Two or Three Tickets to Paradise

Heard yesterday morning at my house...

Me (singing): ...Cheeseburger in Paradise. Pack your bags we'll leave tonight...
Lauren: Are those the words to a real song?
Me: It's a real song, but I have momentarily forgotten the real words. Oh yes. (singing) Three tickets to paradise. Pack your bags we'll leave tonight...
Lauren: Why THREE?
Me: Hmm. It must be two.

It is, btw.

Have I commented on here yet about Mel Gibson? The guy is an out of control, racist, chauvinistic whack job who can't ever keep his anger in check. I agree his girlfriend is a piece of work, but holy freakout, Batman.

You know what we forgot to do at the reunion that they have always done in the past? A GROUP PHOTO. Huge duh. The only other complaint anyone has had is that it was so casual that we didn't even have anyone say a few words to the group, or establish who came the farthest, etc. Ahh well. Next time.

HGTV asked on Facebook yesterday, "If money were no object and you could own a second home, where would it be?" Most people probably have an immediate answer, but I sat and thought about all the practicalities and pros and cons of living here and there. I mean really, if we're going to ponder, let's be serious about it.

In the end, I choose Hawaii. It's removed enough that you get that ironically glorious "small" feeling like when you're on a ship in the middle of the ocean. But it's not incredibly removed, like Fiji, where you have the whole "Can you hear me now?" thing with your cell phone. It's a relaxed culture and lifestyle. And speaking of tickets to Paradise, y'all can come visit any time and stay as long as you like, because if money is no object, that sucker will be at least 8,000 square feet, right on the beach.