You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better. ~ Anne Lamott
So here is the deal... some of you kids need to settle down. I know I owe you Cancun pics and tales of days spent chasing food and lazing on the beach. I apologize. We all have stuff going on and mine is going on in a lot of different ways.
Part of the reason I have not been blogging much this month is because I was in Mexico for the first part of it and I very quickly became very used to being lazy. I was throwing ones at Mexicans like they were strippers and they were more than happy to do my bidding. I heard a lot of "It would be my pleasure, my Princess." Turns out, in Canada, I cannot get a single person to even pour me a coffee for a dollar let alone write this blog. Ya'll could learn a lot about customer service from the Mexicans. Like how to be grateful for your spoiled lives and how to make sure I never see the bottom of an empty coffee cup.
Just sayin', not hatin'.
As well, are some health issues going on too. My iron levels are not where they should be and a suspected thyroid problem is a lot less than suspect and beginning to become a huge problem. Most nights, I am making sweet love to La Sofa by 7:00 because I am exhausted and do not have the energy to be witty.
So, until I get that stuff sorted out, posting will be irregular. Like me.
PS: Wore a bathing suit in public. Every day I was there. For really. Well except for the last day but that is only because we were supposed to be at the airport and flying home in the afternoon and did not leave until well after midnight. I even had a wardrobe malfunction while wearing a tankini. Seriously. Some of you may need brain bleach after you see this (and guess what... I no longer care if you do), but I knew most of you would not believe it so here it is:
On hiatus... I'll enjoy Mexico for all of us.
I am pretty sure this trip to Mexico is going to kill me. Before I even get to the airport.
I have had a nervous breakdown in a Walmart dressing room over the size of my ass and how much cleavage is too much for a trip taken with colleagues from work.
I could not find a dress at Old Navy that didn't hang like a muu muu off me.
I thought my arm was going to fall off after the first Twinrix shot.
I am having a crisis over which bags to take and which to leave home. They all want to go to Mexico and I think only two or three will be making the journey.
I have been told so many diarrhea stories that I am already taking Imodium.
Travel Companion A turned out to be a total ass hat of a boyfriend. Travel Companion B said if I could not find someone of the male and available persuasion to go, she would. Travel Companion C was a douche bag about coughing up a copy of his passport, taking days off, and cost me my entire budget for resort wear hundreds of dollars because he did not answer an email. Travel Companion B then had a family crisis that involves funeral plans. Travel companion D is happier than a pig in shit to be going.
Travel Companion A, no I will not have hate sex with you and you can go hump an ant hill.
Travel Companion B, stay strong girl. Be brave. Chin high, shoulders back, heels in the best pair of stiletto's you have.
Travel Companion C, you are not the only ride in the amusement park. Your loss. Again.
Travel Companion D, let's rawk.
Ya, so there's that.
Now, if you know me, you know my skin is pale. The kind of pale that is only one shade darker than albino. And when one is off to Mexico but is currently residing in the North Pole, one must "pre-tan." Sounds simple enough, right? I have been tanning before, I own ceramic protective eye wear, and I know how to nude up in less than two minutes. Yes, this is important information for all of you who do not tan and keep in mind, I was naked for what I am about to describe to you. OK, just the tanning bed part. Things can get pretty sexy at The Office, but we keep it G-rated. Who am I kidding, it is all NC-17 in that place.
The lovely Della, Queen of the Countdown to Mexico, and I have been tanning buddies for a couple of weeks now. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I have a date with Della at 12:30 to go get microwaved. Last Friday was particularly stressful as I had to empty my savings account onto my credit card to pay for Travel Companion C's cluster fuck bullshit game playing (ya, I said it and I meant it). It was exacerbated by Judy The Travel Agent when she called to say the credit card number I had given her was invalid. Big sighs of relief when it was discovered she had transposed the last two numbers. BIG SIGHS. I have never been so close to needing to jump half the people I work with for their antidepressants.
The lunch date tanning session was supposed to relieve all these frustrations. On a regular day it would. Not on this day and not in tanning room three. I did the typical flight of the bumble bee to nude up, goggle up, and jump in the bed. As I lay there na-na'ing with Rhianna, I heard some creaking from above me. I was mindful of it but did not pay much attention as I was more concerned with finding the optimum tanning position and Drake's "uuuuuuhh".
I should have paid attention.
At about the seven minute mark, the Plexiglas from the top side of the tanning bed came crashing down on me. Yes, it was no longer part of the tanning bed and I was nakedly sandwiched between it and the rest of the bed, having a near death experience and totally freaking out leaving me to quickly ponder my future. Why? There are speakers attached to that tanning bed. Speakers that have electricity flowing through them and they are about to kill me.
I cannot remember all of what went through my mind at that moment but it was all prefaced with "I am naked, I am not a size two, I cannot scream for help. I am uber fucked." I managed to slide and then push and fall my way out from under the Plexiglas and onto the floor of the tanning room. By this time, I was nakedly crawling about the room with my eyes squished shut (protective eye wear seems to be the first thing to fail you in a tanning crisis), feeling my way around to the stop button, not so conveniently located in the back of the bed. When I opened my eyes, I was relieved to find that the speakers on the Plexiglas are actually just covers and the speakers are actually hard wired into the top of the bed.
Big sighs.
Am not dead.
Am naked on my hands and knees, with my ass up in the are like I am worshipping some tanning god.
Are we there yet?
PS:
To the The Office Goddess... thank you for being you. Thank you for having shoulders to cry on, hugs that make the pain go away, and boobies to rub up against.
My passport came today.
Actually, it came yesterday but no one was around to sign for it so it got sent to the local post office that is renowned for being complete fascists when it comes to releasing registered mail and packages. It is so bad, I have my online purchases sent to The Office because once it is in the firm clutches of those crazy ladies at the post office, you have to produce DNA and character references to get it back.
I was shaking so bad when I signed for it. Of course, I had to sign one of those electronic pads that morphs your signature into hieroglyphics. I hesitated. Totally expected crazy lady to take the package back and tell me "No Mexico for you!"
Once I had liberated my mail from Canada Post, I stood at the counter at the post office and tore the package open. Even though I went over my passport application a bazillion times and had others check it for completeness, I was certain it would get sent back and I would be told by some faceless government mucky muck that I suck at filling out applications and to try again.
I opened the package slowly. Ohmigawd its not in here. Ohmigawd. Ohmiwait... that looks like the pages of a passport. Ohmigawd. It is here. Ohmigawd keep your shit together girl and get outta here.
I buried my head into my chest and bolted out of there, stopping briefly at the ice cream cooler (there was a ledge there for me to put my bag on... I wasn't even thinking of the Haagen Dazs) to check and see if the government sent back my I.D. I had to very reluctantly sent to them because if they had not sent it back, some poor bastard on some customer service email account was going to get a snot-a-gram, the likes of which have never been read or felt. O.C.D. makes you twitchy sometimes. This was a sometimes.
The I.D. was there. And the passport was still there too. Keys and phone in the right pockets? Yes. Good, we can go now. Effing O.C.D. kicks my ass all the time when it comes to things like this.
At home. Sofa. Dump work bag out looking for package with passport in it. Inwardly remark that my passport photo looks like a proper mug shot of a lesbian with bad hair and how nobody is going to let me in their country when they compare that with the live and in person me.
Then it hit me. I can go anywhere. That thought alone made me weepy. It was bittersweet. All that time all those years ago Captain Celery told me I needed a passport, that it immediately opened the world up... I get it now. You were right and I understand it now. Sorry I doubted you.
Little secret, just between you and I. I am a kid from the ghetto who only ever dreamed of going to other parts in the world. When I was growing up, we were lucky enough to be able to afford the gas for the thirteen hour drive to my grandparents' place every summer. I travelled a bit in Canada as an adult but never needed a passport. Never thought I would. Machu Pichu, India, Nepal, Tibet, Italy, Greece, NYC, Scotland, Ireland, and the Louvre in Paris had always been places I read about but had always seemed so far out of my reach.
Now I can go there.
Bittersweet.
Oh you may think I'm a fool for saying it out loud and that is okay. You may have held a passport for years and think I'm just being a ridiculous, sentimental fool. Perhaps I am. But think of what that little twenty four page book does for you, especially if you are Canadian.
You can go anywhere.
I can go anywhere.
All those places that I have read about and have dreamt about suddenly got a whole lot closer.
I am going to be here.
Now, how many sleeps till I go?
Don't hate. If it is any consolation, we have mid year inventory scheduled for the two days before I leave.
See, yin and yang.
... to Mexico!!!!
Eff off. I know it is the worst place in the world to be right now but by April it is gonna be awesomesauce. I just know it!
Ya, its like that.
