Vacation, All I Ever Wanted...

 

It was a blustery, overcast February morning when some of my colleagues and I gathered at the bustling Hector International Airport to board our little puddle-jumper. According to our pilot, the air temp was 9 degrees. So long, Fargo. Two somewhat turbulent hours later we landed in Denver (a whopping 37 degrees warmer in the Mile High City). A hop, skip & another 2 hours later, we arrived in gorgeous, balmy Phoenix Sky Harbor airport. As we pulled our luggage off the carousel, we walked out the doors and immediately threw our coats in the trash. (ok, we didn't do that, but we felt like doing it!) A half-hour cab ride took us to our aaaaaahmazing resort, just in time for a breathtaking sunset:

The stunning view from in front of our hotel.

We did have to share a room, which scared me a smidge at first, but after getting to know mine better, I couldn't have asked for a better roomie! In fact, I'm pretty thankful because I kindof felt like a gained a new friend. She's one smart and funny lady who put up with my shenanigans all week without complaint! So this hotel is where we'd spend the next 4 days for our Premier National offsite event. Four glorious days, away from the arctic north and savoring the deserts' warmth. Four heavenly days, basking in the sun's rays, soaking up that desperately-needed Vitamin D. Four fabulous days, enjoying the… what? WHAT?!! What do you mean they're not letting us outside ANY of the days? You've. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.

There will be NO enjoying this.

Aah, but alas, they were not kidding me. We unfortunately DID have to spend the majority of our daylight hours in the conference center. The air-conditioned conference center where the air temperature resembled that of… you got it: Fargo. Don't you think it's a little mean to ship 34 poor souls from the tundra down south where it's a good 70 degrees warmer than it is back home, only to make them stay indoors the entire time? We looked like sad little puppies at the pet store, licking the glass, hoping and praying that someone would take pity and let our pasty selves out for corn sake!

the view from our hotel room

But we Fargo people are hearty. We make the best of whatever situation we're put in. And what the hell, at least we weren't stuck in Fargo. So we did what any good North Dakotan would do: we drank a lot of beer. They were feeding it to us for free after all. And it made us care a whole lot less that we only got to go outside after dark. I behaved much like my former college self the entire week -- little sleep, way too much consumption of adult beverages, and having far too much fun with my new friends. I had no kids to wake me up at 6 am, no laundry awaiting, no supper to put on the table, so I suppose I just let loose a little!

The first night at the resort - our "welcome dinner" (i.e. open bar!)

In the evenings, we frequented a local establishment which had no walls. With beach sand under the tables. And tiki torches. And a wading pool. So we pretended we were at the beach. The next morning, we wondered where all that sand came from, but we pressed onward. We hung out in the pool area at midnight, where it was a pleasant 60 degrees. Hotel patrons walked by in jackets and shivered just looking at us, while we laid on the concrete and gazed at the stars while we marveled at how much it resembled Fargo in July -- minus the 7-pound mosquitos.

Pretty cool, huh!?

Nonetheless, the sessions we attended (the reason we were there in the first place!) were actually really fun, and I learned a lot. Plus I met some great colleagues from all over the country, as well as got to know some of my home teammates a lot better.

Me with a couple of the lovely Fargo ladies.

At any rate, they fed our group quite well the entire week, and did some fun stuff for us after-hours too. We had a game night which included casino games, Minute to Win It games, and some major Dance Central throw-downs. During the sessions, they gave away great door prizes (probably to keep us from running away to float down the Lazy River). I was the lucky recipient of a sweet new smartphone… though I had to do a little obliterating to get it. Yes, the crowd eagerly cheered me on as I annihilated my piece of #$&% smart phone (it was a 'competitor' phone OS. Yup, that's a real hammer. Like "we're smashing the competition")

Smashy bang-bang, no more sucky phone for Shanna.

And then this is what it looked like after I asserted my true feelings about its incompetence...

No worries, I got a cool new Samsung Focus for doing this. But I can't use it in Fargo yet (it's AT&T).  Whoopsy. So I've gotta wait until Sprint releases their new Windows Phone 7 next week before I get a new one. (My wicked awesome company is buying it for me. I'll even show ya if you say "pretty please".) I'm phoneless in the meantime, but I'm not missing it one bit so far!

For our mid-week event, they took us to a place called "Rawhide", which was sortof like a cross between Deadwood and Medora (less gambling, more gunfighting). The trip had a little hiccup with our catering order, because instead of having enough food for 150 people they had about enough for 15. So a posse of 135 hungry people (who had also been given free drink tickets, mind you) moseyed on down the dusty trail to the steak house. Where we were promptly turned away. But my clever colleague somehow managed to get us a table, so I was one of the lucky few that got to enjoy a huge steak dinner while the rest of those poor suckers meandered about looking to rustle up a lizard or squirrel for dinner.

The yummiest steak dinner.

We ravenously gobbled up our steaks with guilty consciences (err, maybe not so much) fully expecting to see our counterparts weeping in the streets from hunger when we left the restaurant. Quite the contrary: they found out the bar attached to the steak house was serving $0.25 bottles of Bud Light during happy hour! We had some catching up to do… before I knew it, I was challenging my manager to a mechanical bullride contest, sporting the little $5 pink cowboy hat I had bought for the Princess at the gift store. My smart-ass co-workers stood by and chanted "Rodeo Queen! Rodeo Queen!" as I hopped on my first bull... only to be dumped off 3 seconds later by the a-hole ride operator who thought it would be funny to turn the sucker on full-tilt when I got on. I tried a second time, made it the full 8 and landed on my feet upon dismount just like a good rodeo queen should. Somewhere along the way I had dislocated my thumb, but amidst my lack of sobriety and the adrenaline from my rodeo rendezvous, I must'a missed that little detail.


I may not wear a sparkly sequined shirt anymore, but I've still got a little shine on the ol' crown. 
Not sure if jumping back on a mechanical bull with a busted up thumb was what my Dad meant
when he said, "Cowboy Up and get right back on that horse..."

So when Friday finally rolled around, I was a little torn about leaving. On one hand, it was the best week I'd had in years. On the other hand, I felt like crap and needed about a 12-hour nap. During my "ride of shame" back to the airport, I may have had to ask the chauffeur to pull the town car over so I could, um, hurl at the side of the freeway. Ugh. The rest of the plane ride home was uneventful, and boy was I ever happy to see my two little munkchins (and my one big one too!) when I got back home. 
It was a hell of a week. Rumor has it we'll be doing this offsite once a year. I'm guessing it'll take me exactly that long to recuperate from this year's monkey business.  See what happens when they let me out of the house?