We got home last night from a Spring Break trip. I decided to not be a dumbass and announce to the internet that I was going out of town (not that any of you lovely readers would try to boost my house, especially not with Cato and Blue around, but still). It was a great vacation and I promise to write about the stupid shit I did while I was there, but today I’m tired.
My re-entry routine is to drop the family off at home, go to the store to provision, then unpack everything, get the laundry going and bring the suitcases to the basement. It’s kind of a drag but the next morning when I wake up it is like the pain of travel never happened; we are all miraculously at home without a mountain of shit to do staring me down.
One of my favorite things about going out of town is coming home to Blue. He is so excited to see me and he was like this every time I walked in the door the first week we had him. Now he takes me for granted and sometimes will lift his head off the bed, but usually not. This reminds me of the good old days when he lived and died for me.
Of course Frank leapt into our arms when we got back. Not. He did leap onto the counter when I refilled his food, though.
After the kitty love-fest and 2 hours of post vacay toil, I met David C. Owen, the champion male pole dancer who teaches at Shine Alternative Fitness in Las Vegas and is in town to teach workshops at Vertical Fusion Pole Studio and who is STAYING AT MY HOUSE!
I spend most of my time ogling female pole dancers on youtube so I did a quickie search and immediately fell deeply in love with him. I pole-crush hard. When Melanie showed up with him I was all goo-goo-ga-ga and falling all over myself. I hardly slept, I was so thrilled that he was staying in my house. I’m easily excitable.
The next day I took his workshop and was clearly the least qualified in the room but I didn’t care, it’s amazing to learn new things from new people. And I openly stared at him the whole time.
He’s amazing to watch and the most beautiful dancer; made all the more exceptional by being self-taught and having only taken up pole four years ago with no prior dance or gymnastic experience. Despite all that, he is a detailed and knowledgeable teacher and inspiring to learn from. I could go on and on but I’ll leave it at that for now. I’m just feeling grateful that life leads lovely people to my door so I can get to know them, even if for only a short time.
Of course this opportunity comes after a week at an all-inclusive resort in Mexico, where I went an entire week without being hungry … or sober. Not even once. I feel like a hotdog after you’ve microwaved it too long (bursting at the seam) but sometimes I have to wallow in my own filth to remind myself why clean living feels so good. And why being thin feels good, which is a distant memory at this point.
Right now I feel nasty and wished that I didn’t have that extra five pounds on me as I shoved my dimpled ass into booty shorts for class. Ugh. Today before lunch I was all WHY DOES MY STOMACH FEEL WEIRD?!?!
Oh. That’s called being hungry. Get used to it.
Anyway, time to cut the crap.
I’m gonna start with this book. I gave up on Game of Thrones after the third book; I just couldn’t take it anymore. After the awesome ending of book three (after a long, slow, slog to the end), book four started over with a bunch of new characters. WTF? It started to feel like Lost. Is George R. R. Martin ever going to wrap this thing up or will he just keep adding new characters? Forever?
Oh? What’s that you say? You loved Game of Thrones? You must not have children. Or a life. I need a book I can finish SOMETIME THIS YEAR, like this one. DONATE.
BTW, I tried to find a fun link that backed up my apparently unique perspective but “Game of Thrones takes too goddamn long to read” didn’t come up. Fuck it.
We went to an ecopark that, surprise, gave away disposable snorkels. I guess they had to for health reasons, which I’m sure my germ-phobic friend was relieved to find out, but it seemed like such a waste. Previous me would have taken them home but what do I need with four snorkels, especially when I have a dozen at home? Ooops. I left them at the resort, maybe someone will use them? Hope springs eternal.
Look at all this shit I did not take home! I was so strong! I’m sure someone uses a showercap, but it wouldn’t be me. A shoe shine cloth? Nope. I’m gonna leave it for the next guy. I know they reuse the bottles so I’m feeling morally superior.
Traveling with older kids rules. This is what I’m talking about. Instead of me carrying them and all their shit, they are carrying my shit. Winning!
Luggage Jenga. Don’t get all panicky on me, that’s luggage for six adults and three children. Nice packing job, eh?
Back home I’m getting rid of peach preserves I canned myself several years ago (from peaches I grew) but am too scared to eat. Party in the compost pile!
One Baby Leg tiny leg warmer. The boys wore t-shirts, a Fuzzibunz diapers, booties and leg warmers the first year of their lives. I kept this around for sentimental value but I’m assuming there is another one floating around so I’m gonna toss it. Plus I have pictures of them galore.
Scrotus won the Easter hunt for the golden egg and got a much hallowed special prize. When he presented the egg to the MC she was like ARE YOU EXCITED!!!! and he was all, “Not really.”
I cannot wait for him to turn into a sullen teen, them’s some good times to come.
Anyway, he perked up a little when he got the wrapped box and some bigger kids crowded around, kind of psyched to see what he scored which ended up being this TINY BACKPACK. The bigger kid was like, “That’s lame. I got one of those for free when I went to the Kid’s Club the first day.” and walked away in disgust. Thanks, Fucker. DONATE.
A picture on a poster board behind the boys’ door. They’ve forgotten it exists. RECYCLE.
A Christmas Ornament. It keeps bopping around the pole room. I can’t stand to look at it until Christmas which is nine months away. It makes me feel dirty to do this but, TRASH.
Featured image courtesy of www.someecards.com