One Awkward Vacation

Hay hay hay. Just as I was getting so uppity about my post-reunion popularity, I disappear again. I wish I could say I’ve been up to something truly exciting or glamorous but alas, I’ve been dull. Working too much and struggling to pay my bills and otherwise being a boring adult. So uncool. I have this co-worker who is dating this guy, a real life Christian Grey this one, who every weekend sends his private car to bring her to his private plane to fly her to his house on Nantucket. Isn’t that bonkers? That has nothing to do with my life or this blog in any way, I just needed to share it. Bonkers!

I’m also going to the beach this weekend, to Fire Island, but my private jet is in the repair shop, so we’re taking the Long Island Rail Road which is possibly even fancier. Have any of you been to Fire Island? It is divine. It is teeny tiny, barely a half mile wide with water on either side (ok, yes, I realize that is the definition of island, shut up) and there are no cars allowed on the island so everyone bikes and pulls little wagons and sips cocktails on their decks and no one bothers getting dressed up nice and I just love it. I love it! Also allegedly Tina Fey has a vacation home there so I’ll likely devote a solid chunk of this weekend stalking her out. Look out Tiiiinaaaaaaa, I’m coming for you!

I am so weird.

Anyway, so we’ve been planning this vacation for months – we went last year for a few amazing long weekends – and I’ve been looking forward to it like a lonely former sorority girl looks forward to a new season of The Bachelorette – this is my vacation! My getaway! My time in the sun! I have spent the last few weeks dreaming of four long days, beginning Thursday and ending on Sunday, with my toes in the sand, beer in my hand, etcetera and so forth, but an unexpected tragedy has struck and now the weekend doesn’t begin until Friday! I am devastated! Who is to blame for this change in plans? Sources seem to point to me, since all documents discussing this weekend clearly stated that Friday was the official start date for the rental house and everyone else knew about this except for me, but I refuse to take the fall for this. I’m looking for someone else to pin this on. I think I’ll blame Chick-Fil-A. They’re on my ick list anyway and as Fire Island is a popular haven for the gayz, I can only imagine they disapprove of our vacation and through some kind of evangelical voodoo prayer power turned my brain to mush and disabled me from comprehending the dates on the calendar. That’s the only possible explanation!

Insane, maaaybe, but just go with me here. I’m mildly embarrassed & distressed by my changed vacation plans and need a scapegoat!

Adding to my pre-vacation distress, for the last few months I’ve been “planning” (aka sporadically writing lists in a tiny spiral notebook) for a gigantic, amazing day of activities, Olympic themed, complete with team shirts and medals and a drinking game I made up called Carrying the Torch and it was going to be so awesome, everyone was already like, London who? Fire Island 2012! But this week when I finally tried to get everything organized, 65% of my fellow weekenders didn’t even respond (rude! You know who you are!) and the rest were nearly unanimously not into participating because they don’t like “committing to structured activities.” Yes, I know you are reading this, and I don’t take it back: y’all are lame! What do you think this is some kind of relaxing vacation or something? NOT on my watch! We’re going to have an Olympics and we’re going to have some GODDAMN FUN!!

It is beginning to occur to me that I might be a bit of a control freak. I really don’t like doing anything unless we’re doing it my way. It’s also beginning to occur to me that I am definitely going to be that mom – you know her, the one who is always making her kids do organized activities, usually with some sort of educational value, all while wearing matching t-shirts with clever pun based slogans and puns. Future Children - I hope you’re good at 3 legged races and making sand sculptures of famous historical landmarks. Dibs on the Sphinx!

My poor babies are so doomed.

I’ve decided I’m still taking a vacation day tomorrow. Brian also took the day off because he too thought vacation started on Thursday. Apparently someone, not naming any names, but I heard it was his moron girlfriend, told him the wrong dates. What a dumb-dumb! So he & I are going to have a romantic staycation day. I don’t know what we’ll get up to – we might explore a neighborhood we’ve never visited or go to Coney Island or just ride the subway around and hop off in each borough and make out and then hop back on (haha gross! But maybe!). I do know the day will involve Bloody Marys, and many of them.


So that’s where I’ll be for the next few. Hopefully I win a Gold medal in my solo Olympics! I promise more stories upon my return – I know you’ve missed me terribly!

Xx Liz