#8- Live where others vacation...

Travis was up and out early for interviews and I didn't really know what to do with myself. I went down to the pool but of course it was cold and rainy so I came back up to the room. I bounced from the balcony, to the couch, to the chair, to the bed, not able to sit tight. Finally Trav came back and told me all about his morning meetings. Everything had gone great. This was awesome news.

We met a real estate agent downstairs in the lobby. He had been given a budget from the HR team and showed us nine homes. These places were crazy!

Each home was in a different gated community within 10-minutes of Travis's new work. Each unit came fully furnished and had beautiful grounds to walk Bob. All properties had pools of every shape and size and all but one had beach access. Some had beach access from their back door.

Our favorite was a free standing home that had 3-bedrooms and an office. There was a large veranda, out three patio doors. The veranda led to a grass area and its own boat dock. There was sand that led into the crystal blue lagoon where Bob would be able to take a swim whenever he pleased. The beach was a perfect spot to house kayaks or paddle boards. We could see ourselves spending numerous hours having coffee or wine on the deck or down in the water, swimming with Bob. It opened up the possibility that we might actually be able to live the life we've always dreamed of.

By the end of our trek through west end suburbia, we had a good idea of what we were looking for and what price range. We were so much more confident that a life in the Bahamas was actually possible, and so much better then New York.

We returned to the hotel excited and for the first time, able to picture our lives in the Bahamas. We had so much running through our mind, though little time to talk about it. We rushed back to the hotel and got ready for dinner.

Reservations had been made for Trav and I at Mesa Grill at the Cove in Atlantis, Paradise Island. We took a cab over and enjoyed a few drinks at the bar before letting the waitress order our entire meal. It was fantastic and so was she. I was so impressed by every Bahamian that crossed our path and enriched our experience. From the tour guide to the hostess, everyone was so happy to be there and it showed.

We walked around the restaurant and the grounds of the Cove. For those that believe in The Secret- here's one for your vision board.

In 2007, I was working for a company that decided to have its annual meeting at the newly built Cove in Atlantis. It was amazing. One of the nicest rooms I've ever stayed in. While the majority of my days were spent in meetings, we had one free day to ourselves. It was one of the best days of my life.

People have told me throughout my life that there's nothing like taking an amazing vacation, by yourself. But who has the opportunity to do such a thing? I now know what they're talking about because for my one free day, I was able to pretend like I was on a luxurious vacation, all by myself. I was free to do whatever I wanted to do and everything was at my disposal. I had a long massage and hung out at the spa. I pool hopped at the main Atlantis pool and went round and round in the lazy river. I grabbed lunch and a cocktail at the Cove pool bar and dragged my beach chair out to where the sand came to a point. In this crowded resort, I was the only one on the beach that day. I felt such peace and sheer joy in that moment. I have always remembered that day and that moment and I have frequently envisioned myself back in time. This specific moment is my happy place.

Now 7 years later, we were standing in the same spot where this special moment was created. My happy place was about to become our home.


Read Next: #9- Strangers on a Train, Mar 15

#7- Is it better in the Bahamas?

I must've packed four different times for this 3-day trip. I had no idea what we were doing or how to dress. I was putting bathing suits in my bag instinctively but had no clue if I was going to be able to wear them. How do you pack for a vacation destination when there will be no vacation of any kind? It messes with your mind a little. Especially when your mind is frozen.

We had an early flight so I was up at 3am. I don't think anyone feels their best at 3am, but I was more nauseous then usual and overcome with anxiety. I had a feeling that this would be one of the longest days of my life, and I was right.

The plane landed after a quick flight and we made it through customs extremely fast. BHD had arranged for transportation to the hotel and our representative was waiting for us. The enormity of the project hit us as we drove to a neighboring resort.

Our room had a gorgeous view of its pool and beach and I was overcome with envy for those who had left their obligations at home and were taking advantage of the gorgeous weather.

We had a few minutes before our "Island Tour" to grab something to eat. In the same clothes we wore on the plane, we certainly looked out of place as we grabbed a bite at the pool cafe.

I was trying to assess my feelings. I had half expected to walk off the plane and have the hot air hit me in the face and feel instantly that I was home, but I didn't. I thought that the first time I saw the deep blue ocean, knowing that this could be my daily view, I would want to sign on the dotted line immediately, but I didn't.

We met our tour representative in the lobby and jumped in her Tahoe to take a personalized tour of Nassau. Within minutes we realized it wasn't the type of Island Tour we needed. I needed to see a grocery store to gauge a case of beer and a hospital to see if I would feel comfortable with them resetting broken bones (if needed) and certainly needed to see a Vet for Bob.

Instead we toured a Rum distillery- actually very cool.

 Here, a Bahamian is hand labeling each bottle inside of the distillery

A few art galleries, a Fort, a Chocolate and Cigar Factory later, we were confused and tired. Don't get me wrong, we learned a lot about the island that may be our future home. We know the best place to take guests for outdoor drinks, the best place to catch NFL games during Football season, and that Twin Brothers has the best daiquiris. We learned all about Queen Elizabeth and then Queen Victoria's reign and where the current Prime Minister lives and works. Apparently he was at a funeral that day because the guide pointed out his car at a local cemetery. We drove through downtown horrified that the hooks in the wall where they used to hang slaves for sale, were still visible. We saw the hoity-toity stores that the tourists flock to, and the famous straw market. We learned that Cable Beach got its name for being the point on the beach where the island received all of their cable from the United States. We toured every point of the island and even took a quick hop across the bridge to Paradise Island where we received a tour of the Ocean Club's lobby and private villas. We saw where Oprah vacations, how the truly wealthy live, and learned the name of the Real Estate Developer that we were advised to quickly befriend for his awesome parties.

My eyes held steadfast on the GPS as the hours ticked by and we headed every direction but West (which was the direction of our hotel, and a bed). My head was getting so heavy and my stomach was churning from more twists and turns. Four hours later, we pulled up to the hotel.

The sun was descending quickly but we needed some Vitamin D so we rushed to the last remaining beach chairs for the last few minutes of sun. We were overwhelmed by the day and finally retreated to our room and our bed to try to nap before dinner.

I don't wake up from naps easily so when my alarm went off symbolizing this day was still not over, I was not a delightful person, to say the least. Cranky pants turned into Medusa when the phone rang and Trav's counterparts advised they were meeting us in the lobby in 15 minutes instead of the 45 minutes the itinerary had advised. I had soaking wet hair, high humidity, and 15 minutes to make my first impression. I lost my mind and grew 12 snake heads in one instant. Poor Travis. In that moment, I wanted to die, cry, go home, give up, never hear of the Bahamas again, all at once. I actually cursed God out loud, truly feeling that he had created me to test me. I didn't understand how each step, no matter how small, was such a hurdle!

I have no idea how we made it out of the hotel room, on time, without a noise complaint or a broken window. I wanted to go get drunk and be done with this, but of course when I met their smiling faces, I mustered "oh, so not a problem". And just like that, it no longer was.

We drove to a freestanding gorgeous little restaurant in town and entered through the attached wine shop. The five of us sat outside sipping cocktails and getting to know each other. It wasn't lost on me that I was possibly dining with the first four people hired for this incredible project that would soon become a household name. The one thing I had lost was my appetite so I was very disappointed to settle on cantaloupe as my entree as I couldn't stomach anything else while everyone else's entrees smelled and looked amazing.

 I felt myself drawn to one of the personalities at the table that I knew was of the salt of the earth variety. He had been with another hotel brand prior to this and something told me I wanted to know what made him choose this particular project. He told me the story of how he was working for another company when he was approached about moving to the Bahamas, and due to the nature of this project, he felt he had to pursue it. Even though he had strong feelings about the daunting, confusing, and prolonged process that followed. Sounds familiar. He said he was on a business trip for his job at the time, doing due diligence in the Bahamas, when he agreed to meet the same team Travis was meeting on this trip. He explained that he had felt tested throughout the entire process, but something kept him going.  My chin was in my cantaloupe. Only hours after I had confronted God about testing me, He was letting me know He had heard me and responded bluntly. He was explaining to me that the world was much bigger then me, and so was the picture at hand. Humbled, I stopped fighting the night, and let it do its thing.

Three hours and two bottles of wine later, we had learned a lot about life in the Bahamas and the close knit family that currently made up this high-profile project. It was organic and refreshing and we felt revived. We fell asleep as soon as we returned to the hotel, as visions of coconuts danced in our heads...


Read Next: #8- Live where others vacation..., Mar 14

#6- Golden Ticket!

I jumped up in a panic. I have sixth sense about many things and this time the little voice in my head whispered that this was going to be very bad... I ran to my purse grabbing for my passport. I have changed my Driver's License since getting hitched but was holding off on getting my passport changed because it needed to be sent away for several weeks, while awaiting the new one. What I thought was diligence and being proactive in the event we had little time to prepare for a trip to the Bahamas, turned out to be one of the most costly and stressful mistakes of my life.

I didn't need to look at my passport to know what it said, I guess I was going through the motions for a more dramatic effect. I knew that my passport expired in one month and that was going to cause a big problem getting to the Bahamas in 10 days.

Rewind...

Our Travel Agent for our Wedding made a notation to our Wedding guests that the Dominican Republic (where we selfishly made all of our guests travel for our nuptials) required a passport that does not expire within six months of your arrival date. To be honest, I saw this as a lot of words and unnecessary math for a Bride-to-Be, so I paid little attention. Little did I know...

Fast Forward, one year later...

Google, who had been our Bahamas Guru, clearly stated that the Bahamas had the same restrictions. I could absolutely, undeniably NOT travel to the Bahamas with my current passport. However, we had already received confirmation that BHD was making our travel arrangements (and were probably doing so at that very moment) Come the next morning, we would be on the hook for providing legitimate passport information. We had to think fast.  We couldn't explain the situation to BHD because we would be exposed for the dummies we are. We couldn't let them purchase the ticket with the expired passport info, and then pray for their forgiveness if I wound up passport-less at the last moment! Holy crap, this was the dilemma of a lifetime. My first instinct was to get in the shower and cry my eyes out, so I did.

Immersed in steam and "scents of relaxation" body soap, I had an overwhelming calming sense that everything would be okay. I'm not blind to the fact that God is like Oz behind the controls of my opening and closing doors so when he tells me to chill out, I listen. I calmly stepped out of the hot shower; dried myself and my tears; and returned to my spot on the couch. I told Travis not to worry. It didn't matter the cost, or inconvenience,  I would figure out how to guarantee myself a passport by the time BHD came calling in the morning.

Day One:

I don't tend to sleep well when my life is out of whack. That's the first part of my life that gets interrupted. So I spent my quiet hours while the world was still slumbering, dong my research. Expediting your passport can be some shady business and I live in the capital of shady town, USA so this was going to be interesting. I went over our options while walking Bob, that frigid Wednesday morning. We could come clean now, saving any backpedaling down the line, and share that I had an issue with my passport and stop BHD from booking my flight. This would require me to stay home while Trav made all of our future life decisions. I wouldn't know what to expect until I was fresh off the boat, arriving island side. My Type A personality shuddered and shoved this option to the bottom of the list. The only other option was to plan a separate trip, at our own cost, back to the island at a later date. This could cost over a thousand dollars to make it happen in the time frame we needed to make a decision, and still wouldn't resolve the passport issue. I had to do what it took to have a passport in my hand in 10 days.

I settled on a passport expeditor and after several phone conversations was advised that I would have my passport, in hand, in 10 days (with a name change due to the recent marriage) for a steep price of $280 which does not include the passport processing fee of $170. Done and done. Of course, before any of the process can even be started, I have to turn over my credit card. I closed my eyes and prayed hard for the best. We were ready for BHD to call with travel plans, we were ready for our trip to the Bahamas.

I ran all over town that day getting everything I needed in-line to mail in. My printer broke that very morning, so Travis had to fill out the electronic form from work, and print it out, while I relayed details over the phone. I then had my passport photos taken, which is a story in itself.

I'm the queen of terrible photographs and a passport photo sticks with you for 10 years. I actually did my hair and make-up for this event which, if you know me, requires extreme motivation. I got to CVS and looking back, I know the kid was messing with me for being that jerk that gets ready for her passport photo, but as he's about to snap the shot, he says "oh, no smiling". What? How come? I would like my outward image to project that I'm a much happier person then I really am, so what's the problem? His response was that it was required that my ears be visible in the photo. Ok, well, when I don't smile, my face seems to droop like I have an ever-present facial abnormality so I was already doomed; and to kick me while I'm down, the kids says "I still can't see your ears" on his next attempt. So I have to physically yank my hair back & pile it behind my ears, all while not smiling, and he catches me mid-blink. No, I don't want to see it. Just tell me how much I owe you. Jerk.

I now have the issue of the marriage certificate because I only have one copy. I'm not sure what else in our future life will require this document; not to mention, this is a pretty important moment, but as an only-child, I don't part with anything easily. It took me half the day to confirm that the original would be mailed back to me with my new fancy passport. A minor victory of the day.

Believe it or not, the only part of my package I wasn't able to complete was the travel itinerary because we still hadn't received it from BHD. It was ironic that I needed to pick and pay for the fastest service because we thought we would be on the hook for travel documents first thing that morning. Now, those exact travel documents were holding up the passport, that I had already paid for. This was the most vicious circle of all. I took a deep breath, I had been assured that if I got the package in the mail the next day, we would still be on track...


Day Two:

Not hearing anything from BHD and needing to get my documents in the mail by noon, Travis reached out, and in response was sent a couple of flight options for the upcoming trip. Each trip had 8-hour lay-overs, each way. The Bahamas is a 3-hour direct flight from New York. There must be some mistake. Travis responded but we didn't hear back. The longer I held my passport documents, they burned a hole in my hands. I called an agent at the passport expeditor and advised that I was having difficulty obtaining the travel documents and they assured me it wasn't an issue. I was promised that I still had time to get them the documents to receive the turn around for my trip...

Day Four:

My $450 dollar passport documents are four days old and pushing expiration. Travis had to pressure BHD and advise that we needed to make arrangements as soon as possible. They sent new flights for our review and things were looking up. They were all direct flights so we were steps closer to getting the travel itinerary I needed to get my documents in.

Travis mentioned that I should probably call to check in again with the passport service to advise we had big hopes of getting the package in the mail that day. I felt strongly opposed to calling again since I had just called the day before,  but decided to do it any way, just to show I was doing all I could to make this happen. The gentleman on the phone, very rudely, told me that I had already "missed my appointment, which would incur an additional $100 fee". Additionally, I was "out of luck" because there wouldn't be another appointment until after my travel date. He was making it very clear that it was now impossible to get me a passport in the time-frame I needed, and instead of a refund, I actually owed them more money. You're joking right? Where's Ashton Kutcher because I am definitely getting punked right now. Too baffled to be pissed, I calmly explained to the gentleman that I had been actively calling throughout this process and have never been advised that my appointment was in jeopardy. My voice may have elevated a few octaves when he then advised me that my representative, William, had noted in the file that he had specifically mentioned that important detail to me. It's funny he should mention William, at that moment, because I did in fact receive an email earlier in this process that I had been assigned a "representative" which I found simply delightful until I tried calling Mr. William. His "direct line" is coincidentally, exactly the same as the main line, which just bounces from representative to representative. Who, like sirens of the deep, incorrectly advise "you can speak to William if you need to, but I can certainly help you". I had tried emailing William my questions but these went unanswered. In previous attempts, I had called and asked for William but was told he was on another line and there is no voice message system. The woman so graciously offered to "walk a post-it over to his desk". When I explained these issues to the gentleman who was now trying to gouge me for more money, he said "well, I'm not calling you a liar BUT...your file says William is the only person you have spoken to". I corrected him, still unbelievably calm, and assured him that this was quite impossible. As I'm quite positive the mother of the woman that helped me yesterday did not name her child William. I would also be more then happy to share my emails that were sent to William (that were never answered), with a Supervisor, if need be. He then told me I needed to relax, a woman's universal trigger, which stunned me to silence. As I was asking him to clarify his new found balls, I was interrupted with hold music. I might have subconsciously gripped the closest knife I had in the kitchen as hard as I could.

William's voice burst through the hold music like an angel through the darkness, as he introduced himself and got caught up on the situation. I had relayed the events very calmly and clearly, for which he immediately apologized and removed the $100 fee for the inconvenience. He apologized for the unanswered emails and explained the current dilemma. It was going to cost me an additional $50 to get this passport in time, since my new appointment (which William so graciously "searched and searched" for) would require a shorter processing time, but once the documents were received, I shouldn't have a problem getting this expedited. I sang William's praises and thanked him so much for saving my trip, and my life. It was after I had hung up that I realized I had "sucker" written all over my forehead. Sick me with your bad cop and scare me to death with $100 in cra-cra fees, and no passport; and then send the good cop in who saves the day with a shiny new passport and it's only $50 extra.. What a bargain! Damn, they were good.

At 8:30pm, Travis and I received our travel itineraries for travel to the Bahamas. The clock was ticking. The moment the UPS store opened the next morning, we mailed the passport documents.

The following Thursday, five days before travel, I received an email that my package would arrive that day by 3p. I jumped up every time I heard a truck outside and due to that down-stairs neighbor vendetta I mentioned earlier, I didn't want my valuable item landing on their porch to be tampered with. By 2:45p my legs were sore and there was no package. I had even run downstairs half a dozen times just to make sure. By 4:30p, I began to worry that my precious package had been intercepted by my arch nemesis's. They had taken my packages before, brought them inside their apartment, and then tossed them back out a few days later. I was half-waiting for the notification that the package had been delivered and was prepared to break a window when it wasn't there. At 6pm, I saw it. Like a ray of sunshine peering through the clouds, my golden ticket had arrived.



Read Next: #7- Is it better in the Bahamas?, Mar 13

#5- Welcome to Wonderland

It was the Bahamas property calling and things were picking up steam again. Of course they were... Trav had received clearance to meet BHD and Travis was getting the heads up that BHD would be reaching out to him directly to make all of his travel and schedule arrangements.

Wait.

We knew Travis would need to meet BHD but them handling all travel arrangements was surprising to us and took this trip to another level. In the Twilight Zone of confusion.

Fairly quickly a BHD representative reached out via email and asked if they could contact Travis later that afternoon and verified the cell phone given to them. Travis confirmed he'd be available and we waited. We had so many questions. What was this specific trip about? Would it be the only trip we would get to take before making a decision? Would I be included in this trip or would I need to book separate airfare- at the same time Trav was traveling (and last minute) or at another time together,at our own expense?

 At 10pm that evening, Travis's phone lit up with an email, from the BHD team, notifying him that they had been trying to reach out all evening and unfortunately had been receiving a busy signal. They confirmed the number. We panicked. First impressions are everything and this was not a good one. Travis quickly replied, apologizing that there must be an error. We tested his phone several times from other lines, and it seemed to be ringing. Travis gave his office number for the morning, in case that was more convenient, and closed again with another apology. However, his office phone didn't ring the next day.

The following evening around 10p, after dinner and reality television had started to set in, Trav's phone rang with an unknown area code and Travis jumped up nervously, knowing it was BHD. He's like me, and wanders around when he's on the phone, so I couldn't hear what was being discussed but I could tell he was using his best "interview" tone. The call didn't last long and afterwards he filled me in on the bare bones that he was able to obtain. The BHD team was going to coordinate for him to fly to the Bahamas to meet with several people on their team. The quick trip would be 3 days and they needed to know how soon he could make arrangements for travel. They advised they would follow up in the next day or so to review dates. And just like that, the list of questions grew exponentially.

We always knew that we would need to make a trip to the Bahamas prior to making a decision to relocate and in all previous talks, it was mentioned that a trip would be arranged for us to tour the island and meet with realtors. But, since this trip was funded and arranged by the Developer and not Trav's hotel group, would there need to be a separate trip for that crucial trip, in six week's time? Trav didn't want to feel presumptuous by asking his Bahamas hotel team "down the line" type questions regarding steps past this upcoming meeting with BHD. He didn't want to ask BHD these type of direct questions, not completely knowing their role in deciding his fate. We tried to wait it out but the questions were like zombies gnawing on our brains. Travis finally sent an email to his contact in the Bahamas and asked our much needed questions. Would there be another return trip to the Bahamas before making our decision? Her answer was No, this was our one-stop shop. She advised that BHD would probably set us up with a realtor to view properties in our "housing allowance budget" and we would get the opportunity for a "city tour" to get a feel for the local salt life. It was confirmed an uncomfortable amount of time later that I would also be included on this trip. Whew!

Just when it seemed that the stressful loose ends were being tied,  Travis received an email noting that he would be receiving flight options the next morning and that he needed to provide passport and DOB information for both of us. We were getting closer to making a decision and we both exhaled in relief. And then, I had a thought that made my heart beat straight out of my chest!


Read Next- #6- Golden Ticket! , Mar 11

#4- The Dark Ages

It took more and more work, as the days passed by, to wake up each day with a new outlook on this place. But it was my only option. Until Trav and I figured out a new place to go, New York was our only home. However, New York was not exactly beckoning me to stay. I felt like obstacles were continuously being placed in my path, just to test me. I was continuously frustrated because I felt like I was just trying to make the most of an increasingly difficult situation. Doors were being slammed all around me and I was quickly becoming a caged animal.

And once in awhile, the tiger would get out of that cage, and unleash holy hell. I started treating every night out in the city like a bottomless brunch and it was not pretty. When my beloved Broncos lost the Super Bowl, it was Apocalyptic. I was not prepared for such devastation. I try my best not to think of that night but once in awhile I will flash back and only see red (& black, from drinking too much) but I have a clear (and disturbing) mental image of myself picking a fight with, let's say a worthy opponent, by yelling the words "... but I bleed Orange and Blue!!". It's okay to laugh now because it's equally hilarious and sad (and I didn't get stabbed) but you can see that I was certainly spiraling dangerously out of control. But it didn't stop there. I was losing my patience with Bob, in public, (more frequently then normal), and possessed a growing personal vendetta against our neighbors over their trash cans. It wasn't just my personal life that was a giant avalanche either.

Continuous snow days that the weatherman could never predict until flakes were already falling, wreaked havoc and chaos throughout my company. And as a result, another hairpin turn, with a pot-hole thrown in; three of my employees gave their notice within 24-hours of each other. I was so bummed, because for the first time, I had finally amassed the perfect team. Though I certainly didn't blame them. To say this record-breaking winter has been brutal is an understatement. They have been such troopers, trekking through storm-after-storm for these pups. My task ahead was daunting, I knew that it would not be easy to cover over 20 dogs in two weeks during the coldest time of the year.

At first I wanted to give up. I wanted to go to bed and just not get up until everything around me fixed itself (wouldn't that be nice?). But my Plan B included running this company, at all costs, until we have another place to go and I was forced to give it up. So that's what I was going to do.

I woke up each day ready to wear an I heart NY t-shirt, and mean it. I had to redefine what I needed right now to make me (and therefore Travis) happy, and stable, in New York. I devoted myself to filling my open positions and not settling on the wrong candidate, even as it became increasing closer to the dead-line. I needed something personally full-filling peppered in, so I started working on another business plan for a food-based company in NYC. As I started working on the business plan, I realized my always present passion for food. Not the unhealthy relationship I have with nachos, believe it or not, I'm actually talking about nutrition. Those who have known me since moving to New York, I'll give you a second to get back to the computer after falling off your chair laughing, but I'm serious. I haven't always put this notion into practice but I have always had a strong interest in the food that we eat and how our bodies biologically process it (Biology major, here) and most importantly, the diseases that the foods we eat are causing and curing. I'm reading the book It Starts With Food and am loving it. Travis and I eat Paleo (no gluten, dairy or processed foods) about 70% of the time which then led me to researching the science of a dog's diet. Since I have lost all of my dogs, my very best friends in life, to lymphoma and one to a heart attack, I am a strong believer that cancer is directly related to packaged dog food. I was pre-vet in college and had worked at a Vet where I attended many seminars on cancer causing agents in over-the-counter dog food. I was finally merging my passion for dogs, nutrition, and food into one giant learning session every day. I was getting my Quality of Life back. The only thing missing was the salt.

And then the phone rang, again.


Read Next #5- Welcome To Wonderland, Mar 10

#3 Deep Freeze equals Major Meltdown

Things started moving fast. It was almost too fast. Before we knew it, it was being thrown around at an Executive's Brunch for Trav's colleagues that Travis was jetting off to the Bahamas. It was crazy and a bit scary. We certainly didn't want to be locked into something just for exploring its possibilities. Further complicating matters, since Travis's work viewed this as a transfer, discussions that addressed anything monetary-related were kept on the back-burner. We kept proceeding through each step of the process thinking there would be something tangible to run with and we were not on the receiving end of valuable information.

Travis spoke to the GM of the new hotel and learned the background of the project and the time-frame. We learned that this position needed to relocate by May. We knew we would need to break our lease and would have limited time to tie up loose ends. Travis asked about housing and was advised that she lived in a great community with a lot of expatriate families and that there were a few housing developments to choose from that were all close to work. Their informative conversation was followed quickly with follow up conversations with others from the new Bahamas hotel. Each shared a piece of their experience relocating to the Bahamas and wanted to hear all about Trav. As the potential slowly materialized, we started to see this as a viable opportunity and we started to get excited. We started to tell our friends and family the crazy opportunity we were considering. We vowed to keep a level head throughout the process and make a decision that made the most sense. After sharing our experience, we heard of others that had taken on the same adventure and highly recommended it. It was proposed that the Bahamas, being tax-free, would be the perfect start we needed to save money to start our lives and family. The housing allowance would allow us to save a lot of money. Let's be honest, there's not many places that are more expensive then New York so all the talk of higher costs for gas, groceries, and duty tax mean little to us.

The phone conversations progressed to face-to-face conversations, when Trav met with a Bahamas HR team member in New York. It was explained that things would stall through the Holidays, so not to worry if the process didn't take up steam again until January (It was November). We felt like we were chasing our tails a bit but the Holidays seemed to be the right thing to take our mind off of everything for awhile.

We wanted to start planning just in case this came to fruition but with no talk of relocation finances that was impossible. We were just waiting. And then the cold set in.

Of course this is the year that we are suffering from record cold temperatures and snow levels. It has been unbearable. I have learned things this winter that no Cali girl should ever have to know. Our pipes have frozen and busted, I've shoveled more snow then an Eskimo, and I've set off a fire alarm with steam from the shower, just trying to defrost. Get me the fuck out of here (sorry, I'm having flash backs). We've lived through the Blizzard of 2010 and now this! I am officially done. Just like the cold finding its way into my bones, the panic started to seep into my subconscious. Prior to the Bahamas, Trav and I were having healthy discussions about leaving New York and were open to exploring new options. Then, the Bahamas trounced through in her bikini, stole all of our attention, and we had not come up with a Plan B. We had promised our loved ones we were going to be smart about this, and we were not being smart.

The Holidays came and went, and in mid January a new player had entered the playing field. We won't confuse things with titles and explanations but we'll call her Shellie and she's high up on the food chain in the Food & Beverage sector of Trav's hotel group. She asked Trav for a meeting because she had an exciting update. "Exciting" is always good. We were hopeful this would be the conversation that would start everything in motion again and rescue us from this awful purgatory. Shellie told Travis that the reason his progression had previously been held up these past few months, was because of a formality in the contract between Trav's hotel group in the Bahamas and the complex developer, which we'll call BHD  (Bahamas Hotel Developer, creative, I know). Basically, the governing property, BHD has a commitment to the Bahamian Government to provide a certain number of local jobs. With that said, they naturally need to limit the number of jobs that are given to expatriates throughout all of the hotels on property. And to add a political spin, the less expats the other hotels hire, the more ex-pats the BHD team is allowed to hire for their own hotel property that is also located on the complex grounds. Do you smell the contradiction I'm cooking? Good.

The formality that Shellie was referencing was the requirement of potential expatriate candidates of all hotels on property to meet the BHD team for approval, prior to being hired. If you see this as a bit counter-productive to meet with a team that has a vested interest in you NOT getting the job, you catch on fast. Hence the "hold up" as Trav's hotel searched another route. But Shellie was there to save the day because they found a loop hole in the contract that would negate this requirement, therefore, we were good to go with the next step. Travis left the meeting looking forward to hearing from her within the week to schedule the much needed trip to the Bahamas to finally get the answers we've been waiting for!

And then one of life's sharp turns. Shellie advised a couple of weeks later that they had the contract reviewed by another source and they were, in fact, mistaken. They were not able to get around meeting with the BHD team and this would further delay the process as BHD had little incentive to speed this along. This door was closing. I was bummed and confused. The longer this process took, the less time Trav and I would have to put an entire move together and that made the opportunity increasingly stressful and therefore, unappealing.  I could not wrap my head around the reasoning behind all of this in the first place. Why had this opportunity been dropped on our door step just to lead us down a rabbit hole for several months? It didn't make sense.

I was done. I was tired, and cold, and I needed to get out of New York. I started to feel trapped, I started to feel helpless. Weeks went by and soon it had been another month without hearing anything. I was doing my best to keep everything in stride but driving in the snow, and shoveling the snow, day-after-day with no end in sight was starting to eat at my sanity. I didn't realize it at the time but as my disdain for the city and winter grew, my dependance on a scape goat grew even more. And when an innocent night at Taco Tuesday ended with me crying in my closet (a major downgrade from crying in the shower), I knew I had officially hit rock bottom.

I called my best friend the next morning for advice. I had gotten so turned around in my head, I didn't know what I wanted any more. She helped me realize that Trav and I needed a new plan. We didn't have a Plan B. It was time to focus on Plan B

Read Next: #4- The Dark Ages, Mar 03

#2 Will Work For Shells...

I guess I could be called somewhat of a free spirit and admittedly it's hard for me to stay in one place though I haven't always been this way. I was perfectly content after living in San Diego for 20 years, yet, when the opportunity to live in Manhattan dropped in my lap, I didn't hesitate. In six short weeks, I was gone. Again, I believe in signs and when one door opens that widely, it's hard not to run straight through it.

I knew the day I stepped foot onto the island of Manhattan in 2008 that I belonged here. A subsequent series of opening and closing of doors then led me through the best years of my life: opening my own business and meeting my husband. Trav and I had such exciting times in Hoboken, yet, when Hurricane Irene took our apartment, I knew it was a sign that it was time to move on. The yellow brick road then led our lost souls straight to the quaint beach town of Long Beach, New York and we knew instantly that we had found our new home. Our hearts beat strong here for a couple of years and then a few harsh winters put a freeze on our summer-lovin. The feelings of belonging had slowly faded and I began to feel like I was watching the facade of New York crumble away and what was being revealed was its underbelly, and it was wearing on me. I was praying for a sign. I was praying for an open door that would lead us out of New York.

The sign came while I was in the shower, of all places. Trav called, as he does every night as he was walking to the train. I asked him how his day was and he then asked how my day was, even though every day is exactly the same. It's the married couples' dance that occurs in households across America between 6 and 8p. But tonight, our normal changed. He mentioned that the VP of Operations had randomly reached out to him to offer him the possibility of becoming the new Food & Beverage Director of their new property in the Bahamas. We were both vaguely familiar with the project.

Rewind.

We were sitting at a table in Kauai, while on our honeymoon, waiting for the Luau to begin, when a colorful southern couple, *Janet and *Roger, joined our table. Janet was the type that lit up a room by smiling from ear-to-ear. Roger smiled from ear-to-ear too, but more in an endearing, silly way, or like he had just raided the mini bar when no one was looking. They then became that couple that seems to have your exact daily itinerary at the resort. We constantly bumped into them and wound up chatting for long periods of time. Oddly enough, they kept a boat in the Bahamas full-time and made frequent trips. I listened to their island escapades with such envy! It sounded like the life you only dream about! In other words, the life that other people live. Roger owned car dealerships across the US and a younger looking Janet, called him "Daddy" and not the "related" kind. They mentioned that they had just been invited guests to a star-studded ground breaking event for a new conglomerate of hotels that's revolutionizing the Carribean. They looked at models and plans for the project and said it was going to be amazing. They couldn't stop talking about how incredible the property was. Travis and I knew the hotel group he currently worked for was working on a high-profile project in the Bahamas and remarked on the coincidence. I now have a feeling that won't be the last time we toast Janet and Daddy poolside...
*names changed to protect the innocent (or possibly married) ...

Fast Forward

I hung up the phone with Travis and stood in the shower a little longer. The gravity of such an incredible opportunity falling in our laps enveloped me like hot steam. I had been praying for a way out and this seemed like a perfect answer, but I tried my best not to get overwhelmed with my emotions. I needed to think logically about such an undertaking so I took to Google.

That night, before Trav got home, I learned all about the Bahamas from a different perspective. I Googled "Dog Quarantine" in Nassau, which if present, would've killed the deal immediately. And each Google search led me to another new discovery and began to get me excited about a potential new chapter in our Salt Life.

When Travis got home that evening, we talked about everything we could think of. We couldn't find one solid red flag so we made the decision to take one step through the newly opened door. Maybe it really is, Better in the Bahamas...

Read Next #3- Deep Freeze equals Major Meltdown, Mar 01