Vacations go better with alcohol.

It has come to my attention that I'm not very good at this vacation thing.  Thank you dear husband.  I love you, I really do.  Apparently I like to get up and do things and the rest of my family does not.  I've been told to, "relax, calm down, enjoy things and take it easy." Usually these comments are being said to me while an alcoholic beverage is being slid across the table.  If the drink does not get close enough to me it gets shoved over with a fork, plate or anything to move it within my reach.

And all of these comments have generally pissed me off.

I can't seem to sit down and do nothing.  The rest of my clan is perfectly happy slumming it out on the beach.  Don't get me wrong, I can do that.  I'm just having a hard time doing it all day long.  I'm pasty white with no skin pigment so I last about twenty minutes before I go from white to pink to magenta.

I went out for a run in the afternoon and damn near died.  I was hallucinating and thinking about a Star Trek episode where Jean Luke and Wesley were stuck on some desert planet and were dying themselves.  They were chewing on rocks to keep spit in their mouths.  All I kept thinking of was, "where'd they get those rocks?  That planet's a desert."  And then "where can I get me some of those rocks round here?  I think I'm dying myself.  I don't have any spit in my mouth.  Oh my God, I think my blood's congealing."  And I actually started to look down at the ground for rocks to stick in my mouth.  How fucked up is that?!?


While out on my run, I think I told a group of Japanese tourists to go off the island instead of going to Captivia which was their original destination.  In fairness, I don't know why they stopped and asked me.  Anyone who lives around here knows only stupid tourists are out in the heat of the day going for a run.  Even other tourists were looking at me like I was nuts.  In fairness, they're all right.

Anyway, I'm trying to give this a good shake.  I'm trying to relax.  I've started to drink heavily and it does seem to take the edge off.

So what if the kids get a little too loud at the beach?  We're never going to see these people again.

So what if Gracie pees on the carpet?  Twice.  It's not our house, my carpet.  That's what a security deposit's for, right?  Right??

So what if this creature crawled out from under the sofa?  It's not my bug.  Again, not my house.

Had I not had a glass or two or six under my belt, that would have had me pissing my own pants. Not to mention all the crap that would have been spewing out of my mouth.  But having had enough alcohol in my system to deaden all my nerve endings I just got a good giggle out of it.  

I actually put it in a glass on the ground and let the kids name it and keep it as a pet for a while.

See what happens when I relax?

I let my kids play with roaches.  

I think my husband is seriously concerned with this turn of events but hey, I'm starting to relax.