I’m laying on the poofy white bed watching Andy program and looking at planes take off from the airport. The radio is on and I’m drinking a cup of overpriced Starbucks tea. Everything in this complex is about twenty percent higher than the normal outside world. Right now it’s a price I’m willing to pay to be insulated from El Diablo, Las Vegas. Looking down on the silent and sparkly city I can almost feel affection. Almost. When I get into the car and it takes me an hour and a half to go somewhere that should take twenty minutes, my sanitary, high above the city kindness, fades.

I had a hair debacle. But unless your a girl, and even then, probably only if you’re me, would you be interested. Let’s just say that the guy tried twice and another girl fixed it on the third try. I’m a red head again.

We had our first couchsurfer in the new place. I think I may not be updating as much as usual because I’m writing so many emails to surfers requesting accommodations. Shocking that travelers would want to say right on the strip with quick access to all Vegas has to offer.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here before, but this summer is The Summer of Andy. I was concerned when the idea was at first jokingly brought up. I had visions of all day television marathons, and a living room full of Taco Bell wrappers and empty mini bottles of Patron. Even though I had my misgivings, I kept quiet and decided to trust my husband and the direction he wanted to go. For me, The Summer of Andy is all about me not being such a control freak. To relax and relearn that if I let go a little everything is not going to fall apart. In fact, things might just go a little smoother.

Not only is The Summer of Andy not bad, it’s great. Andy is even going to the gym with me. Can you believe it! Andy likes the elliptical machine (please reassure him that it’s not fem). And really, it’s not even summer yet. Technically it’s The Spring of Andy. Just think of the greatness to come.