Pickles & Dimes

The Thing tried hitting on a hostess, but she rebuked him. He sulked for the rest of the afternoon.

I loved wave jumping in the ocean. The waves were huge; huge enough that two guys were surfing. This was the best part of the trip. Especially since you could touch the bottom of the sea floor for quite a distance from shore. I especially loved the “I can still feel the waves rolling even though I’m sitting at the dinner table hours later” feeling. I loved that better than the feeling I had after I mistimed a jump and a giant wave slapped me in the back of the head so hard I almost cried.

Trident Tropical Twist is the best gum ever. It retains its fruity taste, even after swallowing five gallons of saltwater. Not that I would know, because I’ve never not paid attention to the waves and been thrown backwards underwater 15 feet.

Jetskiing looks a lot smoother from land. After 10 minutes of riding behind Jason, I had to politely ask him: “Could you at least TRY not to hit every single wave?”

I had to buy new sunglasses, because mine were suited only to shield against domestic sunlight, not international. I lost them on the 4th day for 30 minutes, until a nice maid returned them to me.

Banana daiquiris for 5 days straight? Hell, yes.

Apparently, applying SPF 30 five times a day still means you burn. I burned the tops of my hands, of all places.

Two pelicans dive-bombed the water constantly. Pelicans rock.

We also saw a barracuda that had gotten washed up into the shallow water by the waves. We followed it around for 10 minutes, until it got really, really close to me and I panicked and fled for safety. (I mean, until I had a very important previous engagement on the beach.)

I got sand everywhere. In places you never, ever want to see sand.

Worst part of the vacation? The part where we went out to eat at Ruth’s Chris and I swallowed a teeny piece of steak that decided to take the scenic route down my throat and become lodged in my esophagus.

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“Hey barkeep, give me some whiskey - on the ROCKS! Get it, on the rocks? Because I’m made of rock? Sigh. You guys have no sense of humor…better make it a double.”

Catching some rays. I told The Thing to wear a hat, but he just flipped me off. Guess he thinks being made from rock makes him immune to skin cancer. Whatever.