Mediterranean Madness Part I, Getting There

In October 2013, I took my family on a 12 night Mediterranean cruise.  I am posting this review on Cruise Critic so others can benefit from what we learned on this trip.  I've had several requests to post our story in a format that is a little easier to enjoy.  So, I will post this review both on my blog and the Cruise Critic website.  You can find the CC post here.

This is Royal Caribbean's Serenade of the Seas.  Which would be our home for 12 nights.

Part One

The Beginning.  

Just getting out of the gate is a story all on it's own...

Our journey to the Mediterranean began many years before our actual trip, and, by all rights, the trip nearly failed on many occasions.  My wife and I are avid cruisers, having taken our first trip in 2004 on the Rhapsody of the Seas with Royal Caribbean.  We have taken a cruise somewhere almost every year since.  I firmly believe that cruising is the complete package when it comes to vacations.  The world's greatest destinations come to me, and all I have to do to enjoy them is to get out of bed, all the while eating the finest cuisines, drinking the smoothest Scotch, viewing the finest art, and smiling with the perfect wife.  Going to sleep in one continent and waking up in another is a privilege that I don't enjoy casually.

While enjoying our second Alaska cruise, which happened to be the Rhapsody again, my wife, Sarah, and I discussed our future cruising plans.  We rather enjoyed cruising in the company of Sarah's grandparents, who are excellent travel partners, and I discussed taking a Galapagos trip with Papaw.  Unfortunately, he went on to his reward  before we could cruise again.  So, Sarah and I decided that we had enjoyed 7 night cruises so much that we would really enjoy a longer cruise.  But where to go?  We found a lack of interesting cruises in the States that excited us, so we concluded that we simply had to commit to a Mediterranean experience.  Essentially, our October 2013 cruise began in 2009, while skirting the edge of Hubbard Glacier.  We just needed to put a plan together.

 

Sarah's Cruise Bible

Sarah is the consummate planner, who can't seem to go to Walmart without a trip planner, which is neatly bound into a binder, which becomes the Bible.  If you're only going to Walmart, this is overkill.  However, if you are going on a cruise, it is the most important thing, second only to your airline tickets.  My ADD forbids me from obsessing about petty details such as points of contact for an excursion, or the dates of the cruise itself.  I am truly blessed to have an obsessive planner in my life. 

Well, my excessive planner started researching European cruises in 2009 and we began to make plans.  We knew it was going to cost a fortune, and one of us would have to sell a kidney in order to make it work.  (Fortunately, one of our three kids was a perfect match for a Russian mob boss, who paid us cash, no questions asked.  Consequently, Annabelle will not be attending the cruise because she can't leave the closet, where she has lived quietly for several years now.)  By 2010, we had a rough idea what we wanted from the trip, so we began making actual plans.  In between, we went on a Disney cruise to Cabo, and a Carnival trip to Cozumel, and the Mayan ruins in Progresso.  I will never, ever, sail with Carnival again, but that is a post for a different day. 

We knew we wanted to visit France, Italy, and Greece, and I wanted to throw in someplace like Austria or Hungary, but I suppose the country actually has to connect to the Sea before you can cruise to it.  Go figure!  We also knew that there are only certain companies we are willing to cruise with, and Royal Caribbean is one of them.  So, now we were down to actually selecting a ship and an itinerary.  Only...we knew we couldn't afford such a trip unless we allowed plennnnnty of time to budget it into our vacation portfolio.  We simply couldn't get the cruise companies to publish their itineraries 3 years in advance.  I'll talk to the Captain about that when I get a chance.  You can count on it!

In 2012, my wife was at a family reunion in Las Vegas and mentioned the cruise.  Several of her family members gathered around and began a long discussion that turned into a planning session, which turned into an actual ship name and itinerary.  Looks like we were going to have company on our 2013 vacation! In the end, we had a party of 15 which included Sarah's parents, sister and brother-in-law, and many of her brother-in-law's family.

Now we have a great ship and an equally incredible itinerary, which will make this trip unforgettable.  How can you go wrong with Barcelona, Cannes, Florence, Naples, Rome, Athens, Turkey, and the Greek Isles?  Talk about the ultimate in awesome ports, not to mention Europe and Asia, plus the coast of Africa off the port bow!  This trip is gonna rock!  Now we only have to pay for it...

Well, as one might rightly conclude, getting from Northern Idaho to Barcelona is not so simple unless you have a genie in your closet.  And I'm fresh out of genies.  Remember, we had to move our third child into the closet after that kidney donation?  Kidding!  Bad joke.  Not true!  We never actually had her in the closet, it's more like a bonus room in the attic.

Well, we began setting money aside for our airline tickets, as that was almost as much as our cruise tickets.  Sarah spent countless hours planning and comparing, and she finally found what seemed to offer the best choice for our family of four.  And the tickets were only about 1200.00 each.  Not too bad for 18 hours of flying, right?  I mean, that's less than a hundred dollars an hour.  We knew once we bought those tickets, we were committed, and I mean totally committed, bottom dollar, sink or swim, ride 'em cowboy, Oregon or bust! Committed.  We fully intended on making this trip.  And the longer we waited to buy airline tickets, the more expensive it was going to be.  So, we pulled the trigger.  We were on our way!  The trip was actually going to happen!

And then it happened.  Of course, you saw it coming.  I mean, after all, who builds this much suspense if nothing is going to happen, right?  Well, I'm certain most of you will recognize the following word: sequestration.

I don't normally discuss my work, but at that time I was a federal employee when President Obama began talking about shutting down the government in his battle with the Republican's over his non-existing budget.  I can still hear the words the President spoke when he said, "The American people need to experience pain..." We got notice that I was going to be furloughed just a few weeks after we bought the airline tickets.  Tickets, by the way, that have to be used within one year of purchase, or they are forfeited.  Initially, I was told that I would be furloughed for up to 25 days, which ultimately would result in about 40% drop in my income.  That's a pretty tough hit, no matter what your income is, and I was about to find out just how tough it was going to be.  We notified our family that there was no way we could afford the cruise with my pay cut so severely, and we pulled out of the trip.  We decided we were just going to lose the money for the flights.  There was no way around it.

It was so sad to tell the kids that we were cancelling the trip, and it really hit home when Sarah stopped researching because she couldn't bring herself to make plans for a trip that was not going to happen.  We had already paid for a few tours, and we, after planning each port call carefully, even generously extended our tours to the family in order to bring the price down.  And now we were pulling out, which was going to leave everyone else in a lurch.

Well, the American conservatives began to make phone calls and write letters to Congress, and my pay was reinstated -- almost.  I still suffered a 5% income loss, but that was multitudes better than the 40% I was about to lose.  So, our trip was back on! 

The next set back occurred three and a half weeks before the trip.  I was visiting a friend of mine who was remodeling her house.  She removed the banisters from around her staircase, leaving the staircase well wide open, like a black hole.  I was taking the nickel tour at her behest and, while inspecting her crown molding, I stepped backward into that stairwell.  And when I say backwards, I mean I took the Nestea plunge.  My friend described it as one of those falls you take when at a team/confidence building conference where you fall backwards and your buddies are supposed to catch you.  But in my instance, there was no one, just empty space and a wooden staircase waiting for me.  I fell 12 feet backwards and the first thing that hit was my head, and then my back slammed into the stairs, and then I slid down to the bottom, my head hitting every step on the way.

I was addled, but fully conscious.  I wasn't sure what happened, but I knew something horrible happened.  I've had major surgeries in my life, and I relate that state of distortion to the sensation of coming out of surgery and not remembering that you went under the knife.  The air was knocked out of me, and I spent several hours trying to breathe again.  Well, it was probably only a minute, but it felt like an eternity.  Once I caught my breath, I was able to stand, and to walk, and talk.  I was lucky just to be alive.

I went home an hour or two later and broke to news to my wife, who was slightly perturbed at me for falling backwards down a staircase, as if I wasn't already feeling bad about the whole matter.  I went to bed that night wondering what my world would look like in the morning. 

I take blood thinners due to a heart condition I have, and I was extremely worried that I was suffering from internal bleeding, plus the high probability that I could have an aneurysm in my brain.  The back of my head was swollen to the point that I looked as though I had a rump roast under my hair.  Not only that, I really felt bad.

Time would prove that the only significant injury sustained in the fall was the three broken ribs on my left side.  I slept in the recliner for the rest of my time before leaving on our dearly needed vacation.  Our vacation?  Who was I kidding? I had already missed a full week of work, 9 days, to be specific, and I couldn't walk without taking Valium to keep my back muscles from spasming, causing me devastating, debilitating, disabling pain in my broken ribs.  

This photo of my lower back was taken on day 7 once the swelling went down and only the bruise remained.  Looks like an awesome tramp stamp!

Sarah was watching her vacation evaporate before her eyes, but I boldly declared to her that I would not let this minor setback ruin her trip.  I just needed some time to recover.  I still had roughly 12 more days before we had to leave.  I just needed to sit in my recliner and not die.

Guess what happened next?  October the First.  That's what happened next.  And what happened on the first day of October, you might be asking?  Well, I'll tell you.  The Federal government shut down.  The words that echoed the loudest was FURLOUGH all non-essential government workers, and CANCEL all leave (vacation time, for you civilians) until the government passes a budget.  This included sick leave, emergency leave, vacation, etc...  Well.  As Chester Riley used to say, "Ain't this a revolting development?" 

It turns out that I was an essential employee, so I was granted the honor of working without the promise of pay while President Obama continually repeated his determination not to negotiate with the Republicans.

I went to my boss, who was aware of my pending vacation in less than 8 days, and he said he would grant me a waiver because I was so heavily invested in the trip.  This is a good place to insert a plug for TRIP INSURANCE.  Don't leave home without it, especially if you are planning a 20,000 dollar European vacation.  And now, back to the story...  My boss told me that I could still go, but I would forfeit any back pay for my vacation time.  Well, this day just keeps getting better, eh?

Sarah and I discussed the situation over an empty box of Kleenexes and made a hard decision.  We did have trip insurance, but it was limited. It only covered a portion of the money we had already invested.  I could forfeit my pay or I could forfeit what I had already spent money on for the last year.  It was all sunshine and lollypops at my house that day!  Then, the rumor surfaced that Congress was going to pass an emergency relief bill to pay the furloughed employees, so we decided that we would roll the dice and hope for the best.  As I write these words, I am on a Delta flight and looking down at Lake Erie (I can type without looking at my fingers).  As of today, the bill hasn't passed, and I still don't know if I'm bankrupt.  I'll find out soon enough.  But let's get back to the trip before I digress any further.  Before I don't digress, let me take a moment and tell you that eventually congress and the President got together and agreed to create a continuing resolution, which paid all Federal employees for the time we were furloughed.  Just thought I'd get that out of the way.  And now I continue my review...in the next post!

Part I Getting there

Part II Barcelona

Part III Barcelona Continued

Part IV France

Part V Livorno, Pisa, and Florence, Italy

Part VI Rome

Part VII Sea Day

Part VIII Turkey

Part IX Athens 

Part X Santorini 

Part XI Sea Day 

Part XII Italy: Positano, Sorento, Amalfi Coast, and Pompeii 

Part XIII Sea Day

Part XIV Back to Barcelona

Part XV The Journey Home and Final Thoughts

The Wedding Log

Thank you for stopping by.  I know the last short story I offered was silly and less than entertaining.  But this story will not be silly.  But as for entertaining, you will have to determine that for yourself.  We all have dark recesses within us.  And Hans and Jennifer are now facing the darkness.  Share with me your reactions, if you would. -- Travis W. Inman

The Wedding Log

Hans rubbed his jaw and stared at the aspirin sitting on his breakfast plate, wishing he had some coffee to wash the pill down.  His unshaven face felt rougher than normal, but that seems to happen to him whenever he rolled around in his bed all night without sleeping properly.  He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, hoping his headache didn't develop into a full blown migraine, but the tightness in his jaw foretold his future.

Finally, Jennifer filled his coffee cup and asked, "Did you find your pill?"

"Yes, thank you."  His German accent was hardly noticeable.  He was born and raised in the States; his father was the immigrant, not him.  But he still had a distant hint of his father's accent, especially when he was angry.  He reached for the aspirin and deliberately placed it on the back of his tongue, swallowing only when he had enough coffee to ensure the pill's safe delivery.  The bitter aftertaste seemed to suit him this morning.

He tried to read his newspaper while Jennifer scuttled about the kitchen from the frying pan to the toaster, but even the morning comics seemed dull and flat.  Didn't they used to be funnier?  He missed the Far Side, which was always funny.  But now he was living in the far side, and it isn't as much fun when it's real life.

Jennifer refilled his coffee and asked through a thin smile, "Is the caffeine starting to help, Honey?"  Of course, she knew it wasn't going to help.  He rarely got himself so worked up—anymore.  He tossed all night, and the few times he drifted off he ground his teeth, making those horrible nut cracking pops.  All night long.  Neither of them got any rest.  She poured herself a cup and sat across from him.  It was her place to sit, as it always had been from their early years.  They sat with Cassie between them when she was first born, and they never altered their seating arrangements from that day forward.  She reflected over her coffee for a moment longer, and then returned to the stove top, where the ham slices were starting to crisp on the edge, just the way Hans liked them.

He fussed with the paper a moment longer and then seemed to lose the strength to hold it up, allowing it to crumple in his lap.  Jennifer refilled his cup again.  This was going to be a two pot morning.  She dropped the first egg into the skillet and reached for the second before cautiously asking, "So, what are you going to do today?"

The paper snapped back to attention.  "I'm not going to the wedding.  That's what I'm going to do today."  He crumpled the paper like an accordion and shoved it into Cassie's chair.

Jennifer knew the answer, but she needed to hear him say it.  How many days could he brew about the same thing?  It had been months now, and she was starting to worry that Hans was going to suffer a stroke from the anxiety, which he wore like a night shirt, keeping it close to his heart, from the day Cassie announced her wedding plans with Alex.  They feared the wedding announcement because they already knew she was dating Alex.  They'd heard the rumors coming to them from their friends that she had met someone—and they were serious. 

Jennifer knew Hans hated himself for insisting that she go to California to college.  He was so proud when his daughter was accepted into law school; he bragged to anyone who would listen about his soon-to-be-lawyer daughter.  Oh, they had their moments, but his pride in his daughter was a constant for him, even when she was "expressing herself" in her teen years.  Hans was a stubborn man, and he had his rules.  How often had she cringed when he would shout at Cassie, "My house!  My rules!"  Jennifer knew how Cassie felt trapped in her last few years of high school.  Hans felt it was his duty to interview his daughter's suitors, and wasn't beneath issuing mild threats about how those young boys were to treat his daughter. 

Cassie was just as stubborn.  In fact, they were peas in pod.  They loved each other, but they frustrated each other so much that their relationship was confusing to everyone.  And Jennifer always felt as though she was the referee, constantly tossing out a yellow penalty flag when one of them overstepped and said something noxious.  Jennifer had always managed to bring them back together.  She could handle Hans, for she was the love of his life, and she could handle Cassie, for Cassie was always her little girl.  And now her little girl was going to get married.  To Alex.

The day they met Alex was difficult.  Hans was overly stubborn that evening, even though they met at a neutral site, but Hans wasn't going to like anyone Cassie brought home.  Her choices just didn't suit him.  And Alex was never going to win his approval.  Jennifer had to admit that Alex was a difficult person to like, and she herself struggled at dinner that night, each person trying to be civil, showing plenty of teeth, but not many laughs.  Cassie insisted they meet Alex before the wedding, which they did.  Alex tried to be polite, but there was little hope for things to work out right.  Hans would never approve.  And that was not going to change.

Jennifer remembered how Hans had wept that night sitting in front of the TV.  The only other time she'd seem him so emotional was when his father died.  On both of those nights she held him while he sobbed, the tears were flowing freely.  He was grieving Cassie's wedding as if it were her funeral.  And as far as he was concerned it was her funeral.  "When your children are small, they walk on your toes," he lamented.  "But when they are grown, they walk on your heart," and then he wept until he had nothing left to cry with.  Hans seemed so pathetic that night and the very memory of it brought tears to her eyes today.  She knew he blamed himself.  Hans knew that he tended to push Cassie away.  He just didn't know how to be a father to a girl who was as bull headed as himself.  When a child makes bad choices because the parents made bad choices, the pain those parents feel…the regret…seems to be a sorrow that can't be soothed.  Regret can be a hard pillow at night.  Self inflicted wounds hurt the most, and they bleed the longest. 

Jennifer dropped two perfectly cooked eggs onto his plate, along with two slices of toast and a thick ham steak.  It was his breakfast for more than 25 years.  As always, he waited a moment until Jennifer had assembled her plate and settled into her chair before uttering grace.  But today, grace didn't seem genuine. 

"Your brother isn't going to the wedding, either," Jennifer said casually.

He was busy slicing his eggs into tiny pieces.  "And he shouldn’t go.  It wouldn't be right."

"Do you realize that if we don't go, then no one from her family will be there?"

"How can we go?  How can we witness her marrying that…"  He reached for the salt and forced himself to relax.  "Alex is not fit for her to marry."

"Honey, I know.  I don't want her to marry Alex, either.  But she is going to do it, whether we like it or not."

Now the pepper.  "I wouldn't endorse her wedding under any circumstances.  They were sleeping together.  They were living together.  That…" his voice was hard, angry.  "That…"  He closed his eyes and practiced his counting technique.  "Alex had no business in her bed."

"I know," she said quietly.  "And I agree with you."

"It is sin," he said flatly.  "It is a horrible sin."  He lifted his fork and dripped egg yolk on the white table cloth.  "How can we show our faces at church?  What they have done is an abomination."  He looked down into his coffee.  "How can I endorse that?  Hmmm?  Tell me, how can I endorse an abomination?"

Jennifer buttered her toast.  "Hans, you can't endorse their sin.  I know that."  She took a small bite and placed it on her plate.  "I think only Alex's brother will be there.  And maybe some of her college friends."

"Well, I won't be there."  He waited for a response, but it never came.  For the first time since she sat down he looked directly at her.  "You aren't going to be there, are you?"  His concern was obvious.

Jennifer sipped her coffee before responding.  "She is my daughter, and I love her very much."

He slammed his hand on the table, rattling the silverware.  "I love her, too!" he growled.  "But I can't endorse this disaster."

"I can't turn my back on her, even if I don't approve."

"Well," he said through a large bite of ham.  "As far as I'm concerned, she is no longer our daughter.  Not if she marries Alex today."

Jennifer reached for the salt.  "Is that so?"

He clinched his jaw and fought the tears.  "I have no choice.  She had deliberately turned her back on our family.  On our beliefs.  On our…faith."

"I don't think Alex will last long," She observed.

"It matters not.  Once she says, 'I do,' then I don't.  I don't want to see her again, or allow her into this house with that…"  His lips curled in frustration and he closed his eyes and breathed.  "They are not allowed into my house together.  Ever.  And that's final.  Do you understand?"

She swallowed her bite of eggs.  "Well, let's not make statements that we have to regret later."

"What else can I do?  I have to be true to my convictions."

"Hans, she is our daughter.  She is my little Cassandra.  She is your pride and joy.  How can you just shut her out?"

"This marriage is an abomination."

"Yes, you've established that.  But when I go to the wedding, I am not endorsing her choices; I am showing my love for my daughter."

Hans knew he couldn't stop Jennifer from going.  It would be futile for him to try.  They never had a relationship where he lorded over her.  He always respected her individuality, even though they were a very traditional family.  Honestly, he wasn't surprised that she was going to the wedding.  Finally he said, "Well, if Papa was still alive, this would kill him.  It would put him in his grave."

"Yes, I suspect you're right about that.  He was a very stubborn man."

"Jennifer," he said quietly.  "Please don't go to the wedding.  Please respect my wishes."

Jennifer was silent for a long moment while she spread jam on her toast.  "Hans, I do respect your wishes.  I am not endorsing her choices, or even saying that I'm okay with it.  But, she is my daughter, and I love her unconditionally."

"But our faith," he pleaded.  "What about our faith?"

"Yes," she redirected.  "What about our faith?"  She closed the jar in her hand.  "What about our faith tells you that you can demonstrate God's love by turning your back on them?  How does that reflect our faith?"

"No!"  He pointed at her.  "Do not twist this around!  Their sin is clearly sin."

"I know that.  And that is between them and God.  We are not the ones who died to forgive them, Hans.  Their sin is not against us, but it is against God.  And Jesus himself accepted sinners.  He sat with them, and He ate with them.  He didn't simply shut them out because they were sinners.  You're faith should reflect His values, not yours.  What would Jesus do, Hans?"

He poked the edge of his ham steak and didn't respond.

"By being at that wedding, we are not saying that we approve of her choices.  We are saying that we love our daughter.  She already knows that we disapprove.  But when we arrive, she will also know that we still love her."

"They are still not welcome in my home."  He was still angry.  "In fact, we are going to turn her bedroom into a sewing room.  You've always wanted a sewing room, and now you have one."

"We are not going to do that.  We aren't going to change anything for at least a year.  And you can get off of your pedestal, Mister.  You know good and well that if Jennifer and Alex knock on that door you will let them in."

"Well," he rubbed his jaw.  "They aren't sleeping together.  And I'm not budging on that."

"Fine."  She refilled both of their cups.  "Right now you are offended.  Right now you are upset.  And so am I.  But over the years God has changed who you are, just as He has me.  Neither of us were perfect when we got married…"

"But this is different."

She stood and looked down at him.  "You and I both know that we didn't wait for our wedding night."

Hans's cheeks flushed.  "Well…"

"We almost made it."  She smiled and shook her head.  "One night short.  If my mother knew!"  She blew into her coffee.  "We waited until the night before we were married.  Does that make us sinners?"

He sighed.  "Well, you have to understand…"

"No, Hans.  Did that make us fornicators?"

He squirmed in his chair.  "Yes.  And I have regretted that for all these years."

"And would my mother have allowed us to visit in her home if she knew?"

His voice was smaller.  "Not on your life.  But this is different."

"Sin is sin, Hans.  We made mistakes, and God gave us a clean start.  Cassie is making mistakes, but God can give her a clean start, also.  But she is much less likely to turn to God for help if we use our religion as a crowbar to wedge her out of our lives.  Why would anyone want to seek help from a God when we are demonstrating that kind of faith?  It is the goodness of God that leads us to repent, right?  Cassie knows what we believe.  We raised her with the same set of values.  We have to let God work on her in His own way.  And we will love her and support her, no matter what she does."

"But what if she robs a bank?  Hmmm?  What if she kills a nun?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes.  "Really?  Hans?  What would Jesus do?  He would love us, no matter what we did.  We are to follow His example and reflect His love.  And there is a big difference between faith and religion.  What you are demonstrating is religion.  And I know you better than that.  You are a better man than that.  You have deeper faith than that.  So don't let your emotions rule your faith."

"But…" he was stubborn to the end.

"But, what?  Hans, you love Cassie.  Don't you?"

A tear formed in his eye.  "Of course."  He allowed Jennifer to touch his eye with a napkin.  "But I don't love Alex."

Jennifer thought about that for a moment.  "Okay.  I don't like her either.  But we will both work on that.  And God will lead us through, right?"

He resigned with a heavy sigh.  She was right, and he knew it.  He placed his napkin on his plate and stood.

"Where are you going?  You haven't finished your breakfast."

"I need to polish my shoes.  The last time I wore them they got scuffed.  And Papa would roll over in his grave if I went to a wedding with scuffed shoes."

Stills is Right

"If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with."  Most of you will recognize these lyrics to a 1970 song written and sung by Steve Stills, of Crosby, Stills, and Nash fame.

I heard this song on the radio that other day, and like the theme song to the Brady Bunch, I can't seem to get it out of my head.  The song irritates me for a number of reasons, one of which is the thought it instills in me that you're not with the one you love.  Which seems sad.

 But, the more I thought about those lyrics, I realized that there is some value in what Stills was trying to say.  But, not in the romance department—in the thanksgiving department.  This is the holiday season, and I see so many people tweeting and offering Facebook thanksgiving thoughts and wishes to each other.  And then it occurred to me that none of our lives turned out exactly as we imagined, or even wished.  I was going to be an astronaut, or a fighter pilot, or a four star general, or Indiana Jones.  Most men will understand what I mean.  We all grow up with images of cowboys in gunfights, or soldiers storming the enemy, and we identify with those ideals, and desire to live them.  For women, I suppose it might be the Cinderella fairy tale wedding, complete with fairy dust and Prince Charming.  I sincerely doubt that any of us got exactly what we imagined—and that most of us got something entirely different.  After all, who plans on becoming a data input specialist or a paper salesman with Dunder Mifflin?  To those who managed to live your dream, I offer you hearty congratulations.  

But what about those who didn't get what they wanted?  Those who ended up marrying their worst enemy?  In those situations, I think Stills may have been on to something.  Love the one your with.  Your situation might not be ideal, but it is your situation.  Moaning and crying about it won't change anything.  You can't control many things, but you can control your attitude about your circumstances.  

Take me for example.  14 years ago I was bankrupt.  That wasn't one of my life goals, or, I suppose I should use the phrase, on my bucket list.  Nonetheless, I had to stand before a judge and have him dissolve all of my debts because I failed to live responsibly with my finances.  This isn't really something you want to write home about. Bragging about your shame never seems right.

But… Love the one your with.

I am thankful.  

No matter how bad your situation is, it could always be worse.  Maybe it's time to re-examine your life and find those things you can love.  You might not be living your dreams, but that doesn't mean you can't.  Maybe it's time to think about it this way: If you can't live the life you love, love the life you have.