There comes a time in a person's life, when vacationing with family must come to a screeching halt. I have not only reached this point in my life, I surpassed it a few years back. I absolutely love my family, don't get me wrong, they are all amazing...IN SMALL DOSES. (Sorry G-ma.) Let me explain...
A week or so before we were scheduled to leave for Myrtle Beach, my parents decided to bail on my brothers and I. Dad needed to work, and Mom needed to get some things done in peace and quiet. (She was the intelligent one.) So my sweet, slightly insane grandparents decided to call the hotel and rent a larger room so that they could accommodate their 3 grandchildren. At first this seemed to be a good option, because it was...FREE for Josh and I to go. (I stress the word FREE when you are a poor college student.) Anyway-we were saddened by the fact that Ma and Pa wouldn't be coming, but were still excited to spend time away from MoHo.
That was until crap hit the proverbial fan. Almost immediately it became clear that my sanity would only remain if I continuously remain out of the hotel, on the beach, and with my ipod blasting my brain with Taylor Swift. My G-ma (bless her heart) decided to become the "food patrol." Every time I even thought about eating something with more than 100 calories I was given a guilt trip..."Now Kristen, I don't believe that's on your diet." Or "Kristen, I can't believe you ate that GIANT PIECE OF CHEESECAKE...it's just not worth it to be skinny." First, if anyone even thinks about coming inbetween Tripp's cheesecake drenched in strawberries and me, you better be prepared to fight. And by fight I mean, tackling, hair pulling, scratching, screaming, yelling, kind of fighting. And secondly, I have lost close to 25 pounds, I deserve my week in the sun...or in the "fat foods" section of the grocery store or restaurant menu. Back off calorie police!
Mom decided to fly down at the beginning of the week. We were all excited that she was coming. As we were waiting for her flight come in, I received a call from my incredibly panic stricken mother. She had missed her flight in Cincinnati. Of course, Cincinnati, that stupid Carson Palmer has cursed the entire city, including the airport, and he is entirely to blame for my mother missing her plane. After spending, I don't know, 6 hours on the phone with Delta, I rescheduled her flight for the next day, and gave Mom a rather long pep-talk about flying alone, and not freaking out.
Anyway-there were enjoyable parts to the week. I will never tire of sitting in the surf, half asleep feeling the warm sun on my body, and the cool ocean on my feet...that is until some idiot throwing a temper tantrum while on a walk with his lady, stomps a bit to hard and splashes cold water all over my face. I wanted to say, "Thanks for interrupting my few precious minutes of quiet sanity." But I refrained. I also really enjoy sitting on the balcony listening to the ocean waves...until my G-pa decided to walk out and hocker a giant mucus ball into a handkerchief, completely removing any zen-like vibes I was feeling from the waves. (I can still hear it!) I also enjoyed the USS North Carolina (my second trip to the beauty), and thinking ahead, I remembered how hot it can get below decks, so I decided to wear a cute little sundress...until I started down the first flight of incredibly steep metal steps, my Sony Alpha 300 dangling from one hand, did the breeze catch my "cute little dress" just right, and I ended up flashing all the nice adorable families, including children, veterans, and masses of conservative people my green striped underwear. Yes...shoot me now, please.
Next year I will have my own room...possibly in another hotel. I need a vacation to recover from my vacation. UGH! Pictures to follow.
