humorous thoughts on adulthood, because we're all in this rickety tree-house of life together

Tag Archives: vacation

Grab your red solo cup!  We’ve got a summer to celebrate!

Rumor has it that some people actually have to work, but that’s not going to ruin our summer mojo!  Oh no!  You need the jet-pack to get the party goin’?  Well, here it is.  The all-things-summer post to get you started.

1st up:  Drinking!

As a big girly drink fan, I know many of us are excited to find a new beverage that applies.  This summer’s go-to:  Bacardi Limon and Pepsi/Coke/Coke Zero.  Perfect for a mixed well that you can actually get at EVERY bar.

Although still a huge fan of strawberry daiquiri Dailys, I’ve got options for all you cheap wine partakers.  Leave the box o’ wine and glasses at home.  Just pack your Arbor Mist pouches and go!

And if you’re more of an absolute ease can drinker (or a guy who has to look manly with tall boys in his cooler), you have to check out the Budweiser Margarita in a can known as the Lime-A-Rita.  My friends lived on them in Vegas!

But don’t be afraid to use that freezer!  Freeze your pop, your kool-aid, your Crystal light, oh, or that new Nestle Pure Life Splash in grape, lemon, or orange tastes fab!  Pull it out, chop it into a slushie, and add your vodka or rum.  Ta-da!  Kids won’t even know you’re on drink #5.

But drinking alone does not make a summer.  (Okay, so some of you might argue that point, but…)

2nd on the summer patio:  the proper music.

You mix your drinks.  I mix your playlist.  What will make it feel like summer 2012 on your stereo?  Here goes:

Red Solo Cup (Really?  How could it not be on the list?) – Toby                    Starships (beach party!)

We Are Young (if only this were true…ha ha.) – Fun                                         Dance Again (Latin heat) – JLO

Pontoon (layin’ out on the stripper deck, motorboatin’)                                                Ain’t in No Hurry (Duh!)

Somethin’ ‘bout a Truck (hike that red sundress)                                                              Call Me Maybe (or not)

What Makes You Beautiful (you gotta have a boy band!)                                              How We Do (Party!) – Rita Ora

Drunk on You (and high on summertime – oh yeah!)

Whistle (What’s a party without Flo Rida?)

Springsteen (oh, those memories will get cha in trouble!)

3rd on the summer hit list:  Water!

A drink in the hand and background rhythm can only mean you need to cool off in the water.

Go to the pool.  Go to the lake. Go to a water park or a wave pool.  Find a lazy river.  Grab your skis.  Hit the tubing trail or the tanking route.  Heck, fill up the baby wading pools in the backyard if you have to, but get your splash on Brad Paisley style!

4th place but not last place:  the lounge chair!

After water comes rest…(and probably another drink)  Pull out that lawn chair to lay on with your summer scent of Coppertone 45 and relax with a good book.  Need some summer reading?

Tearjerker:  Sisters Everlasting.  You’ll bawl like when your 16-year-old boyfriend dumped your ass.  It’s the turning 30 update of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, but the pants are off and the Kleenexes are out!

Steamy smut:  If you haven’t already been hot and bothered by the Fifty Shades of Gray, then what in the hell are you waiting for?  Holy cow!  Go buy the trilogy.  It’s like 3 books of spring break jailhouse romping.  Perfect for you male readers to get some ideas, too.

Funny real-life shit:  Jeneration X is your ticket to laughter.  You won’t even remember it’s hot out!

However, I do not want you Kentucky fried in the sun, so make sure you wear your redneck chiller bracelets.  Grab a couple of your kids’ Mr. Freezes from the freezer and duck tape the ends together on each one, then slip on your wrists to keep cool.  If the pressure point on the insides of your wrists are cool, you stay cooler.  Nothing some duck tape and 10 cent Mr. Freezes can’t handle.  How’s that for kickin’ it old-skool?

And while you’re lounging on your chair, the spouse can be whipping up food on the grill.  Thanks to Ore-Ida making it simple for the hubs with their new griller line, he can make waffle fries on the grill to have with your steak and shish kabobs!  Mmmm….

Finally, the deal sealer of the Top 5:  the elite event

Anybody can hang out on their back deck with drinks, suntan lotion, snacks, and the baby pool, but you gotta have an outing to remember.  Summer is all about that random, unexpectedly fun jaunt you got conned into on the hottest day of the year so far.

So grab your cooler, your bag chairs, and your cash and find a concert, a 4th of July parade (see Oakland, Iowa), Shakespeare on the Green, a local flea market/farmer’s market, county fair, or a melon festival.  (Yes, boys, I said that just for you.)  You’ll find a new winery, take pictures of a scantily clad Speedo wearer, or pet an alligator.  There’s guaranteed to be something for you to talk about come Monday morning.  And if not, I guess you still have your redneck chiller bracelets. Lol.

Happy Summer 2012!

 


ROADTRIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Got big vacation plans for the summer?  One with the fam?  A second honeymoon?  Or a mancation?  I’m headed out with my girls (although we’re flying, not driving), but I have realized that packing should be a case study, or at least a suit-case study (ha ha… come on, laugh with me.  It was funny.  Don’t be like that!).  It never fails to amaze me the difference between a man and woman packing to go someplace.

Men, am I right?  Do you all just grab a bag 15 minutes before you leave and drop crap in making sure you have plenty of underwear and your “other pair” of shoes and figure you can just buy anything you don’t have when you get there?  Oh, and if you’re going by car, I’m sure the cooler gets packed long before your wife!  Is this not how it works?  Or do you have a wife or girlfriend who just takes care of all of it for you (I can see her shaking her head at you as we speak)?  In my experience, those are the only 2 options.

Women are a whole different ballgame.  I have come to the conclusion that we make it an art form.  Packing for women is, at a minimum, a week-long process.    I guarantee you I am not alone in the fact that if a woman is leaving her family she makes sure they have food to eat, clean clothes to wear, and an emergency phone list.  Or if she’s taking the whole family on a roadtrip she has coolers packed with everyone’s favorite treats, beverages so it’s cheaper, and games to entertain the kids so she doesn’t have to go all backwoods on their asses with a sing-a-long of Kumbayah.  That’s just how it goes!

I pondered why that is.  Why is it that we contemplate how many pairs of shoes it’s “legal” to take?  Why do we have a list a mile long that makes us so worn out by the time we get to vacation that we’re either sick or sporting a white-trash-cold-sore the size of Eastern Kentucky?  Why is it that we don’t just pack a bag for ourselves and call it good?  My deductions –

  1.  We like the anticipation of a vacation, and we’re willing to blame it on packing (Hello, foreplay.  It fits our mold.)
  2.  We know that unless we start early, it will be a foul-smelling carload of family members (laundry – a woman’s fact of life)
  3.  We cannot willy nilly a suitcase – there’s no “Oh, I’ll just hop down to Walgreens for a 32E bra or a new set of birth control pills!
  4.  We cannot be Baby’s sister from Dirty Dancing (“Mom, I knew I should have brought the coral shoes!!!!” – AMEN!)
  5.  No woman wants to come home to see her home has been over-run with shit piles she has to high-step and find take-out boxes littering the house as well as fruit flies swarming the week-old, dead banana peels in the kitchen trash can.

Am I right?  Does that pretty much cover it?  I also happen to think we feel that if we are ultra-organized and prepared that our vacation will therefore go better and properly.  We like to control things.  Well, that and if we roll our clothes instead of dumping them in, we can get in twice as many options (and shoes!!!)  for the week and they won’t be wrinkled.  My husband has a different theory:  he says we just like to torture ourselves so that we firmly believe we deserve the vacation once we get there.  Is he all wrong?  Well, I’d hate to admit my opinion on it so I’ll leave you to your own opinions.

All I can say is that I gotta go.  I gotta pack my silver shoes, because nobody puts Baby in the corner!  Happy Vacay!

(P.S.  –I’ve also added my oh-so-timeless list of packing necessities in case you need a little help prepping for your trip away.  If you see something I missed, be sure to share!)

Packing List:

Happy Smiles

Driver’s License

Car or outlet phone charger

Cash (for alcoholic beverages)

Credit card

Underwear

Bras (only if you’re female, or not… I guess)

Socks (even in summer)

Sunscreen (and lotion)

PJs (if you wear ‘em, but please don’t tell me!)

Bug spray

A jacket/sweatshirt

Multiple pairs of shoes (that you can walk in)

Band-aids (for the blisters for the shoes you thought you could walk in)

Hair products (shampoo, conditioner, blow dryer, brush, comb, accessories)

Make-up bag (if anybody’s going to see you)

Camera (be sure to get those swampy 3 day unwashed hair day looks)

Shorts, jeans, t-shirts, dresses (if you must – lol)

Toothbrush and toothpaste (please, for all of us)

DEODERANT!!!  (AND a razor!!!)

Reading material (Hello, Summer Vacay! by bolton carley can be purchased here: http://www.amazon.com/Hello-Summer-Vacay-Brianna-tell-it-all-book-ebook/dp/B003FMV4SW)

Ipod, GPS, DS, Cell Phone

Snacks

Swimsuit (I know – it’s a special kind of torture, but you’ll be glad you have it!)

Sunglasses!!! (for hangovers or otherwise…)

The right company (shout-out to my Loop Girls!)


So if you haven’t noticed, I took a little hiatus.  Listen, if Glee can do it, so can I!  Anyway, I was outta town.  I wouldn’t say on vacation because I don’t think that 114 degrees and sitting in a cattle barn is considered a good time, but whatever.  Bottom line is that I spent some quality time in Missouri and Minnesota and I saw some pretty cool, yet overly unusual things. 

And I started to wonder:  do I miss the crazy, cool stuff that happens here because I’m not anticipating and looking for it, or does it just not happen here?  I know what you’re thinking – how could Nebraska be anything less than exciting?  Exactly!  It’s not 90210, but I’m obviously just oblivious once I get in the 6 8 double 00 five.

As for my week’s travels outside the 402, I have stories to tell of the following variety:

For one, as we were wreaking around through Minny traffic ala a genuine French man’s driving (who is an AMAZING driver I might add), we saw a dog hanging out of a Harley driver’s saddlebags.  I kid you not.  And if that wasn’t original enough, the lab puppy riding shotgun was sporting goggles.  Think Snoopy playing the Red Baron.  Purina would pay good money for that!  If only I had a pic to prove it.  Unfortunately, me and my inept Droid ways weren’t quite that quick.  However, the real point is:  how often do you see that shit?

But I did get better with my camera phone for the next piece of coolness.  Did you know that they have a Pedal Pub in Minneapolis?  Yeah, you rent it for a party.  In this case, it was some cute bachelor party boys making the old college route.  Guess they eat and drink heavily from a barrel keg that’s mounted on the wagonesque-type wood vehicle that you have to pedal to move like a bike.  No lie.  It’s perfect:  you get drunk but you work off all the calories and there’s no possibility of a DUI!  LOVE it!

Another fave pastime when roadtripping is checking out the high-quality car art.  My favorite bumper sticker of the week was a Missouri one, or as we call it, Mizz-ur-uh, because we were deep enough in the stix that it seems only appropriate to say it that way, and don’t be getting all high and mighty and telling me to quit being a snob, a lot of my family are from there.  I’ve got the breeding so if I want to make fun of their sweet-tea, long-syllable ways, I will!  My point really was that I found the highlight car décor for the week:  God bless our troops, especially the snipers!  Yeah, I don’t care who ya are, that’s funny crap right there!  See, that’s the great thing about the South, they tell it like it is!  Plus, I actually learned that one of the guys sitting in the bag chair next to me as my butt was leaving ass crack sweat on my jeans was a former sniper.  How crazy is that?  Guess I now know who not to piss off!  (Oh, so, that whole comment about Mizzuruh- let’s disregard that, shall we?)

But if you want total bizarreness, it would have to be my venture into the world of poetry slam.  Dark bars and fanatical fans.  Let’s just say I stood out like the devil in church!  People who do poetry slam have drama oozing out of them and off their skin in the form of 500 tattoos.  Do I respect their abilities and their craft?  Hell, yeah.  Am I thankful for my regular diligence to personal hygiene and lack of physical abuse and shitty life experiences?  Hell, yeah!  Will I be showing them how it’s done?  Hell, no!  I’m pretty sure I’d lose my lunch if spaghetti-strapped biker chick hunted me down in the hallway.

Basically, after all that, it makes me question if I just don’t pay attention to the crazy stuff that happens at home, or if it just doesn’t happen. But then I started pondering my life here and, ya know, it’s full of randomness.  I guess I just don’t frame it as the stuff that makes a great YouTube video. 

I mean:  who has a pet deer that visits their yard everyday that they name Roland because he Rolls on in AND makes himself at home.  He doesn’t even flinch when I open the door and ask him why his friend feels the need to eat my hostas.  And maybe it’s not normal to take pictures of cattle, especially when I insist they must be set up correctly with ears forward, back leg away from the camera having to be ahead of the camera side.  Maybe other people don’t talk about dressing dead bodies at the family holiday supper table. 

Guess it’s possible that we don’t always recognize what’s right in front of us. Maybe we don’t always stop to smell the roses or pick more daisies as the poets speak of, but lucky for me, what’s currently in front of me I don’t have to sniff or pluck, I just have to watch.  My TV and DVR boasts a record number of shows begging me to appreciate them in all their glory. 

But you can have the roses and daisies if you want…


How I make it feel like summer at my house…

1.  It isn’t summer at my house until I watch Dirty Dancing.  I fully admit it.  I love that she carried a watermelon.  I love that they do the mashed potato, and that Patrick Swayze can’t help but watch her change through the rearview mirror in the car.  Besides, nobody puts Baby in the corner.  That’s why she’s at my house every summer.

2.  Summer also starts when I clean the lawn chair so I can lay out, and I break out the bug spray and suntan lotion. It seems necessary since I’ve harped on my husband for so long about not getting skin cancer, I suppose the same principles have to apply to me.  That said, if I had a cute cabana boy to apply it to me, it would be even better!

3. Of course, I also start every summer with high expectations that are dashed almost instantly.  I think I’m going to do the once-a-year-good-solid-cleaning of every room in our house.  By day 3 of summer, I have realized I will never make it through the entire house AND enjoy my summer if I actually take the time to dust things like the ceiling fan.  Anybody know the number for Merry Maids???

4. And why do I realize on day 3 I’m never getting everything done?  Well, it’s probably because I have to stop and turn on the French Open.  Yes, I love to watch tennis.  I can hear your comments already.  Scoff if you will, I will be melting over Andy Roddick and hiding my eyes from Venus’ ass while you’re wearing dress pants and staring out the window of your office.

5. Next, I buy new razors.  Because, amazingly enough, I might be in public in the near future.  Plus, I might not want to show the world my hairy winter white legs.  (Don’t even tell me that you don’t do the same thing if you’re female.  I know I shave more often than a lot of you, but I will refrain from naming names, but assume yours is on the list!)

6. Finally, I get irritated with my husband.  Without fail, at the beginning of every summer when I’m already worried that my summer will fly by way faster than I want it to, I get mad at my hubby.  It’s really not his fault that I get this panic attack over my summer to-do list and how he can’t join me for any of the events (much to his great luck, he’d tell you). 

I am a summer widow left to my own devices as my husband makes all the money and works a million hours.  See, I know.  He should be the one annoyed with me that I get to lounge around the house while he works ridiculous hours, but in fact, it is I that gets cranky.  The man can’t win, because I want it all! 

I want a summer of luxury.  I want a summer of all my projects done.  I want a summer of seeing friends and family.  I want a summer of laying out, going to the pool, and vegetating on my couch.  Oh, and maybe I want my significant other to actually go on a vacation with me when we won’t freeze our asses off!  I know.  I live in a dream world…but don’t laugh at me, or I’ll sic my husband on you.  And I can already tell you what he’ll say as he’s putting you in your place, “Nobody puts Baby in the corner!” 

But hopefully, somebody someday makes Baby a trophy wife!



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