Thursday, October 15, 2009

I Won't Mean Business On This Vacation

If we had spoken last Monday, hypothetically, and if you had said, "Dude, you are such a fucking douchebag" I might have defended my honor with ruthless abandon.

If you had texted me last Monday, hypothetically, and said, "All inclusive resort in Cancun + flight + transportation limited offer $500" I would have laughed at my phone and responded with my highly opposable thumbs, "you are a fucking loser" or whatever.

If we met at a bar last Monday, hypothetically, and our barversation ripened into an excited debate on vacation destinations, I would not have brought up any place in Mexico. Mexico isn't even in my top twenty-five Places To See While I Can Still Walk Moderately Quickly.*

Mostly this is because anything south and west of Kansas, in my brain, is "The Tropics."

And I'm not very tropical. I'm not one of those yellowy pink coltish girls that always wear flip flops and smell like sunshine. People don't look at me and think, "I'd bet the farm that that girl wears Hawaiian-hibiscus-print dresses," although they may perhaps think, "I'd bet this Hawaiian-hibiscus-print dress that that girl works on a farm."

Mid-west.

Secondly, I don't go on vacation. I take trips: there's a difference. "Vacation" implies relaxation. Usually I'm on a trip. Where I like...do stuff. Route 66. New Orleans. Alaska. Vegas (okay, maybe not Vegas).

But the fact is somewhere between last Tuesday and yesterday, we decided to go to a resort in Cancun. I couldn't pass this shit up. Six days, five nights, all-inclusive, flight, transportation, decent hotel, with a ringing total of $503.47 including tax.

I've had unintentional $200 bar nights before, where you wake up on the floor of your kitchen in the late afternoon with a fistful of corndog and a pocketful of receipts and an ankle-ful of sprain, and you swear upon green earth and stone that if your car is hopefully where you left it when you were sober twenty hours earlier, you'll swear off alcohol to preach the Word to heathens, and this time you mean it. Not like last time.

But that's not going to happen this time, no fucking way. This time I've already paid for alcohol. Because that shit's included, suckah.

And I know what people are going to say: don't go to Cancun, go to this place, where there are Mayan ruins and cave-diving, or go to this one place that is more beautiful and much more like the "real" Mexico. Or go to fucking blahgiddy blahgiddy blah blah blah, because the beaches are better and there are less tourists and more to see and do. Don't get kidnapped (exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point).

No.

You do not understand.

I am going to sit on the beach and get drunk on exotic pink things with umbrellas in them and read really trashy novels**, and I'm going to fucking like it.

I am going to lay around in a goddamn bathing suit, and no one is going to be able to see me because I am the same color as the sand, and I'll constantly forget where I put my sunglasses.

I am going to create a playlist in my head that alternates between "Kokomo" and "This Is It" and "Knights of Cydonia" and "Panama" and basically anything by Weezer, and I'm going to play it over and over again with my brain, because I don't own an iPod, and I don't care if you don't like those songs because you can't hear my brain anyway.

You have no idea how excited I am for this. I never do stuff like this. There's usually a point for things. There are mountains to climb (yeah, I totally bagged a peak) and long infamous roads to drive, drinking local brews, kayaking, legendary cuisine, church spirals and Irish pony races, biking along canals, wandering through Roman ruins, seeing monuments and palaces and the streets where they filmed Full House (everywhere you look, everywhere there's a place...somebody who needs you). Yeah. I've done all that business.

But I have no such expectations of Cancun, except for white beaches and booze. Booze that I have already paid for.

DECEMBER, BITCHES.

* List to come.
** Okay, so I have to buy some trashy novels. I've never been a trashy novel person, but I'm single and sneaking closer to thirty every day. It's about that time.

...

23 comments:

Chamuca said...

You forgot about waking up with a pocketful of horses, Trojan, and some of them used.

renalfailure said...

Yeah, fuck those yellowy pink coltish girls that always wear flip flops and smell like sunshine. I trust no one like that.

You could always read steampunk on the beach.

Thanatos said...

Alcohol included? They're so going broke.

Thanatos said...

And oh, that was a fuckin' champion post.

MoLinder said...

this trip is going to be epic (yes, i said epic. since we are going to be douches, might as well practice the lingo. when in rome and all.)
the only downside to this vacation is that we're probably going to be inundated with fucking jimmy buffett. yuck.

~Mountain Lover~ said...

Yea! I'd write something more thoughtful, but I have to go catch a bus. So, YEA!

hereinfranklin said...

I knew there'd be a Buffett bash somewhere. :) There is absolutely nothing better than looking forward to a trip...especially one that requires a passport. The best trashy novels are from the 70s--like Valley of the Dolls (Susann, might even be 60s) or Princess Daisy (Krantz). Shit--they're old enough to be Vintage Trash which is a whole new genre I just created.

daisyfae said...

you can drink $500 worth of hotel resort booze before you even get to your room... all inclusive + booze = big fun....

i'd pay $500 for all inclusive at a beach in the redneck riveria. rock it! you are going to bring peace to mexico, kiddo!

Chris said...

have a great time. the good thing about inclusive alcohol is all you have to remember is the feeling. And the heat.

JMH said...

On being the same color as the sand and invisibility and palm trees:

I don't know if you intend to, but if you plan to sit under a palm tree, make sure your bathing suit or birthmark is the same shape as palm tree shadow. You'll have to inch along with the sun if you plan to remain perfectly invisible.

Wait. If you collect enough paper umbrellas none of this will matter.

Mia Watts said...

You are sooo going to work and shit on your vacation.

And email me off-blog. I'll send you something trashy but of course that means you have to bring something that reads PDFs and I know how you feel about complicated phones.

Sid said...

Ok, I have to know. What are your 25 top places to visit? Will you be taking pics of Cancun???

nursemyra said...

wish i were coming with you :-(

Kono said...

you've just made one of the smartest decisions you'll ever make, congrats. i get to go to an all inclusive place in the Domican in May, where apparently i can call the help and they make me breakfast while i lay in bed and wait, fuuuuck yeah. all booze included and i'm gonna make some bellhop rich buying cheap, good weed. paradise, which reminds me of Almost Paradise by Heart.

The Ambiguous Blob said...

Ef this. I'm jealous. I'd demand to be invited along, but I'm thinking of making some really bad decisions pertaining to Costa Rican hoteliers at the end of the year. Fucking do it up in the tropics.
Some tips: at night time, if it rains- go out on the beach and twirl around. It's a great feeling. Wear cotton. Synthetic fabrics get all gross in tropic sweat. Bring more than 1 bathing suit. Those bitches take forever to dry in the humidity. Drink LOTS of water and LOTS of liquor. Leave your morals at the border. This kind of vacation doesn't need your goddamned value system.
Also, I pretty much only read trashy novels and have an impressive collection. I can mail you a few good ones if you want.
I'm so excited for you even through the jealous rage.

Sack Posset said...

JACKIE COLLINS. The Stud, The Bitch or The Love Killers. She will ROT YOU.

Stillie said...

Because you want to is a pretty damned good reason.

What an awesome deal. You made out with that one!

Red said...

Trashy novels so got me through college. And the majority of my 20s, actually. I recommend starting with _Scruples_, which is a classic in the genre. If you're going trashy, Judith Krantz is hard to beat. Judith McNaught is also quite good - I recommend _Paradise_. Nora Roberts makes me laugh. Jackie Collins is just trash and whatever the fuck you do don't waste $ on Danielle Steele.

Red said...

p.s. I kinda have a hibiscus print dress, but it's black on white :)

Blues said...

I'm the same. My holidays are never about resting and are always about cramming in doing.

And your 200 dollar reasoning works for me.

I just went to Ireland last weekend and spent 700 euros I didn't have, goddammit. Do you know how expensive food is there? Even if your only food is Smithwicks? It would have been cheaper to go to fucking Mexico, even from here probably.

Jessica said...

Please read the Sookie Stackhouse novels on your vacation.

Gypsy said...

But I think I CAN hear your brain. Have fun!

Rassles said...

Chamuca: Have you been listening to the George Washington song lately?

RF: Mayhaps I will. I mean, who says steampunk can't be trashy?

Thanny: Shizzle.

MoL: Don't you mean...when in Cancun? a;klfj;ajfl;kasdjfa sdfasdkfja;sdlkfjasd;lfkjasd;fkljasd;flkjasd fasd;klfjasd;lfkjasd;fl I slay me.

ML: BUS!

Franklin: But recommendations that I will take heartily into consideration.

Daisy: I know right?

Chris: If it wasn't all-inclusive, I would not be going. I promise.

JMH: I think I'll avoid the palm trees altogether, because movement is not on my itinerary.

Mia: No I'm not. I fucking swear.

Sid: See other blog entry.

Nurse: Are you sure about that? Because I'm a pain in the ass.

Kono: I prefer "Alone," but who's judging?

Tabbie: Man, this trip is proving to be more expensive than I thought. I need to buy like bathing suits and cottony dresses and all that business.

Sack Possit: Well then. Nice.

Stillie: I'm so glad I'm not meeting the massive punch of "ugg, you lame American" that I was expecting.

Red: Damn, girl, look at you. And ain't nothing wrong with hibiscus print dresses. They're just not me.

Blues: YOU SHOULD COME TO MEXICO ANYWAY. You can be my interpreter.

Jessica: Already got those under my belt, bitch.

Gypsy: Oh yeah? Can you hear me now?