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The principal & the agent
I’m in week two of my business law and ethics class. I can’t quite grasp the terms from the book as they mean something else in my scope of life. For instance, the chapter I just finished reading is titled Agency Law. There’s lots of talk about the agent and the principal. My brain keeps processing these two terms is CTU Agent Jack Bauer from 24, and my high school principal. Because you know, the principal is your ‘pal’ .
Looking ahead the next chapter is Law and Business Associations, and The Law of Administrative Agencies.
I cannot believe that at one time I thought I’d be a lawyer. This class is soooooooooo stuffy it’s not even funny.
Thursday is Zoe’s very last day of summer day camp. Where did the summer go??? She starts K5 on Tuesday. I can’t believe it. She even gets to take the school bus this year, she’s very excited about that.
My wedding anniversary is coming up on October, it’ll be 10 years. Do you think it would be appropriate to retire our Mikasa dishes at the 10 year mark, and get a new pattern?
First aid
I can’t resist a really long hallway, there is something about long hallways that make me want to do cartwheels down them one after another. Okay, I’m lying, hallways in general make me want to do cartwheels down them, it doesn’t matter if it’s really long.
The Kalahari has two skywalks that we had to walk through in order to get to from our room to the waterpark, or the restaurants. They both were really really really long, and the urge to do cartwheels down them was far too great. On Saturday night I dared my Hubby to do cartwheels down the skywalk, then I did cartwheels, and then it was Zoe’s turn. We still had about half of the skywalk left, so I suggested that the two of them race to the end. Zoe didn’t want to race and suggested the he and I race.
Ready! Set! Go! And we were off!
I had a head start and was running at a pretty good pace, then he came up from behind, passing me just as my flipflop shifted on my foot …. and then it happened. I tripped over my flipflop and did a nose dive right into the carpeting. I was spread eagle, on my face, and laughing my ass off. My husband turned around and said to me, “what are you doing on the floor?”
Uh, I just tripped over my flipflop and fell!!!
In his defense he didn’t see me fall, and thought I had thrown myself on the floor in defeat.
Here is a picture of the damages.
I desperately needed some boo-boo cream, the kind with pain reliever in it.
I stopped by my mom’s room first. No boo-boo cream. Then my sister-in-law’s room. No boo-boo cream.
We got back to our room and I called concierge to ask if they had a first kit, or even some Neosporin at the front desk. She said they did, and then I inquired if I was calling my front desk, versus the big front desk which was at the other end of the resort, where I had just come from. Of coure, I had the big front desk, and she transferred me to my front desk.
Front Desk Guy: Front desk.
Me: Do you have a first aid kit?
FDG: Uh, no.
Me: What about Neosporin?
FDG: No.
Me: Are you sure? The big front desk says you do.
FDG: Huh? I guess I could check.
Then he put me on hold for about five minutes. I finally hung up and called the big front desk again. She assured me that my front desk had Neosporin and that he should let me into the gift shop to purchase it if he couldn’t find it.
So I ventured down to the front desk, where the FDG must have been no more than 20 years old. Good grief. He couldn’t find the Neosporin to save his life! I finally walked straight over to the shelf and pointed to the box that said “Neosporin”.
“Oh, I didn’t see that.”
Ya don’t say.
How is my leg? Well it hurts. I’m wearing a lot of shorts and skirts because I can’t have anything against it, it’s far too painful. Not even a bandaid, not that they make one that is big enough. It’s tough to sleep too. 
Poor me.
Do you think the security cameras got my fall on video tape? What are the odds that the entire Kalahari Resort hasn’t seen me do cartwheels and then race down the skywalk only to trip on my own flipflop and skid to a stop like an idiot?
Saturday
Where was I?
Oh yes, Saturday. On Saturday morning my husband and I both had massage scheduled for 10 a.m. Ahhhh, a massage! I had been waiting for this.
Unfortunately, the massage sucked. The masseuse did not even ask me if he should pay special attention to certain areas, if the temperature was good in the room, was the music too soft, too loud, or if I liked the pressure, or anything! In fact, the only time acknowledged me was when I told him he could use more pressure on my back, but then when he did it was too much and I said “that’s too much”, and he didn’t let up. In fact I think he pressed harder. What the hell was that about?
For the record, the massages were $90 for 50 minutes, and that’s a pretty pricey massage. I expect to be getting the best service for that kind of moolah. I got a bland, generic massage. I gave it a 4 on a scale of 1-10. When the massage was over he told me there was a towel on the counter for me to use (because quite honestly, I was dripping with massage oil). I found that there also was a tip envelope propped up on the towel. Oh really, a tip???? After that? Would you have tipped him?
While we were having massages, my brother and his wife were at a golf event. There was a shuttle that was to take the golfers to the golf course, and it was scheduled to leave the hotel at 8:15 a.m. Tee time was 9:00 a.m. My brother and his wife arrived at the shuttle area prior to this time, only to find that the shuttle had left without them. The other golfers told the driver that there were 2 more people coming, but the driver refused to wait, and insisted upon leaving early. So they had no choice but to drive to the course themselves.
I can tell, you are getting ready to book your vacations there already, aren’t you? Well go right ahead, but be warned that the idiot at the front desk might not know where the first aid kit is.
First aid kit?????
Yes, first aid kit. But this post is too long already so …….. this will have to be continued……
The nightmare continues
We got settled in our room finally and quickly noticed that we had about 30 minutest to make it to the social for my work association, which is why we were all at The Kalahari in the first place. They were serving drinks and hors d’oervres, so we all ate a little bit at the social, then Zoe was BEGGING to go to the waterpark so we that’s what we did. At 10 p.m. we finally had Zoe in her pj’s and into bed. She had refused eating anything at the social because the chicken fingers were mostly overdone breaded breading. If you were lucky you got one with some meat in there …. and she wasn’t. She’s a one shot gal when it comes to her food. Either she likes it and wants more, or she doesn’t and you’ll never get her to look at it again. My mom finally got a bowl of Apple Jacks down her at 9:30 p.m. (Thank God for mom’s!)
My husband and I started flipping through the room service menu, it was 10:09 p.m. and the menu said they served until 10:30 p.m. There was also a late-night menu that served until 11:30 p.m. We agreed on a pizza and two glasses of pinot noir. I called room service….
Me: I’d like to order a pizza.
Room Service: We aren’t making pizzas anymore.
Me: The menu says you serve them until 10:30 p.m., it’s 10:09.
RS: We usually stop making them around 9:30.
Me: What???
RS: Let me double check.
Yeah, you do that. And if you come back and tell me that I can’t order a pizza because the menu closes in 21 more minutes I’m going to come down there and bite your head off!!!!
He came back and told me “we’re good to to go!” I’m not sure if I dreamed up the conversation I’d just had or what, but he acted like it had never happened. He took my order, read it back, and then told me it would be 45 minutes. I can understand the 45 minute wait, I mean, I think the resort has something like 4000 rooms, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one calling in a pizza at 10:09 p.m.
The pizza arrived 1 hour and 15 minutes later ….. it was cold, and it was wrong. We were exhausted and starving so we ate in anyways.
Then we shut off the lights to go to bed.
Bright white light on the ceiling *BLINK BLINK*.
My husband: What the hell was that?
Me: Was that a strobe light?
Every 10 seconds a white light from the smoke detectors/sprinkler system blinked on and off. It wasn’t enough to light up the entire room, but it was enough to notice if you were laying face up on your bed with your eyes closed. Which I had to do because the bed was so soft that if I layed on my side or my tummy my body would invert to an odd angle. I tossed and turned the entire night.
Oh yeah ….. there’s more. I’m not even to Saturday yet …..
Nightmares from a water resort
I’ve never had such poor service in my life from a hotel, let alone from a highly regarded resort and waterpark like The Kalahari.
The chick at the front desk had a total attitude, and when I checked in she gave me keys to a room that was already occupied. Thank God the room was occupied by my brother and his family! Can you imagine how embarrassing it would have been to walk in on some stranger???? I went back down to the front desk to tell the Attitude Chick that she had made an error and given me the keys to my brother’s room, which is when she told me that it was all my fault. Huh? I’m still having problems seeing how that could be, but whatever. My brother’s keys stopped working at that point, and he had to come back down to the lobby to have them rekeyed. Then they didn’t give either of us (my brother nor I) the charging privileges cards that my mom had left for us at the front desk, so my mom and I went down to the front desk where Attitude Chick said there was nothing for us, and she didn’t know what happened to the cards …. “I just got here”. I wanted to scream.
To be continued……
Water park, here I come …. via the ferry
Tomorrow afternoon begins a weekend getaway to a waterpark in the Wisconsin Dells. I can’t wait! We are going with an association through work, so it’s business related, which means the company pays for it! That’s the best kind of weekend getaway that I can imagine!
I haven’t been to The Dells since I was a kid, well, that’s not exactly true. We drove through The Dells once on the way home from Minneapolis, but that doesn’t count as we were trying to avoid Dells traffic on I-94 and had to find a back road. The back road turned out to be quite the adventure. We ended up on Hwy 12, and then turned onto some other road in Baraboo. I’m in the backseat, looking at the map, when I noticed that there was a ferry coming up ahead in Merrimac. A ferry? In the middle-of-nowhere, Wisconsin? No offense to those who live in nowhere, Wisconsin, but the last ferry I was on took me from Cape Cod to Martha’s Vineyard and it was way more obvious to me that I’d be needing to take a ferry to get there when I arrived in Cape Cod.
We turned the corner, and pulled the car into the line to take the ferry across the Wisconsin River. There was a small wait, which made it possible for us to get out of the car and visit the ice cream stand that is conveniently located right next to the dock. The ferry ride was all of about 7 minutes long. It was so much fun, that now when we are in the area between Madison and The Dells, we get off of I-94, and take the familiar route to the Merrimac ferry, where we get our ice cream, take the ferry across the river, and then continue on our way.
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