Here's hoping the travel gods and goddesses smile on me. No lost luggage (almost always happens), no missed connections, no flat tires on my rental car, and for heaven's sakes, not another pat-down like I got in the Bahamas. I guess I look like a drug smuggler or something, because the other two people picked were Rastafarians. That woman got so up and personal with me I think she knew my name and address and if I was ovulating or not.
Have a great weekend, y'all, and there will absolutely be pictures when I get back. Squeeeeee!