I’ve never liked spiders. I’m convinced that every spider has some sort of extraordinary jumping ability which it will uleash if I try to squash it, launching itself at my face where it will crawl over my nose.

Somehow the image of having a spider crawling on my nose freaks me out like you wouldn’t believe.

On the other hand, when someone says, ‘Oh my God, stand still there’s an enormous spider on your back’ I don’t freak out. I stand still.

Do you think that means that I have no ‘flight’ reflex?

But then the day I was walking in the park and some crazy guy threw a bike at me I was very flighty. And whenever I see creepy George from the dog park the only thought that enters my mind is ‘dear God I have to run’.

Recently I’ve been having dreams about spiders a lot but they’re not scary dreams (aka nightmares). They’re actually rather soothing dreams and some of the only dreams I atually remember when I wake up.

So either (1) subconciously I actually have a great afinitiy towards spiders, (2) the spiders have gotten into my brain and are trying to lull me into a false sense of security, or (3) I was bitten my a radioactive spider in Antigua and am morphing into spider girl. If it’s (3) I promise I’ll tell you all.

I’ve just been busy - the good kind of busy.

The house is full of guests kind of busy.

The finally back in the office kind of busy.

The getting ready for Christmas kind of busy.

All my favorite kinds of busy rolled up into one…life is good.

Except that the hot tub has this strange fog and I can’t get rid of it no matter how much clarrifier or chlorine I put in. I mean it’s not like the fog is stopping me from using the hot tub. But it is stopping me from seeing my toes as I lounge and I like looking at my toes because they’re really gimp - I’m talking seriously ugly here. But my calves are rather nice (if I do say so myself). I really like the juxtaposition of lovely and gimp. It reminds me of life.

That’s the kind of thing I think about in the hot tub.

Oh, by the way, we have a pine tree / shrub in the back that has little red berries. Does anyone know what kind of tree it is?

Ok, so I’m almost half way through my four hour stop over in San Juan Puerto Rico (still trying to figure out if people here speak English or Spanish) anyhow, when my boss and I got here we asked American Airlines where the lounge is. They said that the lounge is for members only and very sorry but even though we paid a whole hell of a lot for our tickets we cannot go into the lounge (where you still have to pay if you want a scrappy little sandwich).

Anyway (and appologies, this story seems to be taking a long time to tell itself) I said to my boss, ‘I think I’m going to go and see if I can get in anyway.’ and my boss said, ‘I’m just going to wait here for the flight.’

Ok, so off I went. I get to the lounge and hand over my ticket at the registration desk as if I have every right to be here (expensive ticket and all) or at least I act as if I haven’t just been told straight up that I don’t have any right to be here.

The woman at the registration desk informs me that since I am travelling domestically (Puerto Rico being either an English-speaking or a Spanish-speaking territory of the US) I don’t actually have access to the lounge.

BUT

She decided to make an exception since I had flown to Antigua on British Airways a week ago…as long as I don’t tell anybody.

So there’s my boss sitting in the uncomfortable seats by the gate and here I am typing away in a very nice corner of the lounge (without a crappy sandwich cause I am not paying six dollars for a soggy croisant when I have a perfectly good smooshed granola bar in my bag) and I’m feeling this terrible sense of guilt.

Part of me thinks I should go and give my boss the heads up that the lounge lady can be persuaded to make exceptions.

Another part of me is afraid that if I leave I won’t be let back in again. And besides my boss didn’t fly on British Airways a week ago. And besides again, he did choose to stay behind while I tried my luck. And besides one final time, he did ask me to change my Christmas vacation which was not at all nice to do.

So here I am, and he’s out there and I am officialy a lounge hog. 

People of Antigua have two very, very strange habits (in addition to praying at the start of business meetings that is). The first is a somewhat bizzare obsession with fingernails. The longer the better. The more brightly painted the better. In fact yesterday a colleague jealously told me about a lady she knows who has finger nails on her left hand that are so long that they actually curl completely under.

Ew gross.

The second strange habit is a seemingly uncontrolable desire to finish each others sentences. I have noticed this predominately among the men and it makes conversations very interesting.

Have you ever sung along to a song that you don’t quite know all the words to? Same idea, the first half of the word is mumbled, the last half is blurted out at three times the normal speed (they have to beat you to finish after all). I would say that about 60% of the time the blurted part is right. The rest of the time I really have a hard time supressing a giggle.

What I’ve learned about all inclusive resorts:

1. There are actually people who add rum to their drink at 10 am

2. Nobody goes to an all inclusive resort alone (which results in the most depressing expressions of sympathy when I make a dinner reservation for one)

3. It is possible to put on five pounds in two days, all you need is three buffet meals each day with (i) a gallon jug of syrup served with the pancakes at breakfast (ii) a larger dessert section than salad bar at lunch and (iii) creamy sauces on every dish at dinner

4. It is really depressing to work ten hour days surrounded by people on vacation.