International travel is a beautiful thing. International travel for work... well, it ain't so bad except for the working part. Or except for when your Mr.'s celly is out of order. Mr. Soup works in the telecommunications industry and, according to me, is quite good at his job. I'm envious that it includes the occasional jaunt to Europe, Asia and even Australia. However, 'tain't so cool when the little lady is left at home with no husband-related celly contact. I've been fine for the most part thus far, but I'm about fed up. Plus, I just can't understand why an international TELECOM COMPANY can't seem to make a cell phone work. Dial S for stupid (or schtew-pid, as the English would say.) Hmmmph. Only a little while longer. I suppose this means I'll need to self medicate my distaste for this situation with a tall, cool glass of vardka.