From The Heart - Robe Sleeves, Privlidge, And A Week In Mexico.

I need to show you something. I wanted to sit on the balcony on a particularly brisk morning during my vacation last week, and decided to take advantage of the robe hanging in the closet. As I started to untie the belt and remove it from the hanger, I noticed that the right arm was tucked in such a way as to give it the appearance of saluting, with the hand over the heart.  I wrote the following from said balcony as a reflection of the experiences I've had in Mexico and at the Vidanta resort:

The Necessity of "Goodbye, Paradise."

The last of my pesos are sitting on the vanity, next to my winter coat which was begrudgingly pulled from the closet. I have utilized katana space, bargained with deities, and conjured my inner Tetris playing 90s kid to close and lock my suitcase. I'm dressed in layers so I can slowly remind myself what it's like to be cold.

The Boldest Print

Something I learned from walking around in a bathing suit, half skirt, and sheer, knee length cover up during the day - I'm not the smallest on the resort. I'm not the most ideally proportioned, or conventionally beautiful. I'm thick, jiggly in the middle, and small breasted, to tell the unvarnished truth.

Comedic Timing. Or, How I Learned To Love The Pain And Support The Toaster

I need to monetize my dad's sense of comedic timing.  Not the one that he *thinks* he has.  You know, the one that has me apologizing to waiters the world over.  I'm talking the one he doesn't realize he’s got, but would make him the perfect character in a slapstick comedy.

I’ve been on vacation with my folks for 4 or so days now.

Yesterday, I listened to my folks, both in their mid 70s, argue for half an hour over how to use the microwave.  My dad wanted to warm his muffin just enough to melt a pat of butter from the stick left in the fridge overnight.  If he’d have left the butter on the countertop for the same amount of time. . .   But, I digress.