The Beginning. Or the Middle of the Beginning

I tend to find myself in crazy situations. And now I was standing there wondering how I had ended up with a demon three year old and a 40 year old Filippino housekeeper, at a summer resort in Greece watching really rich mothers watch the hot tennis instructor teach their children. Yes, I had ended up in some weird Greek Desperate Housewives.
Let’s start at the beginning. Well, not the very beginning, but the beginning of this trip. I never intended to start a blog. Frankly, I’m not very good at it. It sounds like a pain to type up all this junk everyday. But so many weird random things keep happening in my life I kind of need to keep a record. So we’ll start here, where I am, and maybe go backwards sometimes.
I was on my way to Greece. I am a 23 year-old college graduate. I just got done doing a year of AmeriCorps in Alaska, and I thought it sounded like fun. I would go live with a nice family, watch their kids, and in exchange I would get a room, all meals, and live right in the middle of a new fun country. So, I started off this Monday morning leaving my mom and dad at the airport and getting to my gate in plenty of time. You should know before I go on that it has been made abundantly clear to me that I am some sort of airport jinx. I hate the whole deal- I hate airports, they’re big and dumb and you just wait and wait with nothing to do. Then you get on a giant metal object that’s supposed to stay thousands of feet in the air based on science? Am I the only one who questions the sanity of that. I hate security checklines, I hate all the regulations, to me there is nothing fun about air travel. Well, I guess airports are a lot like wolves in that they can smell fear and will attack the weak ones. That’s really the only explanation I can come up with for incredibly unlucky streak at airports.