Driving Miss Crazy

No one can drive me crazier than I can drive myself. It's a more direct route and I get there a lot faster. Take my vacation plans. Please.

Last week I set a new goal for myself. I want to spend my birthday in a more exotic location than Minnesota -- out of the state, out of the country. Doesn't matter. I just want to be somewhere else. Don't even ask how I came to that decision. It's not even one of those landmark birthdays with a zero as the second digit. It sounded like a good idea at the time.

So did taking a Mediterranean cruise. I've never been on a cruise before; never wanted to go on one. Traveling on a ship that's bigger than the ports it visits seemed wrong somehow. I mean, the Mall of America is fun to visit, but the thought of spending two weeks living on its floating counterpart was intimidating. Still, a lot of my friends love 'em and I was warming up to the idea, mostly because it seemed an easy way to see a lot of countries in a short amount of time.

I approached the planning as I do everything. With lots of research. I've been an information junkie since before Al Gore invented the Internet. In the early days, I used the library. Now I have information on every cruise ship in the world at the click of a mouse. I explored itineraries and prices. I read reviews. I learned the personalities of each cruise line. I learned the lingo. I spent every free hour doing my due diligence until I had it narrowed down to two cruise lines.

Not satisfied, I made a quick trip to the library. I picked up a book -- The Unofficial Guide to Cruise Ships-- with the hopes it would help me choose the right cruise line. The book looked harmless enough, but I think it was written by a secret cruise hater. Instead of getting me excited about going on a cruise, it confirmed what I had known all along. Cruising is not for me.

I still want to take that trip. Still want to be gone on my birthday. Now I just have to figure out where and how. Back to the drawing board.