I just want to sleep.
The entire time in Florida, we never went to bed before 3am. Now I'm back home and my brain is saying, "Remember when we used to party all night and sleep all day? Good times!" and my body is saying, "Dude, you're 27. Go the hell to sleep."
So yeah, this isn't working out too well for me. However, since I am up, I promised my sister I would be sure to ridicule her in full detail when I had time.
From me to you, the Christmas 2001 Vacation Highlights!
* Idiot men at bars will do anything to talk to extremely tall women. I'm not sure why this happens, but it does. I have a theory, based on the standard penis envy equated to length which is then mentally projected onto a tall woman. See, it's simple. A guy sees a really tall chick and subconsciously wants to be near her, because of all those damn inches. Mhm. Yes, I'm a philosophizing fool. Of course this philosophy breaks down when men hit on you before they even know how tall you are. Maybe I should just go back to saying, "Idiot men!" and be done with it.
* We found out that my dad has contracted a bizarre disease. He can't get out of the house before 3pm. Case in point: on Wednesday at 2pm he said we couldn't go to the bird store and the base because we needed to leave earlier, so we went somewhere else -- at 3pm. So Thursday morning we were up and ready to go by 11. We didn't leave til 3pm (but still ended up at the birdstore and base). Friday we had more shopping to do. What time did we leave? Yep, 3pm. It's mysterious, I tell you.
* We also found out that shopping with dad as adults is much like shopping with him as children; he walks like a bat out of hell in the most aimless way possible, and we just run along behind him, struggling to keep up. It was most amusing.
* I must own a hottub. Shannon is trying to say that she doesn't see what the big deal is, but she seemed to think it was pretty cool when she was sloshing around like a crackhead mermaid at 2am with her JD & Coke (Rootbeer? Dr. Pepper?) in one hand and a phone in the other!
* Shannon got naked in the backseat of Dad's car. She's weird. But we'll do anything for good fashion, right? How a 6'2" woman can sit on the floor in the back of a 2-door Ford Escort and change from jeans and a sweatshirt into a skirt and blouse, I will never know.
* McGuire's. This was the highpoint of the entire trip. What more can you ask for but giant jugs of some crazed mixture of 151 and God only knows what else called an Irish Wake, free drinks, 50+ year old sweaty red faced men hitting on you, free drinks, Navy guys(!), raucous live music from a dull-faced man that has complete control over a crowd (When he says "You! Kiss the moose! And you! Bite her ass!" they listen, damn it), and my very own sister falling out of her chair and lying on the floor.
I sent away that last JD & Coke. The waitress thanked me. The bartender gave me a plastic kiddiecup of water when I went up to get her a new drink. Good thing, too, because she sent if flying from the table to the floor about 5 seconds after I put it on the table. Nice job, Shan.
Then there was the cowgirl that spouted the entire book of Revelations to us, the Navy photographer that sadly got mixed up with us but was kind enough to take pictures for my memory book, the three girls at the table near the bar that we stood around with comparing belly button rings, and the fact that my Dad actually tried to count to 3 when my sister wouldn't listen to him.
Yeah. Using the whole, "I mean it! 1...! 2...! 3!" always works on drunken women. Guys, you should try it sometime. If nothing else, you'll have a bright red mark across your cheek to remember the evening by.
Then Shannon broke our bed. Tore the bedpost clean from it's place. Oops.
And in the morning... "Kelly, I'm an idiot. I broke the bed. I'm an idiot. What? I did what?? Oh man. I'm an idiot."
* The trip home. I just wanted more alcohol. I'd been on a strong 5 day vodka, beer, and whatever else I could think of stint, so why stop? Shannon refused to go to the airport lounge with me, so we headed for the restaurant.
"Look," she said, "Kaluha! MmMm, Kelly! That is what you need."
So I bought it. For $4.75. MmMm. Kaluha flavoured non-alcoholic coffee.
* And they did not offer us free alcohol on the flight home. I read, Shannon slept. She tried to snuggle up to me and force me from my seat onto the aisle. I finished my book and she woke just in time to watch Dallas come into view. It's bewildering to me, to see this large expanse of lights surrounding the tiny core of skyscrapers that is downtown Dallas. Dallas seemed so tiny from the plane. So fragile and unimportant. I think back to my first trip to downtown Dallas, when I took Shannon to one of her modeling gigs. The buildings became threatening giants and the city itself seemed too large to deal with. Heaven forbid, am I a country girl?
* The happy reunion! Except, there was no one to reuionify ourselves with. Boyfriend Bill got lost. Then we got lost. Then he paged us, and we walked 1/2 mile to him. But he left. Ha! But he came back! And the lovebirds reunited. I kicked them. But they bought me dinner, and all was forgiven.
* Oh, and by the way? Boyfriend Bill is now Fiancé Bill. And Shannon is now Bride To Be, and I get to play Maid of Honour! And the only thing I can think is, "Grats Shan on Engagement!" (Thanks, Shaun).
The highlights sort of faded with each night of sleep (or lack of sleep) that has passed since then. It was an excellent trip, because I got to spend time with family. It was one of the saddest trips I've been on in a long time, because I got to spend time with family.
It's nice to be home. I'm glad to have my boys to cuddle up with on the couch while snow flurries come down outside. I've always spent New Years week in serious thought of where my life has been and where it is going. I remember last year how I truly felt change coming. This year, I feel nothing but cold assurance that change has made its way into my life. I have no idea where I will be 365 days from today. Though I do believe that Jane Siberry's "Calling All Angels" will be this years theme song. Last years, interestingly enough, was The Cranberry's "Free to Decide". These things are very important you see -- choosing the right song. A wise friend once told me so.