Don’t drop the cheese

I recently went on a girls’ weekend in Galveston, Texas.  Here are lessons learned from the weekend adventure.

* Don’t drink too much your first night because you will feel really crappy the next morning when everyone else heads out to breakfast and you’re left to fend for yourself and you have to walk to the kitchen to get your own water (for rehydration purposes), and no one is around to hand you magazines/books, and that is so sad because you just don’t have the energy to lift them on your own.

[note: we had to be out of the condo by noon and had a whole day/night to burn, and we were seeing a musical later that night at The Grand]

* If you act like you are a registered guest at a fancy hotel, you can hang out by the pool, partake in freebie meats and cheeses, and water, tea, and lemonade.  Ya just gotta act inconspicuous.  I don’t think I pulled off the right look, but I’m guessing the hotel staff didn’t really care.

* Don’t overeat at lunch, especially when you are living out of your vehicle for the day, because we couldn’t hang out at the fancy pants hotel forever, and thus you have no place to umm… unbloat (?) comfortably.  Public restroom facilities and street porta-potties leave a lot to be desired.  <forgive me, I have two boys so there’s always lots of bathroom talk and humor around our house so this is nothing for me (and no need to include as an addition to my embarrassing moments list)>

* BEFORE changing into evening attire at the back of your vehicle and reapplying your deodorant, it’s a good idea to check that no vehicles around you are harboring people, particularly of the male kind.  I figure it’s nothing more than if I were in a bikini, but still, I’m betting I turned 50 shades (!) of red when the guy’s truck window rolled down and I realized I had been busted.

* Be careful not to drop purse stowed cheese at a nice performance event.  Staff at The Grand doesn’t take too kindly to guests who attempt to sneak in food and drink.  Hey, I figure they should be happy we dropped, as opposed to cut, the cheese.  I mentioned the lunch bloat, right?

* The FM in “FM boots” stands for Father Mulcahy.  You know, the priest from MASH?  Good to know.  I’m guessing it’s Father Mulcahy for those FM spiky stripper heels too.

* A husband should never have to ask if he should wait up (yes, even if it’s after 1 o’clock in the morning) for you to get back home from your trip.  Hello?  Of course the answer is “yes.”  And even if the wife says “No, you don’t have to wait up,” yes, you (husband) are still required to stay up and wait.  Go back and read all about the double standard to clear up any confusion.  It’s like when we were dating and Gerald believed me when I said I didn’t really like receiving flowers!  ??

All and all, it was a great weekend.  I really needed the break from my perfect angel children, and so the invitation couldn’t have come at a better time.  Thanks for the invite, TC!


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