Did you know you can travel to another country and meet people from your own backyard?
The PPP’s had a [quiet, safe and sober] great time in Mexico. The disco was where we made the party happen. Yes, WE made the party happen. Because we are that amazing.
Second night, hanging outside the hotel lobby where we [did not] could smoke. I’m not sure what we were talking about - I’m sure it was riveting. All of a sudden, “Did you say you were from Texas?” And there begins the most interesting night.
New Texas Friend #1 (hereby known as NTF1) lives in Houston. He was a cutey (say thanks NTF1!), but I’m pretty sure that when he wandered off sometimes he was mackin’ on some 20 year olds. At least that’s what his friend (known here as NTF2) said. HAHA. NTF2, and this is crazy, lives in Carrollton. I work in Carrollton. Who knew?
So, here we all are. [Not] Drinking and [junior high] dancing. Um, sure, we kept it clean. Well, saintly, really, compared to the eye-violations from the night before. Let’s just say it was fun.
PPP2 got dropped on the floor. We’re still not sure what was supposed to happen, but pretty sure that being dropped wasn’t it.
PPP1 likes to dance. She even got a lap dance, of sorts, from one of the NTF’s. She is quite popular!
PPP3 learned to salsa. Ok, she didn’t really learn, but she tried! Learning salsa is hard when you are [not] drinking.
PPP4 left with one of the NTF’s. She swears she told her fellow PPP’s, but they don’t think so. PPP4 will hear about this so called “incident” for a while now because she worried the other ones, even though she also swears nothing happened.
It’s a shame the NTF’s are taken, because, well, it would definitely be fun to do this more often. Hey, guys, whenever you’re single…
And, yes, we have pictures of everything. Pictures that the masses don’t get to see.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
It Doesn't Really Stay There
Ah, Mexico. Where anything can happen. Beautiful views of turquoise water, white sand, fluffy white clouds, hot guys…
The Moon Palace was pretty amazing. It had a ton of restaurants, shopping, bars and water. It also had a disco dance club and bar. Hmmm, I wonder where all the fun stuff happened?
But, I will tell you about the first day of our vacation. We got to the airport about 9:30 for our 11:40 flight to Houston where we were to catch a 1:40 flight to Cancun. We left Dallas at 2:50, missing the 3:55 connection which meant we weren’t going to leave Houston until 6:55. We finally left at 7:50 and arrived in Cancun about 9:20. After going through customs, getting our luggage and driving to the resort and checking in, we got to our room about 10:30.
13 hours to make a 3 hour trip. I will pay more for a non-stop flight from now on.
In spite of that, I was dedicated to having a fabulous time! We’d been in our rooms for about 5 minutes when my fabulous fellow PPP’s arrived. I changed into my super-cute party dress and down to the disco, where our eyes were completely violated.
The drinking age is 18 down there, which is great for all of the college kids. Most of the 18-20 ones were there with their parents. One little 18 year old girl decided that dirty was her middle name for the night. On the other side of the dance floor, up on the second level of seats, there she was. With some boy that must have been having the time of his life. Really, the only thing they did not do was take the clothes off. I’m still having a hard time getting the picture out of my head. Although we found at that her mother finally came and got her.
Night one was fun, but really doesn’t compare to night two. You know, the one involving rock stars, non-serial killers, DDB’s and “dirt”. It was the best night. Ever.
The Moon Palace was pretty amazing. It had a ton of restaurants, shopping, bars and water. It also had a disco dance club and bar. Hmmm, I wonder where all the fun stuff happened?
But, I will tell you about the first day of our vacation. We got to the airport about 9:30 for our 11:40 flight to Houston where we were to catch a 1:40 flight to Cancun. We left Dallas at 2:50, missing the 3:55 connection which meant we weren’t going to leave Houston until 6:55. We finally left at 7:50 and arrived in Cancun about 9:20. After going through customs, getting our luggage and driving to the resort and checking in, we got to our room about 10:30.
13 hours to make a 3 hour trip. I will pay more for a non-stop flight from now on.
In spite of that, I was dedicated to having a fabulous time! We’d been in our rooms for about 5 minutes when my fabulous fellow PPP’s arrived. I changed into my super-cute party dress and down to the disco, where our eyes were completely violated.
The drinking age is 18 down there, which is great for all of the college kids. Most of the 18-20 ones were there with their parents. One little 18 year old girl decided that dirty was her middle name for the night. On the other side of the dance floor, up on the second level of seats, there she was. With some boy that must have been having the time of his life. Really, the only thing they did not do was take the clothes off. I’m still having a hard time getting the picture out of my head. Although we found at that her mother finally came and got her.
Night one was fun, but really doesn’t compare to night two. You know, the one involving rock stars, non-serial killers, DDB’s and “dirt”. It was the best night. Ever.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The Mexican Rundown
I’m not sure where to start, because there are so many amazing stories. What can I say? Our2nd Annual Girl’s Trip was quite awesome. Today is Sunday, and at this point I’ve had a whopping 12-ish hours of sleep since Wednesday night. Here’s a quick rundown of the weekend to whet your appetite for more of my fabulous story telling.
After a 13 hours of traveling (one story), I changed into my party gear and did not drink and dance (story 2), during which time our eyes were completely violated. Spent the next day lounging by the beautiful pool and turquoise ocean while my liver may or may not have (nod to PPP1) needed to cleanse itself for the second night. The second night was slightly more interesting (a story that may or may not be told) time. Let’s just say that it involves rock stars, non-serial killers that did NOT get tapped (whatever PPP 2), definite DDB’s, and some “dirt”. After beating my head against the wall for reasons that shall not be explained, another fabulous day of nothing involving some very nice views, and some extremely gag-worthy views. A un-natural 5 am wakeup call was the end of the best time. Ever.
Looking forward to the next trip!
After a 13 hours of traveling (one story), I changed into my party gear and did not drink and dance (story 2), during which time our eyes were completely violated. Spent the next day lounging by the beautiful pool and turquoise ocean while my liver may or may not have (nod to PPP1) needed to cleanse itself for the second night. The second night was slightly more interesting (a story that may or may not be told) time. Let’s just say that it involves rock stars, non-serial killers that did NOT get tapped (whatever PPP 2), definite DDB’s, and some “dirt”. After beating my head against the wall for reasons that shall not be explained, another fabulous day of nothing involving some very nice views, and some extremely gag-worthy views. A un-natural 5 am wakeup call was the end of the best time. Ever.
Looking forward to the next trip!
Monday, March 16, 2009
The Most Awful Thing. Ever.
You know what the worst thing to do is?
Buy a swimsuit.
It is torture. When I was younger, before growing humans and gravity, I could wear almost any suit. I could go to the Victoria’s Secret swimsuit collection and pick the cutest one - no matter what it looked like.
Boy, times change. I’ve discovered that instead of 99% of the styles looking good, I now have 99% of the styles looking bad.
I bring this up because I am going on my annual girl trip to Mexico in a couple of days. Last year, I told myself that I wasn’t going to go the VS route, that I would be a normal person and go to Target and get a suit. OMW. I cannot describe the horror and depression. I broke down and bought a VS swim skirt.
This year, I went even crazier and bought a semi-swim dress. I didn’t even bother thinking about buying one at a store. They are all made for cute little girls whom gravity has not touched. This one has special material that keeps everything where it supposed to be. And I found this AFTER I had ordered and returned about three of them, and four days before my trip.
Swimsuits suck. I will be screening any and all Mexico pictures before allowing them to be seen by the public.
Buy a swimsuit.
It is torture. When I was younger, before growing humans and gravity, I could wear almost any suit. I could go to the Victoria’s Secret swimsuit collection and pick the cutest one - no matter what it looked like.
Boy, times change. I’ve discovered that instead of 99% of the styles looking good, I now have 99% of the styles looking bad.
I bring this up because I am going on my annual girl trip to Mexico in a couple of days. Last year, I told myself that I wasn’t going to go the VS route, that I would be a normal person and go to Target and get a suit. OMW. I cannot describe the horror and depression. I broke down and bought a VS swim skirt.
This year, I went even crazier and bought a semi-swim dress. I didn’t even bother thinking about buying one at a store. They are all made for cute little girls whom gravity has not touched. This one has special material that keeps everything where it supposed to be. And I found this AFTER I had ordered and returned about three of them, and four days before my trip.
Swimsuits suck. I will be screening any and all Mexico pictures before allowing them to be seen by the public.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Pigs
Have you seen those weird, and kind of gross, cell phone commercials? There’s the one with a girl and a guy riding a bike she’s got amazing underarm hair. I saw one recently of two huge hogs eating ham at a restaurant. I started laughing because it reminded me of a friend of mine that had a pig. We were cleaning up after a gathering at his house, and he was going to give the scraps to his pig. I jokingly asked if he wanted to put the ham with it. I got a no – he thought it was just wrong to give a pig ham. So, I think of that every time I see that commercial.
No point, just a memory.
No point, just a memory.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
In Preparation...
I can’t believe that MB starts kindergarten this year. He turns in five in May – I feel so old now!!
In preparation for the big day – his first day of school – we are catching up on things. Like shots. Icky shots.
We are a couple of years or so behind on them. With MG having ADHD, et al (you now read about that HERE), I put off getting him loaded up. I didn’t want to take a chance on them causing something to switch in his little brain, so it brings us to today. When we went to the doctor and got six shots.
SIX.
Luckily the nurses were quite fast, and it was over in less than a minute. But still, six shots in his little legs! I promised him ice cream after, so we went to Wendy’s and got chicken nuggets and a little vanilla frosty. He is now in his monkey jammies with his pillow, “orange” blankie (it’s really yellow, but he decided when he was smaller that it was going to be orange) and his little monkey (he likes monkies!). He gets to stay in the office and watch movies on the BIG TV. (He has chosen Cars, Ratatouille and Transformers). He’ll milk this for as much as he can (he’s kind of wimpy). And I’ll let him – for a couple of days – just because it was SIX shots.
In preparation for the big day – his first day of school – we are catching up on things. Like shots. Icky shots.
We are a couple of years or so behind on them. With MG having ADHD, et al (you now read about that HERE), I put off getting him loaded up. I didn’t want to take a chance on them causing something to switch in his little brain, so it brings us to today. When we went to the doctor and got six shots.
SIX.
Luckily the nurses were quite fast, and it was over in less than a minute. But still, six shots in his little legs! I promised him ice cream after, so we went to Wendy’s and got chicken nuggets and a little vanilla frosty. He is now in his monkey jammies with his pillow, “orange” blankie (it’s really yellow, but he decided when he was smaller that it was going to be orange) and his little monkey (he likes monkies!). He gets to stay in the office and watch movies on the BIG TV. (He has chosen Cars, Ratatouille and Transformers). He’ll milk this for as much as he can (he’s kind of wimpy). And I’ll let him – for a couple of days – just because it was SIX shots.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
So Small
It’s all because of my teeny little bladder that I was standing in the very cold, slightly windy (which is enough when it’s very cold) and rainy morning putting gas in my car.
My car has this neat feature that beeps at me when it hits 50 miles, 25 miles and 10 miles left to go on the tank. I knew yesterday that I had to get gas on the way home. I was down to about 20 miles, which would get me home. So, the plan was to stop at the bank (had to pay for MG’s swimming lessons), get some gas, pick up the kids, run home and grab some dinner for them, then off to swimming.
A good plan, except for the fact that I have a bladder the size of a pea.
I have grown two humans, and that wreaks havoc upon you. I get off work at 5, and get home between 5:45 and 6. At 4:57 every day, I use the facilities. I can then get to whatever my next stop is just fine.
When I am fighting a sickness (this is war - I’m going to Mexico in seven days!), I drink a ton of water, and therefore must go a lot more. Yesterday, at 4:58 I used the bathroom. Then I went to the bank and sat there for 10 minutes. Then it took 10 extra minutes on top of that to get to my side of town (where the gas is about $.10 to $.15 cheaper). I thought that if I had to spend another 10 minutes getting gas I would DIE. So, straight to the daycare (where it takes 10 minutes to get them - my life is run in 10 minute segments), and then home where I didn’t even wait for them to get out of the car. And thank goodness there is a bathroom right inside the front door.
So, that brings me to this cold, slightly windy and rainy day. It was about 80 degrees yesterday and nice weather for getting gas. And because of the rain, I was stuck going a whole one mile in 10 minutes, which also made me late for work.
There really is no lesson to be learned from this story. Just a warning to all of you that have not had children yet. One day you may be standing in a cold, rainy and slightly windy morning putting gas in your car just because of your teeny little bladder.
My car has this neat feature that beeps at me when it hits 50 miles, 25 miles and 10 miles left to go on the tank. I knew yesterday that I had to get gas on the way home. I was down to about 20 miles, which would get me home. So, the plan was to stop at the bank (had to pay for MG’s swimming lessons), get some gas, pick up the kids, run home and grab some dinner for them, then off to swimming.
A good plan, except for the fact that I have a bladder the size of a pea.
I have grown two humans, and that wreaks havoc upon you. I get off work at 5, and get home between 5:45 and 6. At 4:57 every day, I use the facilities. I can then get to whatever my next stop is just fine.
When I am fighting a sickness (this is war - I’m going to Mexico in seven days!), I drink a ton of water, and therefore must go a lot more. Yesterday, at 4:58 I used the bathroom. Then I went to the bank and sat there for 10 minutes. Then it took 10 extra minutes on top of that to get to my side of town (where the gas is about $.10 to $.15 cheaper). I thought that if I had to spend another 10 minutes getting gas I would DIE. So, straight to the daycare (where it takes 10 minutes to get them - my life is run in 10 minute segments), and then home where I didn’t even wait for them to get out of the car. And thank goodness there is a bathroom right inside the front door.
So, that brings me to this cold, slightly windy and rainy day. It was about 80 degrees yesterday and nice weather for getting gas. And because of the rain, I was stuck going a whole one mile in 10 minutes, which also made me late for work.
There really is no lesson to be learned from this story. Just a warning to all of you that have not had children yet. One day you may be standing in a cold, rainy and slightly windy morning putting gas in your car just because of your teeny little bladder.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Insanity
I love my kids. With all of my heart. I would do anything for them. Yes, they drive me crazy. They are kids, and that is what kids do. But that changes nothing.
I think most moms are programmed to protect their kids. (I say most because there are exceptions with crazy people.) They will do what they have to do to care for them. They will move heaven and earth to get whatever the kids need to not only live, but to be loved. They don’t just provide clothes, food and shelter, but cute clothes, food they like and is good for them, and a shelter that is filled with peace and cute sheets on their beds.
Sometimes a mom will do something that other people might think is insane, wrong, stupid - whatever. “Why would she do that?” Why? Because she wants her kids to be happy and loved. And sometimes it requires insane, wrong or stupid things to be done. She does not think they are any of those. She sees it as just one more possibility for her kids to lead the best life possible.
Not everyone knows the whole story of what’s behind her actions. They are not spur-of-the-moment actions. They have been deliberated extensively in her mind. The pros and cons have been weighed, every outcome she can think of prepared for. Sometimes a surprising (and not always welcome) outcome shows up, but she still does not regret what was done because she thought it best for her kids at the time.
She can’t regret, or she will live her whole life in regret. She can’t give way to second thoughts or allow what others think of her to get into her head. Her mission is her children, and she won’t let anything get in the way of that. She will go through hell for them, she will endure heartache and hardships, isolation and everything else that comes her way.
I love my kids. With all of my heart. I would do anything for them.
I think most moms are programmed to protect their kids. (I say most because there are exceptions with crazy people.) They will do what they have to do to care for them. They will move heaven and earth to get whatever the kids need to not only live, but to be loved. They don’t just provide clothes, food and shelter, but cute clothes, food they like and is good for them, and a shelter that is filled with peace and cute sheets on their beds.
Sometimes a mom will do something that other people might think is insane, wrong, stupid - whatever. “Why would she do that?” Why? Because she wants her kids to be happy and loved. And sometimes it requires insane, wrong or stupid things to be done. She does not think they are any of those. She sees it as just one more possibility for her kids to lead the best life possible.
Not everyone knows the whole story of what’s behind her actions. They are not spur-of-the-moment actions. They have been deliberated extensively in her mind. The pros and cons have been weighed, every outcome she can think of prepared for. Sometimes a surprising (and not always welcome) outcome shows up, but she still does not regret what was done because she thought it best for her kids at the time.
She can’t regret, or she will live her whole life in regret. She can’t give way to second thoughts or allow what others think of her to get into her head. Her mission is her children, and she won’t let anything get in the way of that. She will go through hell for them, she will endure heartache and hardships, isolation and everything else that comes her way.
I love my kids. With all of my heart. I would do anything for them.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Ok, One More Mexico Memory
I will start by saying that I did NOT know that you could get a dress wedgie. This was a new phenomenon to me. To me, dresses are pretty and do not give you wedgies. I learned otherwise in Mexico.
No, I did not experience a dress-wedgie first hand. Believe me, I am WAY past the days of wearing outfits that can do that. In fact, I don't think I have ever worn such an outfit.
This was something that I witnessed. And then went and dipped my eyeballs in acid.
We stayed at a nice resort in Cozumel - the Park Royal. (In fact, I am planning on returning with my friend in July for my birthday. Want to join us?) Also staying at the resort was a group of about 8-ish women. These women, upon a closer inspection, were not as young as they thought they were. Probably in their mid-thirties but looked a little older. From afar they were all bleached and spray-tanned and quite skanktastic.
Oh, yes. The outfits we saw them in at Carlos n Charlies one night were a-maze-ing. Of course, the guys with hoe-dar could sense them from a great distance. And I witnessed a phenomenon - hoe-dar gifted guys that found someone too, shall we say, "dress-wedgied."
We felt kind of sorry for them. They obviously did not really think very highly of themselves. But, at the same time, we had some awesome entertainment for one night.
Lesson - if your dress gives you a wedgie, you probably shouldn't wear it.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
More Mexico Memories
No Mexico Memories would be complete without Ron Jeremy Mustache Guy and Chicken Dance Man.
RJMG was as creepy as his name suggests. He was gross, but the only thing I really remember about his appearance was his gross AND creepy mustache. He decided he wanted to dance with PPP3. This was also the night we met some guys that were staying at the same hotel as us. We were all standing on one of the little balconies (sweltering again), and RJMG comes up to PPP3 and pretty much backed her into the corner of the balcony. Luckily, one of the guys from our hotel was standing there and intervened. He did not make a repeat appearance. PPP3 was a little grossed out.
Then CDM came along on the dance floor. He took a shine to one of our married PPP’s. (By the way, PPP stands for Princess Party Pantses in case you have forgotten. And, no, that is not a misspelling.) CDM was about 432 sheets-to-the-wind and most definitely had a severe case of Alcohol Amnesia. Every two minutes he would forget that he had been very clearly rejected and would come back. At least seven times. After the third time, PPP4 just started mocking him, doing the chicken dance around him. He thought he was awesome. We thought he was an idiot.
So, in 15 days, we make a trip to the Riviera Maya, where there is the original - and much larger - Senior Frogs about 10 miles away in Cancun. Some new PPP’s will be joining us this year, and it promises to be just as memorable as last year.
I bet you can’t wait for the stories!
RJMG was as creepy as his name suggests. He was gross, but the only thing I really remember about his appearance was his gross AND creepy mustache. He decided he wanted to dance with PPP3. This was also the night we met some guys that were staying at the same hotel as us. We were all standing on one of the little balconies (sweltering again), and RJMG comes up to PPP3 and pretty much backed her into the corner of the balcony. Luckily, one of the guys from our hotel was standing there and intervened. He did not make a repeat appearance. PPP3 was a little grossed out.
Then CDM came along on the dance floor. He took a shine to one of our married PPP’s. (By the way, PPP stands for Princess Party Pantses in case you have forgotten. And, no, that is not a misspelling.) CDM was about 432 sheets-to-the-wind and most definitely had a severe case of Alcohol Amnesia. Every two minutes he would forget that he had been very clearly rejected and would come back. At least seven times. After the third time, PPP4 just started mocking him, doing the chicken dance around him. He thought he was awesome. We thought he was an idiot.
So, in 15 days, we make a trip to the Riviera Maya, where there is the original - and much larger - Senior Frogs about 10 miles away in Cancun. Some new PPP’s will be joining us this year, and it promises to be just as memorable as last year.
I bet you can’t wait for the stories!
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