This past April, one of my sisters and I went to Punta Cana, Dominican Republic. It was supposed to be a girl's vacation...I mean we're both girls, so I suppose we succeeded on that objective :) But some friends had expressed interest in going on vacation together, maybe an all-inclusive. I'm up for pretty much any travel my friends suggest, so I happily researched where and when to go.
First off, do you know how difficult it is to plan a vacation when you don't know where you want to go? Or how hard it is to research all-inclusive resorts? Every other trip I've taken, I knew the destination first and ran with it. Also, I had never done an all-inclusive so didn't know where to start.
Anywho, based on recommendations from many people and extensive internet research, I narrowed it down to a couple resorts in Punta Cana and picked a week in April. I sent the info and...crickets. I mean, zero response.
A couple weeks later, I finally talked to the friend who originally suggested a girl's trip. She lamented that she would not be able to go because she couldn't get a whole week off work, and neither could our other friend. And you couldn't have told me that sooner? If I had know that, I would have looked into somewhere they could get to with a single flight so that they could go for a long weekend.
By that point, I had already put so much effort into planning Punta Cana that I wasn't going to change it. Oh well! My sister ended up being able to go, though, so I still went and had a blast! So there.
The moral of this story is that no matter how much I love travel, there will always be frustrations, and overcoming them makes me somewhat of a superhero! If only I had a cape...
10.29.2012
10.24.2012
Fun with Learning
A lot of learning occurred last week while on vacation with some college friends and one of my sisters in the Florida Keys. There may or may not have been drinking involved. Oh, and John left the room when things got real. Discussion topics included:
Alcohol enemas: The new trend for high schoolers/college students wherein alcohol goes up the pooper because it gets you drunk faster. Really? Doesn't that take the social aspect out of drinking? My sister suggested gin because, "I would rather put gin in my ass hole than in my mouth because it tastes like pine trees."
Anal bleaching: Because some people are self conscious that their anus looks like an anus, and heaven forbid it be the color nature intended.
Back, sack, and crack (BSC) wax: The male pain equivalent to the Brazilian.
Third eye: AKA your ass hole. As in "my third eye just closed when discussing alcohol enemas, anal bleaching, and the BSC."
Hipster: Oh, how to define hipster to someone who was not aware it was a thing? Basically anything with mainstream popularity should be shunned and anything disliked by the mainsteam is super-cool.
IMDB: really? How can you not know about this?
Manicure vs. pedicure: The token male in the group had not had either but was game to get a pedicure alongside his girlfriend. However he could not remember which term was for hands and which was for feet. It's all about etymology!
Cootchie or Hoo ha cover: As in for my Dominican Republic couples massage with my sister, I had one and she didn't.
Mustache ride: While discussing poor t-shirt choices for guys ("that's a great story, now go make me a sandwich"), Laura said, "it must be a joke--who would wear that?" I told her have seen guys legit wearing "free mustache rides" shirts.
Like throwing a hotdog down a hallway: This phrase is actually about a loose woman, but we used it to describe very bad sex while responding to the anti-sext "I'm off the market."
I also shared some Bad Lip Reading videos: The Hunger Games, Twilight, and Russian Unicorn.
Looking back, I was the one dispensing the knowledge...hmmm...What does that say about me?
Alcohol enemas: The new trend for high schoolers/college students wherein alcohol goes up the pooper because it gets you drunk faster. Really? Doesn't that take the social aspect out of drinking? My sister suggested gin because, "I would rather put gin in my ass hole than in my mouth because it tastes like pine trees."
Anal bleaching: Because some people are self conscious that their anus looks like an anus, and heaven forbid it be the color nature intended.
Back, sack, and crack (BSC) wax: The male pain equivalent to the Brazilian.
Third eye: AKA your ass hole. As in "my third eye just closed when discussing alcohol enemas, anal bleaching, and the BSC."
Hipster: Oh, how to define hipster to someone who was not aware it was a thing? Basically anything with mainstream popularity should be shunned and anything disliked by the mainsteam is super-cool.
IMDB: really? How can you not know about this?
Manicure vs. pedicure: The token male in the group had not had either but was game to get a pedicure alongside his girlfriend. However he could not remember which term was for hands and which was for feet. It's all about etymology!
Cootchie or Hoo ha cover: As in for my Dominican Republic couples massage with my sister, I had one and she didn't.
Mustache ride: While discussing poor t-shirt choices for guys ("that's a great story, now go make me a sandwich"), Laura said, "it must be a joke--who would wear that?" I told her have seen guys legit wearing "free mustache rides" shirts.
Like throwing a hotdog down a hallway: This phrase is actually about a loose woman, but we used it to describe very bad sex while responding to the anti-sext "I'm off the market."
I also shared some Bad Lip Reading videos: The Hunger Games, Twilight, and Russian Unicorn.
Looking back, I was the one dispensing the knowledge...hmmm...What does that say about me?
Reality is a Drag
Some people in our group recommended we go to a drag show in Key West. They recommended Aqua Nightclub, so Aqua's 'Reality is a Drag' show it was! Since we're lame and wanted to go to bed early (it was an hour drive back), we decided on the 7:00 show. There was hardly anyone in the bar when we arrived, so we got seated front and center.
Victoria, the evening's host, opened with a number wherein she harassed some audience members, myself included. She looked down from the stage, saw the size of my hoots, walked down, and grabbed them. Can't say I blame her; I was kinda expecting it.
She gave her spiel, saying, "If you come in straight and leave gay, it's your own damn fault. This is a bar. And what do you do at a bar? Drink. The more you drink, the better I look!" Then she asked whose first drag show it was: "I thought I smelled fear."
Angel, a fellow audience member, jumped up, raised her hand, and announced, "It's my birthday!" "Shut up, slut--we'll get to you," Victoria ordered. Angel's jaw dropped. "Oh, close your mouth, you look like a blow-up doll." As we later learned, Angel was celebrating her 21st birthday...with her family...at a drag show. Her father was so uncomfortable as to appear frozen.
Sassy and Inga also performed. Sassy was a little blah, but gorgeous. Inga was hilarious! She came out dressed as a cow, complete with udders. First, she sang about her own teats, then about loving boobs in general. This is when she looked down my shirt approvingly and grabbed my maracas. She proceeded to sing about itty-bitty titties and pointed out some tots in my group. Laura wouldn't allow any of the performers to grab her puppies, but she kept count for me--my breasticles were fondled 5 times!
We enjoyed ourselves enough to get stamped to come back for the 9:00 show, but by the time we got a ways down the street, we were drenched in sweat and decided to go back to the house, shower, and sleep.
Victoria, the evening's host, opened with a number wherein she harassed some audience members, myself included. She looked down from the stage, saw the size of my hoots, walked down, and grabbed them. Can't say I blame her; I was kinda expecting it.
She gave her spiel, saying, "If you come in straight and leave gay, it's your own damn fault. This is a bar. And what do you do at a bar? Drink. The more you drink, the better I look!" Then she asked whose first drag show it was: "I thought I smelled fear."
Angel, a fellow audience member, jumped up, raised her hand, and announced, "It's my birthday!" "Shut up, slut--we'll get to you," Victoria ordered. Angel's jaw dropped. "Oh, close your mouth, you look like a blow-up doll." As we later learned, Angel was celebrating her 21st birthday...with her family...at a drag show. Her father was so uncomfortable as to appear frozen.
Sassy and Inga also performed. Sassy was a little blah, but gorgeous. Inga was hilarious! She came out dressed as a cow, complete with udders. First, she sang about her own teats, then about loving boobs in general. This is when she looked down my shirt approvingly and grabbed my maracas. She proceeded to sing about itty-bitty titties and pointed out some tots in my group. Laura wouldn't allow any of the performers to grab her puppies, but she kept count for me--my breasticles were fondled 5 times!
We enjoyed ourselves enough to get stamped to come back for the 9:00 show, but by the time we got a ways down the street, we were drenched in sweat and decided to go back to the house, shower, and sleep.
10.23.2012
Damn it, I Forgot to Check my Boobs!
My sister, Lauren, and I were on our
own for dinner in Key West one night, so we walked most of the way down
Duval Street looking for a place to eat. Along the way, a bug flew down
my shirt, so I start flailing, trying to get the bug out.
Thinking I succeeded, I calmed down... only to feel the flutter of its little wings right in my cleave! I can only imagine what those around me thought as I proceeded to yank my collar out and reach down to scoop the little guy out.
But I didn't know if I had gotten all the bug parts out, and, because I didn't want to forget and find a random wing later, I was going to check in the restroom. However, I forgot, so upon returning to the table, I said, "Damn it, I forgot to check my boobs!"
Thinking I succeeded, I calmed down... only to feel the flutter of its little wings right in my cleave! I can only imagine what those around me thought as I proceeded to yank my collar out and reach down to scoop the little guy out.
But I didn't know if I had gotten all the bug parts out, and, because I didn't want to forget and find a random wing later, I was going to check in the restroom. However, I forgot, so upon returning to the table, I said, "Damn it, I forgot to check my boobs!"
What Happens in Key West...
Some college friends, my sister, and some friends of one of the college friends rented a house in Marathon Key for the week. We drove down to Key West a few nights.
For dinner, my college friends, sister, and I went to Margaritaville, where our waiter opened with, "You're going to have crappy service tonight. If you have a shot of tequila before dinner and one after dinner, it will make my poor performance seem much better. Help me to help you." Throughout dinner, he was giving everyone a hard time, in a funny, joking way.
We went on our way after dinner but saw him out at a bar he had suggested. Later, he awkwardly kissed someone's ear, and even later, there was a moment of panic regarding suspected stalking, but he disappeared. Foof! We made sure to walk on the other side of the road or walk swiftly past the restaurant the rest of the time.
At Rick's Bar, we were the only ones dancing for most of the time we were there, but there was a guy in a black shirt who came up behind my friend and her boyfriend and started grinding on her boyfriend. Her boyfriend was slightly alarmed but continued dancing.
Black shirt guy moved on to dance with all of us, asking each if she had a husband. Someone told him, "yes, in fact, I have three husbands!" And that all of us there were staying at the same place and, in fact, in the same bed. He offered his bed, but the offer was not accepted. When he asked me, I said no, and he reacted like he was annoyed: "geez, everyone here has a husband." Maybe he misheard me?
Anyway, black shirt guy's friend, plaid shirt guy, joined in dancing for a while, twirling me around the dance floor. He asked what we were all doing there, so I told him it was a girl's trip...well, plus one boyfriend. He grinned and said, "I left my boyfriend at home!" Then he proceeded to do the desperate dance with me, confusing me. Then, black shirt guy went back to his group of friends, threw his empty beer bottle on the floor, and was promptly kicked out.
Continuing on at Rick's, there was a man we deemed to be a local who was dancing by himself, refusing to dance with anyone else. He was schmammered. He humped a garbage can and then banged the air while using a beer bottle as his schlong. We tried to get one of my friends to dance with him, but she was a little intimidated by all the thrusting.
For dinner, my college friends, sister, and I went to Margaritaville, where our waiter opened with, "You're going to have crappy service tonight. If you have a shot of tequila before dinner and one after dinner, it will make my poor performance seem much better. Help me to help you." Throughout dinner, he was giving everyone a hard time, in a funny, joking way.
We went on our way after dinner but saw him out at a bar he had suggested. Later, he awkwardly kissed someone's ear, and even later, there was a moment of panic regarding suspected stalking, but he disappeared. Foof! We made sure to walk on the other side of the road or walk swiftly past the restaurant the rest of the time.
At Rick's Bar, we were the only ones dancing for most of the time we were there, but there was a guy in a black shirt who came up behind my friend and her boyfriend and started grinding on her boyfriend. Her boyfriend was slightly alarmed but continued dancing.
Black shirt guy moved on to dance with all of us, asking each if she had a husband. Someone told him, "yes, in fact, I have three husbands!" And that all of us there were staying at the same place and, in fact, in the same bed. He offered his bed, but the offer was not accepted. When he asked me, I said no, and he reacted like he was annoyed: "geez, everyone here has a husband." Maybe he misheard me?
 |
| "Desperate Dance" note his wide smile and look of desperation in his eyes |
Continuing on at Rick's, there was a man we deemed to be a local who was dancing by himself, refusing to dance with anyone else. He was schmammered. He humped a garbage can and then banged the air while using a beer bottle as his schlong. We tried to get one of my friends to dance with him, but she was a little intimidated by all the thrusting.
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