Because I travel frequently, I have the (dis)pleasure of seeing all kinds of classless behavior in airports, and let me tell you, Crocs and pajamas are just the start. I often wonder, as I’m making my way through TSA or to my gate or to the boarding line, if I’m the only one who has ever ventured into a public space before.
My best-therapy-practices have always included assuming someone else is the problem, ignoring advice on the first pass, and shoving my muted phone deep into my purse. But then…the lines started to blur.
What’s the big deal with going no contact? Well, for one, it’s dangerous, devastating and, often, unjustified. Beyond that, it’s not healthy. It stunts emotional maturity and growth.
I've become an expert at baiting my no-contact kid into a conversation. My methods? Forwarding mail, paying for college, having a death in the family, etc.
Look, it was my mistake, okay? Still, having hope for my husband’s E.S.P. to come in is fine, as long as I consider that a very loose and unpredictable fallback plan.
"She brought an emotional support toy into the appointment." The price of pets? Worth it.
Did I have any business hiking across a glacier in Alaska? Probably not. Did I live to tell about it? Mostly.
Banana Ball’s season may be short but for a super-fan, seeing every game just takes a little creativity and coordination. Oh, and maybe a few friends who will say “yes” to anything.
I'm off on another adventure! Want to follow along? I mean, why wouldn't you? Join me on the socials under Bearly Home Travel.
Just when I thought all things wholesome had been extinct, I walked into a Banana Ball game and my faith in pure goodness was instantly restored. It was as unexpected as the midgame nod to Magic Mike courtesy of a slew of shirtless firemen dancing on the dugouts midway through the seventh inning. If you … Continue reading Banana Ball (and all its Bliss)
