Our Last Day in Spain

After the chaos of traveling in the city yesterday we felt it appropriate to spend our last day in Spain relaxing at the resort. We started our day at the crack of dawn . . . literally. We got up before the sunrise (which is very easy to do in Spain) and drove to a particular beach that had a boardwalk. Despite the fact that we enjoyed spectacular sunrises from our deck at the villa (pictured above), I was itching to get some different sunrise pictures and we took a nice morning walk, snapping pictures along the way. (Some pictues from this can be found in the link at the bottom of this post.)

Later in the morning I think I broke my beach tolerance record and laid still for 2 hours! The first hour went quite fast and easy, but during the second hour both of us were getting bored. First we made up different games that involved throwing rocks. That amused us for quite some time and there were no shortage of rocks in the sand. Then Karlo started to pile rocks on top of me -- not as amusing.

Then we decided to use rocks to write words in the sand . . . That was it. It was time for lunch.



We had a great spread of salami, cheese, olives, roasted peppers and grapes back at the villa. That was one of my favorite things to do, have little feasts on our patio. I will miss that! Next it was time for another favorite pastime, taking long walks on the beach. Minus the terror or Karlo threatening to throw me in the water, that was my most relaxing time.

On our last night we headed to Marbella for dinner. This is the spot for the “super rich” according to our guidebook and I guess that’s why we avoided it all week. But it was quite a nice beach side city and we had an awesome dinner and strolled around the city. To see more pics from this day, please click here.

A City and Beach Vacation

Those are two places that I never imagined Karlo and I would spend our vacation time, but as it turns out, that is mostly what this place is all about. After our visit to the bustling city of Cadiz we spent the next day on our beach. It is still impossible for me to sit still on the beach for more than one hour so we took lots and lots of walks. I’m so impressed with how many barefoot miles I logged. The shore goes on forever and the rocks were so pretty it was like a giant treasure hunt for me. It looked like tiny bits of granite counter top samples washed up on the beach. When the rocks were wet they glistened in so many different colors and were perfectly polished after years and years of waves making them smooth. All I could do was picture them all as jewelry. I can’t lie on the beach more than an hour, but I can hunt for pretty rocks all day long. Good thing I packed light to accommodate for the 5 pounds of rocks that I want to keep!

In the later afternoon we headed up to Fuengirola for dinner. (Or was that considered lunch?) This was another beach side city in Costa del Sol, but really they all sort of start to look the same. From there we headed to a much more unique town called Mijas. This one was on the side of the mountain overlooking the sea. It was beautiful. The views from up there were gorgeous and the village was so quaint. Every building is painted white and stacked one upon the other. The best business in Spain has to be selling white paint! We strolled through the shops just before the sun completely set and the shops closed up for the night.

So after our relaxing “beach day” it was once again time for another city visit. Gulp. We drove 2 hours northeast to Granada. This was another huge city that is considered the gem of Spain’s Moorish heritage. There was way too much to see in one day so we thought we should start at the most famous part, the Alhambra, which is a medieval palace built in the 11th century. According to our guidebook, you need to book tickets to see this place one year in advance (during the high season) so we figured it MUST be good. Since it wasn’t high season we couldn’t miss the opportunity . . .

Well, we will never know just how good it is. It was a nightmare of waiting in line. First we waited 30 minutes in one line only to find out there was a separate line if you wanted to pay by credit card. So we bailed from the first line and went to the credit card line, which was shorter so that was a bonus. Only problem was they didn’t really mean ‘credit card’ but rather ‘debit card’ which we didn’t have. I could see the steam starting to come out of Karlo’s ears despite his very cool exterior. No doubt both of us had dwindling patience.

It was back to the even-longer-now main line for another 30 minutes of waiting until we both decided that nothing on Earth was worth the wait and we split. There went the morning. Uuuugh. But there was more that I wanted to see in the city so we braved another parking garage (crazy, I know) and headed out on foot. I was determined to find the streets that make up “Little Morocco.” This was a labyrinth of narrow alleyways lined with Moroccan shops and tea rooms. It felt exactly like we were really in Morocco. I was not expecting such Arabic influences in Spain. There was no shortage of Arabic writing on signs and even Arabic music on the radio. It was a very unique experience.


We had a nice lunch in the city square, took a short walk past some huge and amazing churches, and headed back to the coast. After the drive through the traffic I needed another beach stroll. We got changed and walked for miles as the sun set. It was so romantic. It went something like this . . . Karlo walking in the water and me 8 feet away, trying to keep drier. Karlo comes up to hug (grab) me and I yell, “No, no! Get away from me. Don’t touch me.” Karlo laughs his evil laugh, trying to pull me towards the water saying, “Don’t you trust me?” and I reply, “Of course I don’t trust you. Don’t be ridiculous.” It just doesn’t get any more romantic than that ;-)

If you would like to see more pictures from these outings, please click here.

A Visit to the Oldest City in Europe

Today we took a drive to a city called Cadiz. It’s on the Western Coast of Spain on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean. It was established by the Phoenician in the 1100s. My guidebook said that it’s the most under visited city in Spain and much of it remains unchanged from the early days. Based on this we were expecting an old deserted village, but it was far from that. Instead, it was bustling city, jam-packed with people and cars. Finding a parking spot was quite the challenge because there was no way we were risking another parking garage. Once we conquered the sport of parking we walked all over the small peninsula. It had everything that a typical port village had: tiny alleyways, a city center, plenty of churches, and lots of little shops. This place should share the nickname of “the windy city.” Because of its location with water on three sides, the wind never stopped. But I guess that was a good thing because it sure was hot. We had ice cream in the town center, strolled the shops for some souvenirs, and took in the sights of the town.

From Cadiz we drove a different route along the coast to the most southerly spot in Spain. The town was called Tarifa and it’s a famous spot for windsurfing. And I thought Cadiz was windy! This is where the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea come together. Africa is only 7 miles across the Strait of Gibraltar. We had an awesome lunch at a place right on the beach while gazing across the sea to Morocco.

Next we headed to the Rock of Gibraltar. We couldn’t come this far and not see that icon. It sure was an impressive rock!


By the time we got back to the villa it was late and I will still full from our big seafood lunch. We decided to go to the market for supplies and have a light dinner on our patio. It seemed the wind was even strong back on our beach which caused the waves to be bigger than usual. We sat and relaxed, munching on our picnic dinner, sipping our cheap Spanish wine, and listening to the crashing surf.

To see a few more pics from this outing, please click here.

The Challenges of Living and Eating in Spain

We are trying really hard to assimilate ourselves to the Spanish lifestyle, but it’s hard. The biggest problem is the fact that everything shuts down between noon and 5PM. How annoying is that? Today we decided to stick around the resort and take in some beach action. Since hearing the waves crashing seems to do wonders for my shoulder, I was game for a day of relaxing. But after our first hour on the beach (from 11 to noon) we decided that perhaps we better buy some suntan lotion. So we went back to the villa for lunch (at 12:30 like normal Americans do, silly us) and then headed out in search of a store that sells lotion.

Well that turned out to be quite the adventure. Nothing was open. Well, almost nothing. After driving all over we did manage to find a store that was just about to close and we barely squeaked in to get the lotion. By the time we got back the tide was low and it was perfect for our several mile walk along the shoreline so that worked out good.

Just after 5PM we got cleaned up and headed into town. We walked around until 7, which seemed like a reasonable time to eat dinner. We were both starving since our noon lunch was a very light one. That is where we went wrong. In Spain you are supposed to eat a huge lunch around 3 or 4 o’clock and then eat dinner no earlier than 8PM. We couldn’t find a single place serving dinner at 7 and I was convinced that I would pass out waiting another hour.

Dinner time in Spain . . . and it's still light out!

Last bits of sunlight.

When we finally sat down for dinner I was thrilled to see some English on the menu. But despite the English, I still had no clue was I ordered. Even scarier was the fact that I still didn’t know what it was WHILE I was eating it! But it was yummy and much less gross than Karlo’s sardines or whatever the heck he was eating; fins, tails, eyeballs and all. Most of our dinner talk consisted of Karlo trying to get me to try one of those nasty looking fish . . . “Trust me, it’s good” he says, but I just rolled my eyes and told him that he’s nuts. I enjoyed my mystery food and tomorrow we will do better at forcing ourselves to better follow the shopping and eating rules of Spain.

Life in Andalusia

Much like Northern Italy, nobody speaks English here. I’m wishing I downloaded my Spanish translator app at this point, but we are managing. We went out on the town for dinner last night and walked the streets of Estepona. What an adorable city right on the shore. We had dinner outside on the boardwalk of the beach and walked along the shore at sunset. It was very relaxing and just what my shoulder needed.

But today was a different story. We decided to take a long drive through the mountains and experience part of the motorcycle tours – by car. All I got to say is THANK GOD we didn’t rent bikes like we had originally planned. These roads are terrifying. Yes, the views were amazing, but the stress of driving them was killing me. There goes the shoulder pain again . . . . Not only did we get to see the sights of the beautiful Spanish country side (sorry no pics from a moving car), but we also got to gawk at all the cool motorcycles everywhere. They have so much nicer bikes in Europe. It’s just not fair!

We visited an awesome town called Ronda in the late afternoon. This was the birthplace of bullfighting and we toured the biggest and first bullfighting ring and museum. Karlo was in heaven. The city was very cool and was separated into two parts, divided by an enormous gorge and connected by a massive stone bridge. One side was the “ancient” side and the other the “modern.” I personally couldn’t tell the difference as their definition of “modern” was a strange one.


After our lovely sightseeing and a very late lunch in the town center the stress started all over again. We parked in a public garage that required you to take a ticket upon entry. For some reason Karlo thought you needed to enter your credit card to get the ticket and that is exactly what we did. We stuck in our credit card and out popped the ticket. We assumed that our card would be charged when we exited the garage. Looking back on it now we realize how ridiculous that idea was . . . based on the “modern” side of the village. Anyway, we got in the long line of cars trying to exit and when it was our turn the ticket didn’t work. We had other cars honking and the attendant came over and yelled at us in Spanish. He kept yelling the same thing over and over despite the fact that we told him we don’t understand Spanish. He moved barriers and made us get back in the line of traffic trying to exit the garage. Now what? We were trapped. I got out of the car in search of somebody that spoke English. Come to find out we were trying to use the entrance ticket to the bullfighting museum instead of the parking ticket! Good heavens, stupid tourists.

So now that we got that all figured out it was once again our turn at the gate. Before we had the chance to put the right ticket in our buddy came running back over, grabbed the ticket out of Karlo’s hands and started yelling at us again. We were stuck all over again. The guy was going on and on in Spanish and we didn’t understand a word. Karlo pulled out his money and waved it in front of him, but instead of taking our money the guy took off with our ticket leaving us sitting at the gate with the cars honking their horns behind us. What a nightmare. It was then that I realized the gate was in the open position. I yelled, “JUST GO . . . QUICK . . .DRIVE!!!” Karlo floored it and we ‘escaped’ the parking garage and got the heck out of Ronda as quick as we could.

It was all very stressful so by the time we got to the long mountain pass with its dizzying heights and fast twists and turns my shoulder was killing me again. But we did get some good laughs at our Bonny & Clyde exit from Ronda. A piece of advice: if you ever visit Andalusia, learn some Spanish and don’t park in any garages!

By the time we got back to the villa it was nearly too late for dinner. I felt the need for a relaxing stroll so we went to Estepona for a nice walk along the beach. We strolled the streets and opted for a gelato dessert instead of dinner. We got back just in time to go to bed, listening to the waves crashing on the shore. By then I was all better.

If you would like to see more pictures from this day, please click here.

Saying Goodbye to Italy and Hello to Spain

Our last night in Italy was a fun one. It was the last time the whole group would have dinner together and we made everyone wait for our train to get back from Venice. We had a lot of good laughs with our co-workers and another nice dinner on the company tab ;-) The best part was that we completely enjoyed ourselves into the late hours without the knowledge that we needed to get up at 4:00 AM to make our early morning flight. We didn’t learn that until we were back in the room. We arranged for a taxi and hit the sack.

We had no trouble getting to the airport (with our 115 Euro =$150 taxi fare) and arrived in Malaga Spain nice and early. We had the whole day to get settled in to our new temporary home, which was a lovely villa on the ocean. In my pre-trip research I learned that the average temps for this time of the year should be in the mid to upper 70s. That didn’t sound like beach weather to me so I packed accordingly. We arrived to this gorgeous beach resort, the temps in the 80s, and nothing but sunshine. Darn it. I needed to go shopping for beach clothes . . .

Our new temporary home in Spain (definitely felt like Greece to me):

Our little patio:
And the view of the beach:

Going Back in Time

My next day in Italy improved greatly. I convinced a couple of my colleagues to ditch the trade show and come with me to Venice. Our representative in Italy arranged for one of his employees to meet us there and act as our own personal Italian tour guide. What a great day we had and I'm so thankful for my buddies coming along as I would have never figured out the trains to get myself there. It was a long ride, but well worth it.

This was not my first visit to Venice, but no matter how many times you visit you just can't help but to marvel by the entire scene. It's as if you just stepped out of a time capsule that has transported you back in time. There is truly no place like it in the world and it's something that you just have to see to believe. I just couldn't get enough of walking through the tiny alleyways and poking into all the adorable shops. The lure of amazing food was around every corner and all of your senses go into overload. We had a nice little lunch and then walked and walked all day long. Our new friend, Marianna, spoke great English and came fully equipped with a guide book and thankfully a map. That place is a maze of alleyways and without that map we may have been swimming back to the train station. This was definitely the highlight of my time in Italy.

If you would like to see some more pictures of Venice, please click here.

Life in the Fashion Capital of the World

I think the ‘idea’ of being in Milan is more glamorous that actually being here. There’s no doubt that window shopping and seeing all the amazing clothes is a thrill. The depressing part is the price tags. Holy smokes is everything expensive here. I mean ridiculously expensive and add the unfavorable exchange rate and shopping in Milan is not really an option. So take away the fun fashion and you’re basically left with a big ugly city, filled with mostly rude people. And traveling through it is just not pleasant or easy.

But I made the best of it. After my horrific journey to get here I was treated to a fabulous dinner in the Duomo Center. The buildings were so beautiful all lit up at night and Karlo and I strolled around with a small group of our coworkers. It was a fun night (after Karlo stopped complaining about the two train rides it took to get there) with amazing food (that’s the one part of Italy that never fails you).


I got brave on my first day alone in the city. Karlo had two more days to work and I needed to occupy myself. I took the train into the city center and used a handy dandy map to get myself around. I think Karlo was far more scared that I was. He was a nervous wreck knowing I was out and about in the big scary city all by myself. And I must say, I was impressed with myself. I walked all over the city window shopping, eating yummy treats, and sightseeing. I never got lost, nor mugged, so it was a very successful day.



If you would like to see more pictures from Milan, please click here.

Home Sweet Home

I wish it was sweet to be home, but I can't say that it is. Yesterday was a very tough travel day. It seems traveling never goes smoothly when you're anxious to get home. All was good until we got to Washington where the US Immigration lines were out of control and because of them we missed our connection. We were supposed to take off from Washington at 5 PM, but instead got told that we can wait on a standby list for the next (and last) flight that was due to depart at 10:15PM. Great, that meant 5 hours to kill in the airport when we've already been up for nearly 20 hours. It was a long 5 hours of waiting, biting our nails and praying we would get seats on the already overbooked plane. Luckily we did.

We made it home just before 1AM, completely exhausted, and entered our cold house and greeted our scared and lonely dog. Poor Peanut didn't have a visitor come over yesterday and we were much later than we had expected. We only had time to hug and kiss her before we headed to bed ourselves. Notice I said "to bed" and not "to sleep." Peanut cried and howled the entire night long. She's just a lost soul without Bentley. It was just a long and difficult day for us.

Today wasn't much better. We picked Bentley up from the vet first thing in the morning. Despite the good reports I got while away, it seems he's back to how he was before we left. The pain meds that were doing the trick needed to be stopped because of his upset stomach. So now he's on more meds for the upset stomach. Once that gets fixed we can continue his pain meds to help him walk. After seeing his condition, followed by the vet bill, I just wanted to cry all over again. Our vacation got significantly more expensive and after watching Bentley just lay there lifeless all day I can't help wonder if we made the right decision. This afternoon Karlo dug a big hole in the backyard and seeing it sent a sword through my chest. I know I'm going to have to keep reliving this pain and sorrow until the deed is finally done and I hate every minute of it.

But on a much brighter note, our trip was great and I have lots of stories and pictures to share. Over the next two weeks (hopefully starting tomorrow) I plan to document my stories (as I always do). I'm really publishing these stories for my own reference, but I invite you to come along on my journey if you so desire. I should be back to my regularly scheduling talking about nothing shortly . . .

My Induction to Solo Overseas Travel

By now I would say that I’m a veteran domestic traveler. I’ve been “flying solo” for over a dozen years and I’m quite comfortable doing so. But this trip would mark only my second attempt at solo international travel. And it didn’t go as smoothly as I would have hoped. All three of my flights went fine. I was a bit worried about my 50 minute connection in Washington (Would I make it on time?) and my 4 hour layover in Germany (What would I do with myself for that long?) but both were easy. It wasn’t until I landed in Milan that the trouble started.

According to all my paperwork, there was supposed to be a shuttle bus that ran from the airport directly to the tradeshow where Karlo was working. All I had to do was find that bus. Easy, right? Wrong! Nobody spoke English at the airport (and that pretty much set the scene for most of this trip) and there was no signage anywhere for the show. I had a printout of the fairgrounds and showed this to somebody at the bus stand. I bought a ticket for more money than my paperwork indicated and that should have been my first clue that something wasn’t right. I tried to ask the bus driver if I was in the right place, but he hurried me along and brushed me off just as quick as he could. I got onboard and hoped for the best. About 30 minutes later the jam-packed bus stops in the middle of a crowded city street and the bus driver calls out “MilanoFeiroCity.” Positively nobody moves and I had the feeling he was making this stop just for me. That was supposedly the name of the fairgrounds, but I knew it just didn’t look right. What else could I do but get off the bus?

So here I am with my big suitcase, my heavy backpack, in brand new shoes and a turtleneck sweater in the middle of a bustling city where there was positively no sign of the trade show. I walked and walked in search of help, all the while lugging my bags. It was dreadful. After walking about a half mile in the wrong direction I found somebody that could speak a speck of English. Together we figured out that I was in the OLD fairgrounds (with the same name) and at least 15-20 km away from the new fairgrounds where the show was. I was ready to cry. Finding a taxi was terrifying as Karlo told me that his fare from the airport to the hotel cost . . . get this . . . 115 Euros, which is like $150. There was no way I was chancing that nightmare. So I pulled , carried, and dragged my bags over another kilometer through the city to find the metro station. Boy was I happy to see that big M sign and impressed that I found it.

Now I had to contend with the huge flight of stairs to get down to the station, figuring out how to buy a ticket and then which train to get on. No stress there I tell you! By some miracle I bought the right ticket and then managed to get my big pink suitcase completely stuck in the turn style. Great, just what I needed. I had to go find a very rude Italian worker to help me. He was not the slightest bit amused by my dilemma, but I thought it was pretty funny. I made it to the tracks just as a train pulled in. I had a 50/50 chance that it was going in the right direction, but I hopped on anyway. At this point not much was going to faze me and luckily it was the right one. It was about 100 degrees on that train (don’t forget about my turtleneck sweater) and all the seats were taken. I endured what seemed like an eternity in Hell before the train finally stopped at the correct fairgrounds. I made it at last . . .

Not so fast. Now I still had to find Karlo. I had the booth number and was very accustomed to trade shows so how bad could that be? Well, nearly one mile later I almost gave up. I was in so much pain with my hurting, stress-induced shoulder and there wasn’t a speck of foot skin that was blister free. I just wasn’t sure how I would press on. But I did and I was never so happy to see a Mastercam logo or Karlo’s face in my life.

Greetings from Spain

Well, I have all sorts of blog posts typed up and ready to go. Too bad I can´t figure out how to use this $%&/" spanish internet station. So very frustrating. Hopefully I can catch up when I´m back in Italy. Until then I´ll just keep writing and saving . . .

We are having a great time. The weather is the definition of perfect and the sights are great. I should stay away from computers to keep my stress level down. OK, signing off. More soon.

The Thrill Ride of a Lifetime

Yesterday was the most incredible emotional rollercoaster. I still cannot believe how many times I went up and down. I made peace with saying goodbye to Bentley and went through the intense sadness of letting go no less than three times. I prepared myself for the bad news before it arrived. Then I got elated thinking that maybe the bad news wouldn’t arrive. Then I had to deal with the news once it did arrive. Then I had to break it to Karlo and make a decision of what to do. I made the decision to medicate him and put him down after our trip. I visited Bentley at the vet and drove home feeling OK. I got home to a message from Karlo saying he did NOT want Bentley to spend his last days in a cage, sad and lonely just so we can see him again when we came home. I felt like a ping pong ball, back and fourth with my decisions and emotions. I insisted that Karlo call me (on a real phone rather than chatting via the computer) to discuss. It was a dreadful, tearful and short conversation that ended with me agreeing to put him down today . . . on my way to the airport. Can you imagine a worse way to start a vacation?

So I immediately called the vet to explain the change of heart. I could barely talk on the phone, being the emotional wreck that I was. I felt so weak and pathetic. Karlo even suggested that he fly home and we cancel our trip. I knew I had to be strong . . .

But luckily the vet was the most caring and understanding woman on Earth. She calmed me down and explained that I shouldn’t make this decision like this. She promised to monitor Bentley and see if the meds are making a positive impact on him. If they do, we can come back and take him home for anywhere from a couple weeks to a couple of months! And in the event that the meds don’t work, they asked if they can put him down without us there. Knowing and trusting these folks so much I knew they were better equiped at making this decision than I was and it was like a huge weight being lifted off my shoulders. Once again, I was back to being at peace.

I went to visit Bentley this morning and I realized there was no way I could have done the deed today. He was perky and alert and the same old friendly fellow. He’s getting showered with attention and I know he’s in good hands. Peanut, on the other hand, is sad, lonely and scared. I feel so bad for her. I hope she enjoys all her visits by friends these couple of weeks to get her mind off missing Bentley.

My next entry should be happier. Please stay tuned.

A Very Rough Weekend and Day

I had big plans for this past weekend. I knew it would be a busy one and I knew I would be all alone. I was almost looking forward to a total weekend of “me” time to work on my craft projects, catch up on my life, and prepare for vacation. Karlo took off Saturday morning for Milan. The weather was nasty and I envisioned a whole day of being productive indoors, but it seemed I didn’t get nearly the things accomplished that I had planned. I got very distracted by trying to figure out how Karlo and I would communicate without the world phones that I bought (but can’t use), the nitty gritty details of packing, and caring for and worrying about Bentley.

My poor boy had taken a turn for the worse over the past few weeks. I can’t help but to think that it’s my fault for ever uttering the word “puppy” in his presence. Seems as though ever since I did Bentley hasn’t been himself. No sooner does Karlo leave for his trip and I swear things went even further downhill. Karlo insisted that Bentley was just sad because he saw the suitcase and saw me hugging Karlo at the door. But I knew it was worse than that. I stressed myself out all day on Saturday and finally called the vet on Sunday. There was no way I could leave him in this condition and enjoy a single day of our vacation. I got busy making a ramp to help him get in and out of the doggie door and patiently waited for the vet to call me back.

I was able to get an appointment first thing this morning and driving to Tolland today was the longest and most dreadful drive ever. I knew in the bottom of my stomach that it may be his last ride in the Jeep. I just felt that something was not right. After a complete rollercoaster of emotions all morning long, several trips to the bathroom, a packet of tissues, and several hundred calories lost due to shivering and shaking I finally got the bad news from the vet. My precious baby has bone cancer. Despite the fact that I already knew in my heart this was coming, the sadness that swept over me was nearly too much to bear. And to think I’m going through this alone, with Karlo thousands of miles away. All I can say is that the people at Tolland Veterinary are the most wonderful people on earth. They offered to keep and care for Bentley for the two weeks while we will be away . . . just so that Karlo and I can both properly say goodbye to him when we return. Coming home will be incredibly hard knowing what we need to do. I’m trying really hard to think good thoughts and celebrate the amazing life we gave him, but this has been one terrible day.

A Long Week

It's been a long week with not much free time to blog. Work has pretty much consumed our lives for the past four days. We left the office on Monday morning and checked into the Marriott in Hartford for our annual reseller meeting. From that moment on, all of our waking minutes were work and both the days and nights were very long. Of course I can't really complain too much because, besides taking photos of the event, I basically just sat around and socialized. I didn't have any of this kind of stress to deal with:


Karlo had it much harder than me. He had to give a presentation in front of over 200 people, as well, as teach for 10 straight hours (with an hour off for lunch) one of the days. While Karlo was busy teaching, I was hanging out and setting up our 'fun night.' This work included lounging on a couch and setting up our Wii systems for the upcoming party. I literally got paid to create little cartoon characters of our staff. Boy was that a fun job. Here's me on the Wii:

We also got to have an amazing dinner at the Society Room in downtown Hartford. I love this place:

The dinner was yummy, the drinks were free, there was music, dancing, and great company. But this was the best part:

All in all it was a fun week. But now we're back and the party is over. Karlo is busy packing for Italy and I will be following him shortly. There will likely be very little blogging going on next week, but I'll be sure to catch up as soon as I find Internet access.