Conspicously Absent
Not ignoring all y’all, but was on walkabout for the first decant of the month and have been busy trying to pull my head back out of my ass ever since. A rundown for any peeps who are really bored and need something to point and laugh at:
Took my first vacation in 12 years. Felt like in EVAR. Didn’t know what to do with myself, didn’t know how to be, never went away before all on my lonesome and hooboy did I have a groovalicious time! Naturally, being mine, it was an action-packed and work-filled vacation - lots of drinking in assorted Irish bars, sweating through the sultry Southern days and nights, driving way the hell too fast in the mondo-bitchin’ red convertible Thunderbird I rented just ‘cuz I could (note: not that I should have, mind you - it was freakin’ expensive, but I deployed maximum cleavage by propping my tits up on the rental-agency counter, batted my eyelashes at the counter dudes, and whispered sweet nothings to them in their native tongues, which got me a 40% discount on the rental rate… it’s good to speak enough Farsi and Arabic to get myself into serious trouble), and paying attention (with both eyes open, even) in a hell’a good writers’ retreat on Hilton Head.
Started my perambulations in Washington DC, hanging with my cousin and his gorgeous wife, who sure know how to show a girl a good time! We drank too much at the first Irish-ish bars (note the plural) the Saturday night I arrived (sadly disappointing a random Colonel at the Pentagon who was way hot but way pushy by not giving him the pleasure of my body that same night), then did the commando tour of Annapolis and the Mall all day Sunday (apparently it usually takes them two full days to drag tourist folk around all the spots we visited, but it only took 6 hours with me driving… hee!). They went off to their respective job deelios on Monday while I cruised down the I-95 to Charleston. Was met up by a gentleman friend who gave me the two-dollar tour and mysteriously ended up in another Irish bar that night. Can’t blog about what happened next - suffice it to say that there were more than a few Irish Car Bombs polished off by yours truly.
Sweated my way to Hilton Head the next day where I hung out for the duration of the retreat, with the exception of a side jaunt mid-week to Savannah where I had dinner at The Pirates’ House… ooh, haunted… spooky! Returned to Savannah following the retreat and spent the night in an inn that had been a Civil War hospital and also supposedly haunted. Didn’t see any haints, but had much good seafood and flew back to Cali needing a vacation from my vacation.
Since I’ve returned, I’ve not only failed to unpack, I’ve bought a motorcycle and dropped same in my garage when taking it off the center stand (token first drop - outta the way with minimal damage), have gotten the tummy flu that’s going around, and have been too damned lazy to do laundry. Boy oh boy, have I been busy… nap time for Bonzo now. Set blender to Off. Engage.
