Recommended wine for today’s entry: Today I’m going to recommend a Mexican wine because I’ve successfully booked a cruise that stops in Cozumel for spring break! I’ll try Santo Tomas chardonnay, which is described at http://mexicanwines.homestead.com/files/Santo_Thomas_Whites.pdf as “Pale yellow with a lemony Mr. Clean sort of aroma. Citrus-y flavors with plenty of lime make this chard a little confusing. Aged in oak, but no detectable oakiness. A nice enough wine, but it could easily be mistaken for a sauvignon blanc.” Not sure about the Mr. Clean description … but something light on the cruise ship sounds delightful!
There is a little man who lives in my computer. He knows my name and my phone number, and he seems to know every little move my pointer finger makes.
I lost him for awhile. But he’s back.
His name is Armando and he’s creeping me out. I am considering testing to see whether he can see what moves I make with my middle finger, if you know what I mean.
I hope he never shows up my door, because he is driving me crazy and I’m afraid that I’ll do something rash if he does.
I am currently planning a couple trips. As you may know, planning anything makes me grumpy. I hate to plan. This is why I end up at the grocery every single day. And why we’re always out of dog food. It’s also why there’s a driveway on the highway near my house that I’ve designated the “turn around and go back for what I’ve forgotten” driveway.
I hate trip planning the most. I like going on trips, don’t get me wrong — I just like to wait for someone else to plan it. That way, if the trip sucks, it wasn’t my fault. Or I don’t mind “flying by the seat of my pants” … well, that hasn’t always worked out too well for me. Especially the spring break trip where four girls slept in Diana Cooke’s Camaro for a week. Well, except for the night we locked the keys in the trunk of the “condo.” At least it was usually parked in Ft. Lauderdale.
I guess since I’m skidding rapidly toward …fif…fift…being mature, sleeping in the car for spring break is probably out.
I actually think that it’s worse with the advent of the Internet. Too many choices. Too many opinions and forums. Too much advice.
Too many ways for my husband to find out that I didn’t use all the available information and just paid full price for a mediocre place that multiple people totally advised against in multiple chat rooms.
It makes me very, very grumpy. Bordering on bitchy.
I got mad at my computer, because everytime I looked at cruise prices, they’d gone up. So I slammed my computer shut to show it a little of who’s boss.
I think that’s what woke Armando up.
“Hello,” my answering machine said in Ricardo Montalban’s voice. “This is Armando, your personal vacation planner at …” He was super sorry he couldn’t reach me, because it just so happened he had a cruise that was just perfect for me.
Actually, he works for a cruise line that I’ve traveled with before. And because I have had some … er… problems with Armando calling me repeatedly, I have purposely used EVERY Web site to look at available cruises EXCEPT the one for which Armando is my personal vacation planner.
The closest I may have come — and I swear this is the truth — is to inadvertently click on one of their ship’s names on icruise, which linked me to a page showing the boat’s amenities. I was out of it within 30 seconds. The phone rang less than three minutes later.
After lamenting the fact that he missed me on the phone, he immediately sent me an e-mail. The subject was “UNABLE TO REACH YOU.” It was like I hit their Web site and awakened the sleeping genie, who had just been lurking, waiting, watching, then KAPOW!
“I see you’re planning a cruise.” N-O-O-O-O-O….not again!
Now I respect a good salesperson. Armando, however, is a stalker. This wouldn’t be a problem if Armando hadn’t begun calling me exactly a week after my last cruise ended — two years ago — and made contact with me about planning another cruise at LEAST once a month. I was sure that I had finally been stricken from his list, after a series of shakeoffs that began with something like, “Don’t call me, I’ll call you,” and ended with something about me finding his house at night and holding a pillow over his face.
But Armando seems to have the last laugh. If anyone could find someone’s house at night, I believe it would be him.
I think this is the job description:
“As a personal vacation planner, you will be required to stare intently at your computer screen for a RED ALERT situation. The alert will be given when any of your clients — a select group of past travelers — clicks on the cruise line’s Web site. This is where the rubber meets the road. With every second counting, you will be expected to maintain your composure and make IMMEDIATE contact with your client. All methods of communication should be employed. To succeed as a personal vacation planner, you should have an undergraduate degree in communications and a master’s degree in annoyance techniques. Candidates with criminal records including stalking and former military who are willing to be airlifted into clients’ backyards in the dead of night will be considered for management training.
Lucky me. He’s got my number.