Shoeless Ashley, the Foot Fashion Slave

I know what you're thinking; Who in their right mind would actually post a picture of their feet on their own blog? I took this picture when I was in Washington, DC last week after I had pretty much walked throughout the entire city barefoot. For those of you familiar with the lay-out of the sightseeing tour, I started at the White House and by the time I got to the Washington Memorial (the first stop of the monuments), my shoes were already off. The reason: I had lunch beforehand with a friend I hadn't seen in about four years, so I wore my "cute" shoes. Apparently, I dismissed the fact that following lunch I would be walking around to tour the city.

But Ashley, why oh why, didn't you wear better shoes for walking? Because. Because I am a slave to fashion. Because, yes, I am one of those girls who likes her cute shoes and would much rather get blisters all over her feet than be seen in tennis shoes for a lunch date. Because I forgot to bring my walking shoes to change into after lunch, okay? Because my mom always told me that I should be a foot model (based purely off the fact that my feet are size 6 and hers 8 1/2). Because if someone thinks my feet are worthy of modeling, I'm going to show them off and let them be cute! This might also be why I currently have 53 pairs of shoes in my closet. And why the second toe on my right foot dons the longest running piece of jewelry I've ever worn without removing: a 24-carat gold fitted toe ring. Because look at these shoes and tell me they're not adorable!
The irony about that day was that I couldn't bring myself to stand barefoot in front of the memorials. It felt slightly disrespectful to stand in front of almighty Mr. Lincoln sans shoes. So, I spent the afternoon taking my shoes on and off between monuments. Something put it in perspective for me when I walked along the Vietnam wall reading the names of all the men who shed blood for our country, yet I was unwilling to shed blood from the already formed blisters on my feet. I just hope President Lincoln appreciated the fact that my white thong wedge sandals coordinated so nicely with the white v-strap on my shirt that wrapped around my neck. That didn't happen by accident!

Please note: I did spot a CVS Pharmacy mid-touring, where I stopped to buy some $4 flip flops (which by the way, were cute AND comfortable)!

"No Carry-On Liquids" is the LEAST of my Problems

I've done quite a bit of traveling in the past year. You'd think that by the number of flights I've taken, there would be at least a couple of glitch free rides...but you'd be wrong. I seem to not be able to take a simple getaway without some excitement along the way. Let me give you just a few examples of what flights have been like for me this past year.

• Last fall I had a lay-over in Milwaukee on a flight to Boston. After twiddling my thumbs for two hours waiting at the gate for my next flight to board, I looked up to see that the gate I was waiting at was actually a flight going to Memphis. By the time I figured out my gate had moved, I raced to the correct one...only to find my plane pulling away from the jetway. Which left me in Milwaukee for another four hours until I could get on the next flight to Boston. Lesson learned: Always check to make sure the gate has not changed from what is listed on your boarding pass.
  
• Last winter I flew into Newark, got in about midnight and picked up my one piece of checked luggage. I ignored a couple of calls from unfamiliar numbers that I got in the carride back from the airport since it was so late and had no idea who would be calling me at that time. When I got to where I was staying at about 1am, I opened up my luggage only to find that it WASN'T MINE! Yep, someone else had the exact same bag as mine, packed to the exact same fullness as mine...and I picked up that one instead of my own. The call on my cell phone was from the owner of the bag who saw mine going around the carousel and figured I had picked up his. It made for a fun second day of my trip returning the bag to the owner at his home, in a city I was unfamiliar with, and driving back to the airport to reclaim mine. Lesson learned: Always check the nametag on your luggage and put your cell phone on your luggage...it's a life saver!
  
• Last week, I had a lay-over in Atlanta on my way to Washington DC. I had made my connecting flight and I had only carry-on luggage (this was the night before the no liquids on carry-ons came into effect). What could go wrong? We were boarded the plane, sitting in the rain, and just about ready to take off, when suddenly there was a huge crash. The plane went black and shut-down. Lights out, air out, engine out. Struck by lightning. Struck by lightning! Delayed, delayed, delayed...made friends with randoms, ate a burrito...ate some ice cream, played games on my cell phone...read the TV guide...twice. I knew there was another flight taking off about three hours later that had only a few seats on it, which was starting to look pretty good since my plane wasn't leaving any time soon. So with a little wink to the old man behind the counter, I convinced him to get me booked on the other flight, which he finally did TWO minutes before they were going to close the gate. I made it! Not much of a lesson learned in this incident...more of a thank goodness my plane was still on the ground when it got struck by lightning!

Just a few of my travel tribulations of the past year. I've got more dating farther back...like six years ago when I had 20 minutes to make a connecting flight in Detroit between New Hampshire and Minneapolis and had to run from one end of the airport to the other with a severe hangover from the night before. Use your imagination...

Reason #162 Not to Become a Crazy Old Cat Lady

Before I begin this post, please bow your head and say a prayer for me that the particular client I am about to write about is not part of the blogging world. I think I am safe, but if by some chance she were to come across my blog, I may be out of a big sale! And when I say big, I mean, it might pay my gas money this month.

My mortgage loan officer friend must not have read my post on how I am taking referrals for million dollar home buyers. While he did send me a referral, he dropped a zero off of that million. But hey, work is work, so I shouldn't complain, right? He called me up to tell me about a woman he just pre-approved to buy a house who needs a realtor. "Her name is "Frannie" and she is a 46-year old, single, never been married, first-time homebuyer, once in the military, woman with 3 cats who filed for bankruptcy two years ago...but she is very nice and ready to buy a very inexpensive house." Pretty much every Realtors dream. Naturally, he thought of me and thought we'd hit it off as a realtor/client duo.

Frannie and I met Saturday morning in the 103 degree heat to look at homes for her. Speculating on what my company must be like, I dressed down in my best casual, yet cool, clothes---a white cotton t-shirt and jean skirt. She showed up in a hospital scrub shirt and jeans and commented on how I was "all dressed up." In hindsight, I probably looked like the high school cheerleader and she looked like the cafeteria lady. However, my friend was right and Frannie was really quite sweet. We had a good afternoon driving around and actually found some things we have in common. Like how she was a cop in West Virginia in the military in the late 80s...and my dad was in the Navy in Hawaii in the 60s! We also both have a brother and ummmm....oh, and we both hate Ikea! AND, we both have noses on our faces! Let me just say, thank god she found a house she liked on our first outing. Not because we didn't get along, but because there are just not a lot of great houses in the price range she is looking. Last night we sat down to do some number crunching where she pulled out a piece of paper where she had listed her monthly expenses. It looked something like this:

Cable: $50
Electric: $25
Food: $200
Gas: $125
Car: $200
Insurance: $200
Cats: $150
Smokes: $100

She had various different mortgage payment scenarios and had determined what her monthly debt or surplus would be every month after considering her monthly bills. Basically, what was concluded was even if we get this house for considerably (and unrealistically) less than asking price, she will still be living paycheck to paycheck and have little to no money leftover for retirement/savings.

Let me say it here...The day I turn 46 and can't afford the least expensive home in Minneapolis because I am forking out $250 a month for cats and smokes...please kill me gently. So far, I'm in the clear, as I don't like cats and I have never smoked a cigarette in my life...but if it starts to happen, just let me go easy. I was this close to asking her if she has thought about the Patch...or how much she really loves her cats, but bit my tongue. To each their own.

As she explained to me, she will never have children and thus her cats ARE her kids. If that means living in an apartment for the rest of her life where she regularly hears gunshots (and not because she lives near a shooting range), just so she can afford her cats, so be it. Near tears, she said, "I'm scared. Buying a house means that I'm a grown-up and I don't want to grow up!" She tells this to me...her realtor...who's 20 years her junior and owns a home. But, I'm going to do the best I can to get Frannie and her "kids" into a safer neigborhood and a home she can own. Wish me luck...I've got some tough, tough negotiating ahead of me!