The post that should have gone up on Friday night

Clearly I am no longer on the airplane because that would be pure torture considering we left the DR two days ago, but I wrote this on the way home. Then I got home and was nearly assassinated by a huge pile of laundry and forgot all about it. So I’m posting it a little late. Just pretend like I’m not and the world will be a happier place.

At the moment I’m writing this I am on the plane from Miami to Dallas. I’m listening to my sweet 80’s mix on my iPod because international travel puts me in the mood for Chicago’s greatest hits with a little old school Michael Jackson and some Tiffany thrown in for good measure because who doesn’t like Mall Rock. I won’t lie, it’s a mix that is 31 flavors of awesome.

We left the hotel this morning at around 7:00 a.m. and I immediately regretted my decision to stay up until 2 a.m. the night before and then take a Benadryl. The good news is I’ve been able to sleep intermittently on various legs of the flight and treated the people next to me to the glorious sight of me sleeping with my mouth open.

When we got to Miami we had to clear customs, which took a sweet forever and then headed straight for some comida Americano (that means “American food” for those of you who aren’t bilingual). Most of our group decided on California Pizza Kitchen, but I went straight up Burger King because my gastrointestinal system hadn’t been exposed to fine fast food cuisine in six days and that is too long, mi amigos.

I am so ready to get home to my peeps I can hardly stand it. And I’m not just saying that because we’re going straight to eat Mexican food the minute they pick me up from the airport. I’d be glad to see them with or without the presence of warm chips and guacamole. But don’t think I’m not going to scarf down copious amounts of avocado and cheese-based products.

This past week I’ve talked a lot about Compassion and the people of the Dominican Republic, but there’s a whole other element of the trip that I haven’t discussed, spending a week with eleven people I’d never met before.

It’s kind of a weird thing to go to a foreign country with a group of strangers. If you don’t like them then the best you can hope for is that you find a few locals to hang out with who don’t get tired of you asking them how old they are because it’s the only Spanish phrase you know.

I can say with all honesty that the group exceeded my expectations. And there’s nothing better than starting a week off with everyone being polite and ending it being comfortable enough to make fun of each other.

On the last night, we all met in the conference room of the hotel to talk about the week and share any thoughts we had about the whole thing. We talked about the serious aspects and then talked about some of the other things we’d done, such as jumping off a cliff into the Caribbean. (Not me, by the way. My days of jumping off cliffs are long gone, if they ever existed at all. Which they didn’t. Risk taker? Not so much.)

One day a group of us went down to the beach area outside the hotel to witness the aforementioned jumping off cliffs. I made the comment that I’d stuck fairly close to Marlboro Man on the way down to the water because I figured if he can wrestle steers (cows?) to the ground, then he could probably take on a thug hiding out near the ocean if the need arose.

Shaun asked why I didn’t feel that way about him and I had to tell him it’s because he’s a musician AND he went to Baylor. Neither of those things really scream BODYGUARD MATERIAL.

But, Shaun, if I am ever in the need for some great adult contemporary music, you are totally my go-to guy. And if y’all don’t believe me you can go here and listen to Shaun’s new song. I’ve probably listened to it a hundred times in the last week.

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