San Diego Song

 Day 4.

OMG….

WHY AM I AWAKE?

WHY DOES EVERYTHING HURT?

 

I am alive, apparently, because my back feels like a bag of QuickCrete that got left out in your Uncle Jim’s back yard for 3 years.  

My head feels like there are a bunch of toddlers in there, letting loose in a bounce house.  

My nasal cavity feels like the Holland Tunnel at rush hour – a sure sign I was snoring all night.  

I would feel sorry for C except I can see that she is still totally  unconscious, and I bet she was snoring just as loud as I was. 

I am sure John Lennon meant the whole “girl with kaleidoscope eyes” thing as a compliment, but as I haul my butt nekkid (gross, sorry!) meat suit into a siting position I have to squint through the rainbow fractals clouding my vision to see that it is, apparently, morning.

 

We only like this view after taking mushrooms.  If you see this after a near-miss at alcohol poisoning...NO.

UGH.

UUUUUGGGGHH.

Eventually C comes to life and we shuffle around the room and get ready to human again.

D comes to get us and haul our pained, dehydrated, barely animated selves to the Zeez.

It is too bright there.  Too many people – 4, actually – are awake, talking, breathing, and apparently living their best lives.

I just want a blood transfusion and a back massage, but I will settle for the bomb-ass breakfast bagels that a WAY too-chipper N fixes for all of us.

I miss Bruegger's so much!!

What are we doing today?  WHY ARE WE EVEN DOING ANYTHING??

Oh, WAIT! 

Today is Beach Day, so YAY!!

I could definitely use some Vitamin Sea.  Actually, at this point, I could use any and all vitamins, but being in the ocean is definitely the one thing that could make Zombie Mary human again.

We pack snacks, sunscreen (well, C doesn’t), towels, etc. and head out.

I lay my head against the window, sunglasses on, mask discreetly placed so that, should I zone out and start drooling, there will be no evidence to incriminate me.

We go on base, and then go to a store.  UGH.  I don’t want to be in a store, I want to be in an ocean.  It’s too bright out, people (by people, I mean C and D and N and J) are talking too much, and I don’t want to walk or talk or even pretend that I am a middle aged adult human and not the alcohol recycling plant I have morphed into.

Sigh.

We buy a shit-ton of alcohol and snacks.  WHY?  Why all the alcohol?  Apparently being on vacation means that my liver, which was previously used for detoxifying (although this doesn't apply to male humans) shit I put in my body, is now forced to step up and man the ship this week. 

Poor Larry.  (Larry is my liver, BTW.  I picture him as a hard-working little guy, wearing a clip-on tie, one of those weird green eye-shade-thingies from the 50's, with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, frantically manning a wall of incomprehensible dials and switches as he, manfully, struggles to keep me corporeal).

Anyway, we finally get to the beach, where we set up J’s super duper cool shade thingie – not a pop-up, those are trash! – as soon as I get the all-clear that I have done my part in setting up shade and chairs, I sprint for the water.

I fucking love the ocean, you guys.

LOVE IT.

As soon as I hit the water, I am restored to being a functioning human. 

OMMGGGG...I need to be here always.

I have spent the last 20 years in the PNW and will get into that grey, frigid, biting water that is our stretch of the Pacific Ocean at the drop of a hat.  You literally cannot keep me out of the water.

THIS ocean, though…

OMG, I am moving to San Diego as soon as I get home.

I think I spent 30 minutes just hopping and playing in the waves with A.  It was fucking glorious.

Beach Buddies

N and J came down to play with A, and I went back to kick it with C and D in the shade.

The rest of the day was just heavenly.

D and N made a giant Happy Mother’s Day sign for us ladies (HA!) in the sand, we chatted and plotted what our next few days were going to be like.

Awwww...so cute!

Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

We left the beach, went to the store again (what? Why?)  Because we did not get enough alcohol, apparently.  D and J decided to stock up on enough Truly to last us until the next millennium because they could.  

BTW, Truly is this toxic waste that is attempting to hop on  the seltzer bandwagon.  Even though it is vile demon juice.  D and J cleared the store of their inventory.  Which meant I was going to have to drink it...because VACATION!!

Truly gross.  Truly intoxicating.  Truly drank about 50 gallons worth in May.

Larry hid behind my uterus, begging to not be noticed by the alcohol.

C brazenly ignored the store’s commands and collapsed on an outdoor couch to relax.

Rebel with a major cause.

We got back to the Zees and relaxed, made dinner, made poppers, drank some alcohol (sigh), and went to bed.

I was going to try to cram Monday's shenanigan's in here, but our TikTok food adventure demands its very own day, so...

Anyway, this chipped seashell summed up our day quite well.

<3