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Sunday, April 5, 2009

You know an ass when you see one.

We are on our first vacation in four years without the baby.( Someone is housesitting, so don't try to break in my house. A big man and his pit bull) We've come to Long Beach for a conferees Jeff is attending for work, so i guess technically I am the only one really on vacation.I started packing as soon as I forced Jeff to book my ticket.
I packed early because whenever I have gone on a trip I make glaring mistakes. One time I took only pants and no shirts.I can't explain this, because I go through my bag compulsively like 20 times. It's only upon arriving and taking my clothes out that I realise-I only brought one pair of yellow socks. Why?
This time, I didn't bring a sweater or jacket of any kind. Even though I knew it would be 50 degrees and windy at night. I KNEW that but somehow in the scalding heat of a mild Texas spring my mind just couldn't conceive of needing anything except tank tops and summer dresses. I also only brought stiletto boots and a pair of bright turquoise flats that are a 1/2 size too big for me and must be worn with the yellow socks. I have no excuse for this behavior.
" What is wrong with you?" Jeff asks. I don't know.
I always feel stupid on vacation and this time was no different. After an entire day of musing on the high numbers of high school girls roaming our hotel I found out that they are here for a cheerleading competition. They are, however, a cheerless group. No matter what time of the day or night they clad in blue and white skintight spandex costumes that would make strippers blush. They stare hostilely at me in the elevator, squeezing 20 of their fellows into the elevator, flipping their too tight, lacquered Tonya Harding style ponytails around and yelling " Party on the sixth floor!"
"They are only children," I remind myself.
A few hours ago I was in the elevator with them and one of them said flatly, " We're all going to die." I like her, I thought, already pondering the existential questions. Or maybe she was teased by the other girls and is planning a bombing in the lobby.
This morning I went out, in the stilettos, to walk around and try to find a sweater. Downtown Long Beach is deserted, the only people I saw were skateboarders and a surprising number of women with little sweatered dogs.
" Even the dogs thought to bring sweaters," I thought. What is wrong with me?
Then out of nowhere, in front of Nordstrom Rack, I spied a bare ass. It's funny how you know a bare ass when you see one, even if it's far away. This was the ass of a haggard looking woman. She was also rocking the Tonya Harding, although not as well as my friends the cheerleaders. She was showing her ass to a seated homeless man who had all the charm of Charlie Manson without the good looks. His beard was actually tucked into his pants and he appeared to be digging something out of her butt cheek.
" You got it honey? It's deep in there!"
I desperately wanted to know what it was in her butt but I also wanted to respect their private time. Glass, maybe? A thorn? How kind of that man to dig foreign objects out of a whore's ass for her. She smiled at me as I passed, much friendlier than the cheerleaders and their mothers.
I did get two sweaters and some Nikes, and another pair of socks.I'm now going to have my second Bloody Mary of the day, because I'm on vacation dammit!

5 comments:

  1. I am so glad I found your blog..I love your humor, so evil but yet so dang hilarious! You should be a writer along with being a "designer".
    Ok you will probably make fun of me for this, but I take photos of outfits I want to wear on vacation then when packing I just look at the photos and pack, undies and socks and bras are always in the suitcase first!

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  2. Hey, you can forget things... you are on holiday!

    About the bare ass, I'd probably have asked! My husband, definitely!

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  3. Jackie-I wish I had taken photos of every outfit. I'm desperate to become a better packer and I will try anything. Next time I'll do that, it's a great idea,
    S

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  4. I pack like I was born to it because I'm very controlling. This makes me quite boring to actually be on holiday with, but it does mean I'm always appropriately kitted out while I'm sitting in various scenic places with gritted teeth being told to 'just bloody relax'. Love your blog, v funny

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