pictures say it all!

Instead of more words, we are going to share this part of the story in images. A picture really does say a thousand words . . . 

Duty Free Shopping?

Finally, a light at the end of the tunnel

You guessed it . . . we have arrived!

Not our best look,  but who cares, we're in Mexico!

Need I say more?

The view from our veranda

We have finally made it . . . after more than 24 hours of travel . . . we have made it to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. How did we manage this view? Wait till you see our upgraded accommodations and you won't believe how we ended up with them. What about our honorary traveler, Anne? Where is she and when will she join us? And, we have a birthday to celebrate; Samantha turned 49 the day we arrived! Stay tuned because there's a lot more to follow. The FUN is just beginning!

To be continued . . . 

the airport shuttle to the airport . . . what?

It is funny how re-telling this story is much more fun than living it realtime. Don't get me wrong, we were all making the best of a ridiculous situation! Even as it was happening we were starting to laugh about it, sort of . . .

Once we found the shuttle desk, thanks to Captain Ernie, we waited to get on a bus to travel to Bush International. Because I'm the seasoned traveler of the group and have flown into and out of Houston many, many times, I knew that Bush was the only airport that flies internationally. (I'm actually laughing at myself . . . seasoned traveler . . . PLEASE!) In case you were wondering, this inexpensive little adventure is changing rapidly. Nothing, from here on out, ends up being inexpensive.

Enter, Nancy Broadway . . . I truly wish I had a picture of Nancy. My goodness, we have a picture of just about everything and everyone else. I digress . . . Nancy Broadway was in charge of our shuttle. I put it that way because she usually is the driver, but tonight, she was training Susan. Tonight, we were guinea pigs. Not only did Susan not know a lot about the airport transit system or what was expected of her, but surprisingly, she didn't know her way around. Houston is HUGE. It is probably close to 3 hours in diameter. (ever notice how you ask a woman how far something is, she gives you the length of time it takes to get there; a man on the other hand will give you the exact mileage . . . like who scored the winning touchdown in the 1981 Superbowl, and what the final score was . . . they know, they actually know those stats) Anyway, Miss Susan was having a very difficult time with her sense of direction, in her hometown, not to mention her questionable ability to steer this bus on the highway. Again, can you imagine? 

Nancy Broadway, however, was an angel. She overheard our mixed grumbling and giggling in the back of the bus and offered up her assistance. She called a few hotels around Bush International, asked which one we would prefer, asked the chosen site to hold a room and be on the lookout for us (like that would be very hard . . . still in matching attire and not nearly as cute as we had been several hours earlier) Nancy was a total stranger. There was nothing in it for her. She just saw a need and addressed it. What great customer service! Thankfully, we arrived at the hotel, unharmed and grateful to be settling somewhere for the night. (in our 20's, we could have gone for days without sleep, sustenance, a change of clothes; now, we each just wanted a glass of wine and a bed . . . it wasn't even 10:00)


At this point in the day, we were so "slap-happy" that anything would have been funny. We were starving, wanted wine and were ready for bed, almost in that order. Luckily, the restaurant saw our matching outfits, listened to the Readers Digest version of our story, and decided to serve us even though they were suppose to be closing. (Are you noticing the subtle trend we seem to be setting? Total strangers, not only being kind and generous, but going out of their way to help US! It's a beautiful thing.) We sit down, order and enjoy. I think Samantha and Charlotte would absolutely agree that it wasn't until we were eating and laughing and drinking our wine, that we realized it really didn't matter that we weren't in Cabo. We were in Houston Texas, with a waiter named Qui (forget about the pronunciation), looking at a cowboy with two hats and celebrating our new time of departure to Mexico . . . We were able to book three new tickets for the next morning, from the same piece of technology that had burst our earlier travel bubble, while riding in a shuttle bus from one airport to another, in one of the largest cities in the United States . . . things were definitely looking up!

Yes, that is 2 cowboy hats! 

To be continued . . . 

"the captain would like to buy those for ya . . ."

Before I get ahead of myself and our story, I want to remind anyone not familiar with following BLOGS, that the most current "post" is always at the top. So, if you are just finding out about too funny, you may want to go back to in the beginning, literally, or you will be lost and this won't be too funny! Just a little Group Therapy housekeeping . . .

Okay, so we are RUNNING through the airport concourse, trying not to miss this ALL important flight to Houston. It is getting pretty late in the day, and looking like we won't be waking up in Cabo San Lucas the next morning. Keep in mind, I have just spent the last hour and 25 minutes, having one of the biggest pity parties I have ever thrown for myself, squeezed in between two unsuspecting females, enjoying a perfectly normal flight to Dallas. I'm fighting back the tears,  mumbling to myself about how miserable I am and how could I have been sooooo stupid??? It was the longest flight I can ever remember taking. I never uttered a word to either of my row buddies. I just closed my eyes and prayed that Samantha and Charlotte weren't as upset with me as I was!

Fast forward again, to the plane touching down, gathering our carry-ons and rushing up the jetway to head to our next gate, only to find we are late (remember the departure delay) and the next flight is about to take off. As you probably would suspect, the same two heroes in Birmingham were there to support me and assure me that this trip was never about the destination, it was always about the journey and the three of us experiencing it together. (See why they are life-long friends?) So arm-in-arm we RUN.

As we approach the gate, out of breath, having hot flashes, stressed beyond belief, we are stopped by a very friendly man in a white uniform. Before he asks for our boarding passes, he takes a mental snapshot of the three of us and says, "Group Therapy? What is group therapy?" I am in no mood to be friendly or polite or communicative  to anyone, especially not the guy taking up our boarding passes. All I want to do is GET ON THE PLANE. Charlotte, sweet Charlotte is the first to speak. Out of breath she tells him that he wouldn't believe where we had been and what had happened to us and then Samantha chimes in that our travel agent had messed our tickets up and we were supposed to be going to Mexico, but instead were routed to San Jose California . . . I couldn't take another word . . . I bullied right up in front and said, "No sir, I'm the idiot travel agent she is referring to and I'm not really a travel agent anyway and I screwed this whole trip up and we just need to get to Houston to try to get to Mexico and this was supposed to be a birthday celebration for our 50th birthdays and . . . I took a breath and he just smiled and said, "I've heard."

He heard?

Once we went to the very back of the plane, because there were very few seats available, and everyone looked at us like we were holding them up, because, of course, we were, we sat down, me in the middle and took one collective deep breath! (in that ridiculously long, run-on sentence - sorry Melinda - I forgot to add that we insisted that a young woman give up her seat so we could sit together . . . not winning any friends on this flight!)

As we prepared to take off, I started to feel some of the stress evaporate. My main worry was for my friends. If they were okay, I was okay. Once we were in the air, the flight attendant came all the way down the aisle to ask if we wanted anything to drink. We didn't notice that she didn't ask anyone else on her way to the back of the plane. Again, we let out a collective YES . . . we had been thinking about our first drink on the first leg of our adventure for months. This inaugural drink would signify the start of our trip! Only, this wasn't the first leg of our trip and we had no idea, at this point, when or if we would actually make it to Cabo San Lucas. But for now, this was going to be the best tasting adult beverage we could have! After placing the order, which I, the travel agent blurted out for the three of us, the flight attendant simply said, "and the captain would like to buy those for ya!" The captain?

As you may have guessed by now, the friendly fellow who took up our boarding passes was the Captain. I suppose that the group in Birmingham felt sorry enough for our plight, to phone ahead to Dallas and prepare them for the three, 50 year old women, in matching get-ups, on their way to Mexico. They knew what I hadn't known when booking the original tickets . . . Southwest doesn't fly to Mexico! Captain Ernie greeted us when we landed for a photo op and even escorted us through Hobby airport in Houston to find the shuttle that would take us to Bush International airport in Houston, so we could hopefully catch a flight to San Jose del Cabo the next morning. Can you imagine? 


(One more disclaimer: Only one of us was 50 that day. One of us was about to celebrate her 49th birthday the following day and the other one would turn 50 the following month. So when I refer to all of us being 50, just go with the flow.)

To be continued . . . 

Group Therapy & Captain Ernie with sweet flight attendant 

San Jose California?

Can you imagine? Close your eyes for a moment and see yourself at the airport, with your two life-long friends, dressed alike, and you are looking at this! If this had been a reality TV show they would have had to go to commercial. I can not fully describe the level of anxiety that I felt. These two dear friends had entrusted me with this adventure. Oh my God (sorry Lord, gosh just wouldn't come close) what had I done? Me . . . miss travel all the time, miss "oh I'll take care of everything" . . . ME!!! I swear I almost started hyperventilating. I just sat there shaking my head, like that simple gesture would make that little plane icon turn south and head in the right direction. Both of these dear friends are obviously experiencing this situation from a very different point of view, (I'll get to that a little later) but they were absolute heroes to me. While I am wallowing in self deprecation, Charlotte says, "I'll go see what our options are," while Samantha just sat next to me saying. "it's all going to work out . . . so what if we don't get there tonight, we will get there, we just have to find another way . . . " Oh my God, for the second time (Sorry Lord!) I can't believe this is happening.

Fast forward to our making our way onto another plane, one scheduled to land in Houston, after first dropping off several folks in Dallas. I know, at least we were headed west! What did I skip: iPad searches for last minute flights, beseeching the airline personnel to bend rules, wave fees and basically take pity on us in our matching shirts and pants and shoes. (yes, that is right . . . everything matching except our underware. I was the only one not wearing our signature flip-flops because my pants were too long and I needed a little lift in my shoe. Other than that, we were cookie cutter as cookie cutter could be.) I must admit that as much of a control freak that I can be, my two dear companions rose to the occasion and took over . . . I, after all, who had nothing left to contribute, felt so incredibly bad and responsible that I was quite frankly, ready to go back home. Both Samantha and Charlotte said NO, we are NOT going home . . . we are going to Cabo . . . it may take a few days to get there, but we are going to paradise, period!

Who could argue with that logic? Not me. By the way, my screen name is Carrie in case you were wondering. So we boarded the flight to Houston, after the airline representative practically went to retrieve our heavy bags herself, and began this adventure that certainly wasn't starting out like we had dreamed or planned. Guess how many seats were left on the flight, 3; we couldn't sit together, but we did get to Dallas. Our flight landed late due to a departure delay from Birmingham (wonder why that happened). Once we deplaned, we had to RUN to make our connecting flight to Houston. Picture us running, in our matching Group Therapy t-shirts, through the Dallas airport. We did make it . . . to the gate that is!

To be continued . . .

PS - Take a look at this picture, in case you were wondering just how far off our planned route we were. Cabo San Lucas is at the very tip of the Baha Peninsula, at the bottom of the picture. As we were weighing our options when we first discovered the mistake, I think one of us thought we could rent a car and drive from San Jose, CA . . . NOT! (I think that was probably another one of my ideas)

in the beginning . . .

What is funny to me (us) may not be funny to you, so let this be a lesson . . . call it the too funny disclaimer . . . there are absolutely no guarantees to follow; just like beauty is in the eye of the beholder, humor either is or isn't in the heart of the recipient. Some folks laugh at just about anything while others practically have to have an engraved invitation to crack a smile. I suppose we are somewhere in the middle. (we being group therapy) As you will see, I will also be we, not because I have multiple personalities but because I am the voice for our club. I will consult with our members from time to time to insure every one's voice is heard, but for the most part, I will be flying solo.

Let's get back to this notion of what is funny to some is not funny to others. Funny is a pretty broad category if you think about it. Funny can mean hysterical, side-aching, belly-laughing, tear inducing, wet your pants, can't hardly breathe funny. Funny can also mean enjoyable or amusing, entertaining or smile provoking. We want this BLOG to be "too" funny!

I have a dear friend, not quite old enough for Group Therapy, but will certainly be welcomed once she is age eligible, who is a gifted, published writer of extremely humorous works. Her BLOG is at the top of our list of favorites. (check out her link under My Blog List: SWAG: Southern Women Aging Gracefully) Her humor is completely derived from her life. It is real and easy to associate with and we celebrate her.

Now, for too funny: let us know what you think by posting comments. We may need a little time to become established. Just like a fine wine that needs to age, we may also need time to grow and mature in our technique. Follow us, tell your friends to follow us, become a member of Group Therapy and laugh at life with us. Here's our first chapter . . .

Life-long friends

I am blessed to have many people I consider friends. But I only have two people who are life-long friends. I have know both of these girls since we were 9 and 10. I still think of them as girls because in my heart, we always will be. They know everything about me that is truly significant. We don't talk every day, but they are part of who I am every day. We make up the founding membership of the Group Therapy club. (There is also an honorary founding member who has been 50 for almost 20 years. She would have been one of my life-long friends had she been born in 1961 instead of 1941.)

One of the funniest stories we will ever share is the time we traveled to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. It was a trip that had been planned and dreamed about for years. Not so much the final destination, but the trip itself. 

[As an aside, from now on, I will refer to us by our screen names. They are not original and it won't take the educated reader long to see where we stole them from. We aren't necessarily trying to embody the characters associated with these famous names; instead, we just thought it would be too funny to try them on for size and live life large, if only for 7 days!]

My life-long friends, Samantha and Charlotte, trusted me with most of the planning and execution of this adventure we wanted to experience. We all work, but I work from home so I have a little more flexibility from day to day. Plus, I can be a bit of a control freak so I assumed the role happily. Once our destination was chosen, I set about the task of scheduling flights. I'm no novice when it comes to travel. These tickets were secured 2 months before the departure date. Because this trip was intended to be a celebration for Group Therapy and turning 50, my sweet father offered to pay for the flights. Because I booked so far in advance, I thought the tickets were very reasonable. I was so proud to think that this trip was going to be fabulous but relatively inexpensive for us. We were using my time-share, which meant the total price, for our room, was $169 for the entire week. The tickets were a gift, so all we had to pay for was food and drink and whatever we wanted to splurge on while in Mexico.

The day finally came. It was Saturday and both Samantha and Charlotte arrived at my house, as planned, to head to the airport. Photos were taken to begin to chronicle our adventure. We sipped on Cosmos on the way to the airport, in our matching attire. Once we arrived we were sure to attract attention. We were on our way to paradise and we didn't care who knew it!

Group Therapy

It is also important to mention that our honorary club member went along for the ride, but not in the traditional sense of the word. Just suffice to say she had a wonderful time, didn't need a suitcase or a passport  and her name isn't Miranda.

Flat Anne (no relation to Flat Stanley)

Okay, where was I . . . oh yes, arriving at the airport. We made a splash from the moment we stepped out of the car. After checking our heavy bags, we made it through security without a hitch. As we were making our way to the gate, we only had two pressing items to contend with: should we have another Cosmo or switch to beer? We wanted to pace ourselves and still had several hours till we touched down in Cabo. We all agreed that landing drunk in a foreign country wasn't smart. So, beer it would be!

We found our gate and relaxed, knowing that in one hour we would be boarding our flight and headed to this much awaited, much anticipated and of course, much deserved get-away! Charlotte was about to go buy three beers when Samantha said, "How long will we be in Las Vegas?" None of us had been to Las Vegas and we had already talked about getting our picture made with something indicative of Vegas while waiting for our connection. I pulled out my iPad to use a new App I just had to show off and plugged in our flight numbers from my boarding pass. As the App came to life I saw the little plane icon on the screen fly straight across the United States and veer north, not south. (This APP is designed to let you visualize the route of your flight and give vital information about connection times, airports, etc.) Our itinerary was set to fly to Nashville first, then to Las Vegas and on to Cabo San Lucas. So why was the little plane flying to California not Mexico? I asked Samantha to look at her boarding pass to confirm the flight number from Nashville to Las Vegas. Maybe I had entered the wrong numbers? After careful comparison, we realized that we were all three scheduled to land in San Jose California, not Mexico. My first thought was, no freaking way! There was absolutely NO WAY, I, the seasoned traveler, could have booked our flights to California. Several hysterical, surreal moments passed, only to be followed by the sobering realization that we were indeed, booked to land at the airport known as San Jose California or SJC and not San Jose del Cabo or SJD. What a rookie mistake! What a nightmare!! What do we do??? 

To be continued . . .