The trip to Florida. . . It was a trip.  We were taken to the airport just before ten am by good friends, which put us just in time to catch our 12:50 flight.  Awesome.  We fretted and fidgeted, waiting for Nikolai’s parents to show up with the three kids – our nephews and niece.  They showed, we rattled through checking our bags, and the blood pressure spikes started.  Four adults and three kids clambered through security.  One kid talked himself through the fear of getting “caught” or selected for a random pat down.  I saw a lady getting swiped down.  I’m pretty sure I’d be sobbing uncontrollably if I got touched like that by a stranger, ran through my mind.
We flew for about seven hours, maybe eight if the two flights are added up.  I don’t fly that long very well.  I read through books, sipped my juice and ginger ale, ate my airline peanuts, and devolved into a very snappish version of myself.  Nikolai just looked at me funny.  There was drama with the rental car, the directions, stopping the kids from wandering into airport traffic, and wrangling nine suitcases for seven people, as well as sundry carry-ons.
The fun part of the trip, besides the water parks where Nikolai and I got to go down rides together where he laughed more and my squeals and occasional cursing than at the exhilaration of the ride, was walking down to the food area to obtain coffee one morning in my not-pretty hair and puffy eyes towing my little niece only to recognize someone eating breakfast at the outdoor cafe`.  To be specific, I saw an entire family, two sons of which attended high school with me.  IN OREGON WHICH IS NOT FLORIDA NOR IS IT ANYWHERE CLOSE.
Not only were they in the same  state as me, on the wrong side as the country of our previous association, the same week, they were somehow at the exact same Disney resort.  What do you think of that?  Because I think it’s weird.