charleston: we love you.

So we’re finally back from Charleston. I have missed you, my adoring public. In all seriousness, that is about all I have missed. Softball, yeah….friends, of course….but both the SM and I are in desperate withdrawal from the soft sand between our toes, salty sea smell in our noses and surfboards under our bare feet.

The week was fantastic. Barring a few breakdowns by some members of our party (all of us had at least one meltdown) we had a great time. It’s hard to coordinate and accommodate the plans for five adults and a toddler for a whole week. But we got some shopping in, a good day doing historically significant activities visiting Ft. Sumter and taking a carriage ride…and we all got our share of sun. We put the brother-in-law’s new margarita machine to good use and ate enough seafood for a small country. We did manage to cook a good bit at the house we rented too, which saved loads of money. We also managed to have some risque sweet luv-makin’ as well.

The Punk loved the water this time around too. Our last trip, she was scared and pretty much steered clear of the waves, but this time, she was all about it.

The SM and I took surf lessons and both managed to get up several times. The instructor told us before we even started that once you get up once, you want to do it again…you get up twice and it’s in your blood…you get up three times, and it changes your life. I took his surf-hippy wisdom with a grain of salt, but by the end of my first lesson, we went back to the house to eat lunch and the SM and I bother were online, shopping boards and gear.

I came back with a pretty respectable tan for an Irish girl, a new dress for the 5712 weddings I am going this summer, a pair of shoes and surfing pumping in my veins. I love Charlotte; it’s a great town for young folks like us and it’s growing exponentially. It’s an exciting place to live. But I miss the history of living in an already-established town (like Cleveland, Columbus, Charleston). I miss the beach. I miss the culture of an established city. I miss surfing and sand and the breeze. I miss the warming sun on my freckles when the sunroof is open and letting the ray bounce off my shoulders.

The SM and I are throwing around the idea of going down there even more often when the weather is cooperating…and maybe even someday calling Charleston home. For whatever reason, when we visit that city, we feel like we’re already at home. The crash of the waves against the beach is the soundtrack to our lives. The smell of sunscreen and brine is the sweet perfume. Charleston is like the forbidden woman of an exotic affair that we can only rendezvous with but a few times a year. She is intoxicating and we cannot wait to get back.

first full day in charleston.

I’d like to think that after having all this awesome time to chill and enjoy myself that I’d be more energized to write, but NAY…that is not the case.  I’m exhausted.  I’ve drank more in the last two days than I ave in a month.  I have been out in the sun and out of my element for about 2 days now so i am wore the eff out.  But I did take the time to upload a ton of new pics from our first day here in Charleston.  Mostly just on the beach, taking in some sun.  but that’s what it’s all about here….just taking in the beach air and not letting life get to us.

It’s been a trip and a half already.  With so many people to accomodate for meals and sleeping and events and shopping…it’s been trying at times.  But its just the break my brain needs.  And I still have a week! 

today’s observations.

Potty Break: As I returned from the bathroom I walked down the hallway and encountered a man with a newspaper in his hand.  He entered the men’s room.  That’s just something I didn’t want to imagine today.

Stairway to Heaven?: As I turned  the corner, an individual with long, frizzy blonde hair approached the building to enter through the lobby.  Was it Robert Plant?  I studied further.  Nope, it had a skirt.  No chance of a celebrity encounter today.

You win so you can live!: Due to my lack of depth perception, I am living in a Japanese game show; an obstacle course in which I must survive.  A world full of fast-approaching cars and moving stairs; questionable decisions in traffic and bruised palms.

Coke Zero: SO good.

He’s GREEEAT: Tiger Woods won the US Open with not only a bum knee…but a torn ACL, and 2 fractures in his fucking tibia.  I used to think that Tiger was a bitch for throwing his clubs and whining about a lot of things.  But now he’s my hero.

On another Tiger note - I know he’s only half black, but Tiger’s daughter Sam is REALLY white, isn’t she?  You’d at least think she’d be kind of…Italian looking or something.

Vegas, Baby, Vegas: The SM’s fam is getting into town tonight for Charleston next week.  He got to Daniel Island last night almost without a hitch; I guess he missed one street sign, but I talked him through it.  He found out this morning his next training is in Vegas in September. I texted back that I am going to make it rain in the Palomino, and on his lunch break, we could go to the Little White Wedding Chapel and get hitched.  It’s just for T-Mosexuals, but the SM said we should definitely look into a ticket for me since I have never been.  Sounds good to me.  I am definitely up for seeing the Beatles’ Cirque show and just seeing what it’s like in person.

Lonesome Road: I kinda miss the SM.  He’s gone one day and it’s kind of sad.  We don’t spend a lot of time apart and while it’s nice to have the house to myself for spurts of time, the noises in the dark get louder and I have to walk the dog.  I don’t have a warm, furry leg up against mine in bed at night.  I don’t have anyone urging me to get out of bed in the morning…saying, “Baby…it’s time to get up!” at 6:40 when I should have been up at 6:15.

Thursday: Today is the longest day ever.  I don’t know what it is.  Maybe it’s because my period is over and I need to get laid and no one is around to do it.

two days.

just a few more days until I take the beach with a bottle of Malibu and a bottle of SPF 45.  We got water and TP and paper plates from BJs..the suitcase is out with freshly laundered shorts and tubes…my toes are itching for flip flops.

Now if I can just finish my work before then, I’ll be golden.

Here I come!  Enjoy the Google Maps of the house we’re renting. Be jealous.

the flab is less flabby.

In other news, I have managed to scoot my fat ass under 140. I’ll have to get a picture up sometime here soon so you can keep up with my progress as promised. We have precisely 10 days until we launch the McPashmobile southward and I think I am doing pretty well and looking way more acceptable for my standards. Once flabbier parts are slightly less flabby. My arms are slightly more toned. I’m not quite as disgusted with my eating habits. Today I had a PB and J, a few pretzels and a salad from our café here at work. And about 4 bottles of water so far. This Hydroxycut shit works. It pumps you up, gives you energy, burns calories and makes you as thirsty as a muthafucka.

So today – ten days before take-off, I am feeling pretty good. I knew I wasn’t going to drop 20 pounds before we left, so toning up and staying the course as best I can (with a treat day here and there) has been relatively successful. I’m in pretty good spirits and ready to hit the road.

my weekend.

So yesterday, it seems, was the beginning of a potentially dangerous pre-menstruation cycle. I spent most of the day by myself, with the compassion and care from the SM, lying in bed, reading a book, refilling my iPod and sleeping, perchance to dream. I didn’t come out until about 3:30 when I went down to the pool to get some sun on my pale, sad skin. For whatever reason, I just couldn’t face the noise of the TV, the garish sun in my face or the conversation that might have ensued if I had been in the family room versus the bedroom. It was too much. Today, I am considerably better however. The sunshine was a welcome energy this morning and I actually managed to muster out a “good morning” to my coworkers as I walked to my cubicle. Today shouldn’t be so bad.

The weekend on the whole wasn’t all that miserable. Friday night, the SM and I went to dinner at a local Japanese steakhouse and, don’t get too excited – joined BJ’s Wholesale Club. WHAT WHAT! We figured it’d do us good for bulk meat, bulk contact solution – the stuff we always use. Plus it’ll be great for when we head down to Charleston and have to feed five healthy grownups and one picky peanut-head. We can get 5 pounds of hamburger meat instead of buying a whole bunch of small packages, etc. Bulk meat…mmm. Saturday, we got the new jerseys for the softball team all printed out (they look fly, peeps! You’ll like the new logo!) and spent a little too much at Concord Mills. But Charlotte Russe had huge sales on sweats and chillin’ clothes (perfect for around the house, working out) all for half off! I got some really nice, soft yoga pants, and a few tanks for Charleston as well. You can’t beat $5 a tank for putzing around the outside markets and outlet malls. I did get a little sweatshirt that I didn’t try on that was too tight on my mammoth guns…so I’ll have to go get a bigger size in that. Otherwise, great shopping experience. The SM got a few tees at the Guess outlet too, and another pair of linen pants. You joke, but his ass looks like the 8^th world wonder in those things. The fabric is magical.

Sunday as I mentioned, I was surprised to not get bed sores. I was a real loner. I bet if I look at my iPod today, it’ll be all sad, suicidal emo shit. I am not sure how many times I can listen to “Creep” by Radiohead without crying.

Last night, after my very J.D. Salinger-esque hermitage all day, I did manage to dye my hair again. Dark. With the vacation to Charleston coming up, I just can’t bring myself to drop $200 on a complete dye job to take it from dark brown to Jessica Simpson blonde again, when I know I will want inordinate amounts of shoes and seafood coated with Old Bay. There isn’t anyone who doesn’t like my hair dark, including myself, so I won’t be changing it for now. I might get a few highlights done at HairColorXperts or something, but that’s it. Besides, I think being a brunette allows you a little more respect than being a blonde. I feel smarter and cleverer. Not quite as fun but twice as naughty. It’s not the worst way to be. Unfortunately, when I dyed my hair, I got some of the dye on my forehead. I put conditioner all over myself to ensure this would not happen (as the dye can’t get to your skin that way) but fuck if that worked. It looks like Venom, from Spiderman 3, is slowly taking me over. Exciting for comic book nerds…pathetic and embarrassing for the rest of us.

After butchering my face with what appeared to be some evil force imagined by Stan Lee, I had the pleasure of watching Tony Hawk perform catastrophically on Million Dollar Password last night. I am a HUGE game show maniac and buff and there haven’t been many game shows better than Allen Ludden and even Bert Convy’s Password and Password Plus (in my book, at least). Tony Hawk ruined it for me. It was to the point that the contestant could have said the actual password and Hawk wouldn’t have caught on. I wasn’t sure before, but now I am pretty confident Tony Hawk is retarded. I had to go watch old reruns of the Match Game with Charles Nelson Reilly and a few episodes of Card Sharks to calm down.

From Jay Leno Friday: “The talk is that Hillary Clinton is going to try and help unite the party. She’s going to unite the party. But today, Bill Clinton says according to his experience, the party is usually over whenever Hillary shows up.” WORD. There is only so high you can hike up your power suits’ skirt. Hill is officially out and giving her full support to Obama. I’m interested to see how things shape up as November comes around.

Well, today starts a new week, doesn’t it? Back and the new grind. At this point, as I have mentioned, it’s been a lot to learn. Trying to learn how to do someone’s job, WHILE DOING someone’s job isn’t the best case scenario. But it could be worse. I could be at the vacuum place still, biting my nails, waiting for the other shoe to drop…or worse even, unemployed, giving hand jobs for quarters in the bus station. Or taking pictures of my Venom face for the internet and starting a paysite for comicophiles.

That might be a nice side venture though…