If You Need a Place to Store Your Nuts, I’m Your Girl. (Wait…)

Greetings! I am on drugs. Because I got my wisdom teeth out today. It was fun at first, like when I first woke up and was so heavily drugged I was a ragdoll and things were funny, but now I’m sitting here watching everything we’ve TiVo’d in the last two months while my friends are at my friend Theo’s birthday party, and only one of my cheeks for some reason has swollen up to the size of a beachball, so I’m a half human, half chipmunk. And while I’m complaining, I would like to point out that two days ago I was snorkeling in Mexico.

I was there for my American friend Virginia (not to be confused with my British friend Virginia who also got married this year)’s wedding, and it was wonderful and amazing, and such a relaxing and much-needed vacation. I flew down and back with Rebecca and Mike, and we extended the feeling of being on vacation as much as we possibly could, starting with almost missing our flight. We somehow forgot that we were in Mexico, and a snorkeling tour that says it’s going to return at 1:00 will actually return when it’s good and ready; in this case, 2:30. And then we had to get back to the hotel, pack, and get to the airport for a 3:50 flight. As the clock ticked, Mike asked the boat captain when we might be heading back, and his answer was, “Chill out, man, Relax! Tranquilo! You’re on vacation!” We ended up making it — albeit still covered in salt water and sand and possible sea creatures down our pants, and with everything crammed willy nilly into our suitcases — and even had time for one last tequila shot in the airport bar before leaving Mexico for good (well, for now).

I’ll probably upload all my photos tomorrow while I’m lying around half-chipmunking it up, so I hope you enjoy them.

Speaking of snorkeling, in the water I saw one of the guide dudes come towards Rebecca with a scary-looking crustacean with way too many tentacles all a-kimbo. I saw her wave her hand like, “No, no, I don’t want to touch it,” but he grabbed her hand and shoved the thing at her. I swam away as fast as my flippers could carry me, and when he looked at me all, “ehhh?” I yelled, “PLEASE DO NOT COME NEAR ME WITH THAT THING.” I have very mixed feelings about oceans.

P.S. I wrote this yesterday but fell asleep before publishing it, and now I’m too lazy to go back and change all the “yesterday”s to “thursday”s, etc. Morning update: My left cheek is now even bigger than before, and my right cheek is still perfectly normal. Now instead of a half chipmunk, I look like half Dizzy Gillespie, mid-song. (I’ve also turned into a black male jazz musician on that side, too. Weird).

One Response to If You Need a Place to Store Your Nuts, I’m Your Girl. (Wait…)

  1. Zak says:

    If you\’re not still drugged up in a month or so, I might be headed through LA. Got time to catch up? (woulda emailed you, but can\’t find it as easily as BaddMinton.com) I always loved jazz music, so maybe you could play a song or two? Email back if you\’ve got some time.

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