Home.

When you arrive at your beachside hotel in Mexico, a woman glides by in a swim suit and an appropriately casual and drapey cover up thingie looking tan and glistening and make-up free and ethereal, all while your own shoulders are up to your ears. Wet splotches circle your underarms, there are food substances of unknown origin on your pants, and ouch – did your skin just cause permanent retinal damage in the desk clerk? Sorry señor.

Slowly, slowly you settle in. You relax a little more each day. You turn down the offer to read a paper. You forget to charge your phone for four straight days. You forget to check your email. Heck, you forget your email password.

It doesn’t matter that the kids are up at 6 every single morning because there’s a beach bed under a thatched-roof cabana out there with your name on it. The day’s activities consist of wave jumping, amateur sand castle construction, “motorboating” in the pool, and falling deeper in love with your two little girls. Sometimes you even take a break from all the hard work to just stare at the sliver moon in the daytime sky.

At night? Tequila.

(Also a truly surreal bit of “entertainment” in which Mexican So You Think You Can Dance rejects recreate dance routines from movies like Dirty Dancing and Evita. The highlight was most definitely a medley introduced with “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN…A GREAT HOLLYWOOD FAVORITE…THE GREASE!”)

You find your routine. You find your mojo. You’re on first-name basis with the beach waiters and you know exactly which bartender mixes the best margarita. You’re not rested exactly, but you’re not anxious either. Soon enough, you’re that woman, the one meandering barefoot through the open air lobby as the pale arriving tourists pull up their knee socks.

And the moment that the transformation is complete always falls on the exact day it’s time to go home.

Rats.

—-

Eh, it’s not all bad. I’ve got Julie’s virtual shower to celebrate (you’re invited too!) and a whole new season of Rock of Love. Plus I get to be a dick walking around with a tan in zero-degree wind chill.


{24 Comments}

24 thoughts on “Home.”

  1. It’s funny, isn’t it? It’s like having to leave high school just when, as a senior, you’ve finally begun to have fun, you’re finally feeling as if you own the place…Welcome home!

  2. It’s a cruel, cruel twist that is meant to be that jolt needed to get back to reality. Sad but true.And yes, The Grease – who doesn’t love The Danny Zucco and TheSandy Olsson?

  3. thank god! i don’t have nearly enough friends who are dicks now – i need another one. looks like you came back just in time. 🙂

  4. i was just getting so excited, planning my 30th bday vacation to maui–and!! i even get to dismiss the money as going to a good cause, because i have to take my dad’s ashes there. he’s been dead since 2004, so i think it’s about time, you know?but you just reminded me that i’m going to have to come back. and that is a major bummer.oh well. i’m sure it will be great while it lasts.p.s.i’m glad you had an awesome time! did you bring your thighs back, or no? if not, i’d like some pointers as to how you pulled that off.

  5. Welcome back. Glad to hear you enjoyed your time – and I feel for you being pulled from paradise before you were bored of it.But I, for one, am glad to have you blogging again!

  6. Welcome back. Now that you have to returned to the arctic, you might need something to do indoors. I always love peeling those long strips of dead skin off of my legs after a good vacation like that. Have fun!

  7. Glad you had a good vacation, but I’m selfishly thrilled that you are home to blog again. What did your girls think of Mexico?

  8. Oh dear god. I think that part of my brain just imploded reading your first paragraph.And? TAN? If I didn’t love you so much I’d have to hate you.

  9. Welcome back!I hear you regarding just getting relaxed and it is time to come home…vacations are never long enough!

  10. Q: How the hell do you travel w/ an infant?????In anticipation of an upcoming week long trip to the beach, I had a trial run sleepover w/ my eight month old to my parents. My kid completelely freaked and protested the pack n play. He sleeps 12-13 hrs a night in HIS crib at HIS home! I’m scared he won’t sleep anywhere else and my upcoming trip will be HELL. I am desperate for advice! Thanks.

  11. It takes a few days to get on Mexico time, but once there is sure is heaven. (Did you eat some coconut ice cream….it is so heavenly.)And then it is time to go. I never want to leave. Coming back to the hustle and bustle of the states is so hard.

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