DR. As the day of departure for this trip got closer, unfortunately my oldest, best kitty friend began to show signs of decline, due to old age. I was heartbroken, but this moment is inevitable when we're lucky enough to have pets in our lives. Miss Girl gave us the clear sign that she was on her way out of this world three days before we were set to leave. It was so sad, but she had a graceful exit (of course, she did, she was always graceful and very proper), and after having her live with us for 18 years I said my final goodbye to glorious 20 year old Miss Girl. May she R.I.P. I will always love this kitty the most, she was fuzzy, grey and white and very special. Demanding, gorgeous and a wonderful soul. She left behind her 16 yr. old big grey Tiger son, Zeke and we have two other kitties, Mia and Marbles, who didn't like Miss Girl much, but I'll overlook their taste in friends. Frankly, I think they were just jealous, because Miss G was very pretty and though I love Mia and Marbles, they aren't exactly oil paintings. Hey, we all can't be super models. I get it.
So back to the trip. It didn't start off all that well. I was still pretty broken up about saying goodbye to Miss Girl, but we were going to a tropical island after a wretched winter and a bleak spring so I couldn't complain and tried to dry up my tears. The flight to the DR was uneventful, direct from JFK to Punta Cana, DR. On the flight, we had two girls sitting behind us who filled the flight with inane conversation. They proved impossible to ignore. IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE. Beyond dumb. Mind numbing dumb. One of the girls had a panic attack before we landed. I heard her have this convo with a flight attendant:
Flight Attendant: What's going on? Are you okay?
Stupid Girl: I don't know. I feel dizzy.
F.A.: Did you take anything?
S.G.: Yes, I took a valium before we took off.
F.A.: Do you feel sick?
At this point, I want to reach back and slap the Stupid Girl and tell her to strap it on. She's made it this far and she needs to grow a pair. It's a plane flight, for God's sake. Flying is stressful and unnatural. Don't do it if you can't handle it!
S.G.: I feel sick and dizzy. Oh my God, I might be sick!
Now, I want to really slap the Stupid Girl, because I was afraid she was going to barf on me and I'd been listening to her stupid stories for THREE HOURS.
F.A.: You need to calm down. You'll be fine. Sip some water and relax.
Stupid Friend of Stupid Girl: I think you're having a panic attack. I had one once. It was terrible, but I was fine. The airport in the DR is so pretty. It's pink and has a thatched roof. ( really? this is what you tell your friend who is freaking out? But it works, so fuck it. )
Stupid Girl, giggles.
Giggles. Now, I really want to hit her. The Flight Attendant seems to feel the situation has been diffused and moves on as the plane begins it's descent. Well, long story short, we land, there isn't any barfing and we all get off the plane to sort out luggage, etc.
After much ado, Jonathan and I find our luggage, make it through customs and head to find a van that will take us to our hotel. Guess who is sitting in our van? The Two Stupid Girls!! I can't wrap my mind around the fact that we have these two idiots in our van, but I put on a brave face and get into the front seat next to the driver. Off we go. Really? What did I do to deserve this??
The Stupid Girls immediately begin to make conversation with two other idiot American's in the van. It's painful. Annoying. Horrible. I feel badly for Jonathan, who is sitting next to them, but I look out the window from the front seat, like I'm not even in the same car. LA LA LA LA. We drop off the other idiot passengers at their hotel after a 15 minute ride. Bye! Then we drive on. The Stupid Girls attempt to talk to the driver, who says that he doesn't speak English. For a moment, I think this is weird, but then I recall the conversation he's heard from them. It's insulting! These people are horrific. Hmmm. I begin to call upon my high school Spanish. I go through some conjugation, verbs, nouns, etc. So, we drop off the Stupid Girls 10 minutes later at another resort. Bam. Bye, idiots! And head off to our resort. Ahh, it's just Jonathan and I in the van. I get brave and ask the driver how far, in Spanish. The driver is awesome, he answers me very simply, 20 minutes! We chat, in simple Spanish for a few minutes, I feel very chuffed at my my bi-lingual prowess and we finally arrive at our resort, Excellence! To be continued...