I'm back from the glorious Pacific Northwest. I'm full, I'm relaxed, I'm a little windblown and may possibly be on the wagon. Or not.
I know, I know- the last thing most of you worker bees want to hear about is some layabout like myself going on a wonderful vacation where they leave their nonexistent worries, their laptop, and their liver behind.
So, I thought I'd make you feel like you were there and enjoyed every cheesy, winey, beachy, touristy and eat-y moment with me. Just pretend that I kicked the Mr. to the curb and you and I jetted off on a: romantic getaway/girl's weekend/"Hey we just broke out of rehab- let's have some fun!" vacation.
Make believe is fun! Imagining is fun!
Well, except when your mom told you that one time to "imagine" yourself with a boyfriend because no one wants to kiss a potty mouth, and then she said while you're at it why don't you "imagine" getting someone to marry little Miss MessyMessy because no man in his right mind marries a slob...
But otherwise, make believe is fun! Right?
Day one of our journey has us flying the friendly skies. Look at us all hopped up on Ativan taking pictures of ourselves in the bathroom! Wasn't that a hoot how the people waiting in line looked confused, probably because they kept seeing a flash going off in the potty in the sky?
That was fun. Not quite "flying coach and packed in tighter than Tommy Lee's junk in a speedo" fun, but fun just the same.
I'm so glad we decided to spend two days in Seattle before heading to the shore! I love Seattle so very, very much. Cooler weather, not too much sun to burn my "delicate little flower" pasty white skin, a big body of water, and relatives living there so we have a free and lovely place to crash.
Since all we did the first night was enjoy a fabulous meal in a stunning Hilltop house surrounded by nothing but amazing view after amazing view and got waaaaaayyyyy too drunk on wine and was kind of (but not too) retarded, perhaps we should skip to day two.
Good morning! Let's go to Pike Place market- I hear they throw fish around and stuff.
Holy crap, that's a lot of people, but we came here to see things, and see things we will, dammit!
Didn't you love those perfect raspberries that we bought and ate the whole pint while we walked around? I sure did. Yum. Remember how we bought Ranier cherries and ate fish and chips and drank that lovely local brew that helped your hangover a teensy bit?
Yeah, me too.
Oh, there you go again...you.
You never miss a chance to catch me fondling myself in public, do you?
If this whole cooking thing doesn't work out, I think I have found my next place of employment.
Wasn't that fun meeting up with the other WM and the Mr's cousin later that night? Boy howdy, we sure drank a ton o' wine at that fancy place. That other WM is quite a sexy little firecracker, don't you know. We drank, we ate, we gossiped , she licked you and we all told each other many of our dirty little secrets...
Too bad I can't tell you any of them or show you pictures, but we dished, broke glassware and photo'd plenty.
Evidence exists. Trust me.
And we looked hot.
Again, you'll just have to trust me.
Wow- didn't Sunday come fast?
Before we knew it, it was time to round up bail money and head to the Oregon coast. That side trip we drove to Portland sure was fun- too bad we only had time to pick up our relatives from the train station and attempt to park to get the "holy grail of donuts donut" here. I was so sad to not procure a MAPLE BACON DONUT for myself that some of my Mr's relatives took pity on me and bought me a few on a day trip later in the week. Bacon and donuts- it's a winning combination. Yum.
Man oh man, did we stay in a nice house or what? Remember how you peed your pants when you saw how close to the nice end of the beach it was and that you could smell the fresh ocean air the minute you got out of the car and it made you so happy that you started planning ways to move there?
Home sweet swanky home, at least for the week:
How very lucky we are-
we could have ended up in this place:
Gosh, how many times did we walk up and down the boardwalk? It was so nice and picturesque. People were so friendly, they didn't even seem to mind you drinking that 40 in the paper bag and puking a little in front of their children.
Here we are posing on the beach in Ecola (not to be confused with e.coli or Ebola) State Park. I'm sure glad you got a little sun that day- you sure were pasty.
That was cute how you just kept mumbling "pretty beach, pretty beach..." while rocking back and forth and staring maniacally at the waves. Adorable.
We had quite a hike that day, didn't we? Six miles on the Tillamook Trail with a 1,200-foot elevation? Holy balls, it sure was a tough one, but the stunning views and banana slugs were worth it, I think.
When you took this picture of me to prove that I could, indeed, hike somewhere that didn't involve a martini and a barstool at the end, well- that sure was funny. I think I proved my hiking awesomeness that day. I wanted to tackle the hike that had a 3,200-foot elevation later in the week- but alas, we ran out of time. Had it not killed me I think it would have at the very least conjured up some wicked cool hallucinations.
Lookout #1 gave us a view of this lighthouse built waaay out in the water. It was funny when you suggested moving there so that I could never find you again and you could have some peace and quiet. Good luck, bucko- I'd find you in two days, tops. I'm crafty like that.
It was a looooooooong way down. One slip and we would have been compost for the slugs.
When we were finally back from the hike, FOUR HOURS LATER, we were more than content to just put our feet up with a beer and watch the sun set.
Well- that is, after we had a chef-prepared (no, it wasn't me, silly. I don't cook on vacation- it's a rule) dinner with garlic cream halibut, paella, pear, raspberry & goat cheese salad and key lime cheesecake for dessert.
And after we drank lots of wine.
The next day I had a hankering for a corn dog. I figured that if I was going to violate my "no wieners" rule and eat my second one in 15 years that it should be in the form of a deep-fried, hand-dipped wiener from the place next to the bumper cars on the main drag.
Mmmmm....delicious, delicious wiener.
I love me the wiener.
After all of that gluttony and wienery, we decided to head to the beach and soak in the sun a bit. Remember how you made fun of my feet and called them "busted"? And then I kicked you in the crotch?
That was fun too.
Almost as much fun as playing in the sand, wading in the (pretty cold but not too bad for a Northern MN girl) water, looking for sand dollars, dozing in the sun and having margaritas on the beach was.
You sure were a clever little trickster when you tried to substitute butter for my SPF 70. I figured out the ruse when I heard sizzling and smelled bacon.
You so silly.
I sure wish you hadn't cried like a baby when I told you that it was time to go home. Not your proudest moment, methinks. You knew it would be your last chance to see the mountains up close and before they looked like this:
Say bye bye to the beach!
Good thing you forked over your weekly wine allowance to the airline so that you could upgrade to first class on the way home! However, I am worried that now that you've enjoyed the amenities (read: free booze) of the front, roomy rows, you will forever be ruined. Coach will seem even more like a factory farm than it already does. The $4 wine will leave a bitter taste in your mouth and no one will care if you want a pillow.
Flying will, once again, suck balls.
Yeah, yeah- I know we did a lot more stuff that I didn't write about here. No, I'm not going to tell them about that trip to the underpants factory you wanted to go on so desperately. No one cares. And yes, I left out the part of how I consumed approximately 15 pounds of Tillamook cheese, bushels of Doritos, 3 pounds of guacamole and 45 bottles of white wine in a week. No one needs to know that, and thank you for outing me and sending me into a shame spiral. Everyone already read about my little "escapade" with the flea circus and the pet store in the paper the other day. Just let it go, o.k?
This is exactly why I never take you anywhere, dammit.
And, yes- I know I was a total slob and pretty much lived in my gray hoodie all week. It's called a vacation, folks. Vacation from glamour, vacation from makeup, vacation from basic personal hygiene. It was lovely. I highly recommend it.