Blame it on the rain, yeah, yeah

The directions to the beach where we spent last week, if accurate, should read something like this:

Drive as far north as you can in one day until it is good and dark outside. Take a right. Then drive until all the regular normal land is gone and all you have left is alligator and bear-infested wetlands. With deer grazing on the side of the road. You will not reach the first bridge until you feel like you’ve been in the middle of nowhere for approximately all your life. Then you’ll cross about 54 bridges. Then you’ll take a left and drive as far north as you can, until that land runs out. Miraculously, there you will find a Wal-Mart. Turn left into Wal-Mart parking lot and drive past dumpsters behind the store. Realize that by the grace of God you have found your destination. Convince night guard that you are in fact checking in here, now, even though somehow your name is not on his list. Try not to use profanity. Find your condo and kiss the pavement once you’ve regained feeling in your legs and are able to get out of the car.

Seriously, we were in the middle of nowhere at 11PM, having just seen a sign that said “Watch for Bears” and I thought “Well, here it is. The place where I die. At least we have friends coming along behind us that can identify our bodies.” To top it off, I had a Milli Vanilli song in my head. And then I realized that God is too just and kind to let me die with a Milli Vanilli song in my head. And a strange calm came over me and I was at peace.

All of this makes it sound like the trip to the beach was doomed, but can I just tell you that that vacation now ranks up there as for real one of the best weeks of my life. Fresh seafood for almost every dinner, sand and sun, good weather, good friends, and board games. But it was even better than all that. Bug’s BFF was there, meaning that they both had permanent playmates the whole time, and apart from needing occasional refereeing, they just did their thing while the adults hung out (with the babies, who cannot yet talk and therefore don’t interrupt every five seconds with “HEY BONKY!”). We got to spend some good quality time with friends whom we haven’t seen in a long time, and I laughed so hard on a couple of occasions that I may have compromised my unborn child’s health. (Note to self – check with midwife about laughter-induced pregnancy complications.) Showering was optional, I was unplugged from technology for a whole week, (except the TV, because we are not crazy) and the only food preparation I did (besides the occasional PBJ or ham sandwich) was making a salad for dinner one night. We had a dinner-making rotation, and I have a feeling that it turned out that we never actually made the main dish because all of my friends read this blog. Well, joke’s on them, because that was my plan all along. SUCKAS.

I could have blogged, I suppose. There was wireless internet available at the check-in center where we were, but when it took all the willpower I possessed to hoist myself off the couch to shower even though I was covered in sand and sunscreen that may or may not have been a day old, I figured a break was in order. So let’s just take a second to recognize that I have blogged every day for 243 days. That’s longer than a school year. That’s longer than most Hollywood marriages. That’s longer than I was in medical school. That’s almost as long as an average pregnancy.

But I took a break for this:

beach bound

And for this:

king of the hill

But most importantly, I took a break so that I could spend as much time as possible with some pretty great people. And it didn’t take long to realize, sitting there on the second day with my pajamas on at 1 in the afternoon, hair unwashed and slobber on my arm from a baby that was not my own, that these people are not just my friends. They’re my family.

And they’re totally worth it.

1 comment

1 RedRev { 05.28.08 at 11:30 am }

I have never cried during American Gladiators before . . . no more reading yestertime during testostetime.

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