I knew in my mind that I was about to go cray cray on whatever poor Expedia soul happened to get my phone call that morning. I did a few exercises in preparation for my battle.
Once my stretches were complete, I was ready to fight some bytches. That phone call would end with our room being upgraded and our seats being upgraded to First Class. Period. Take no prisoners.
Fast forward twenty minutes and I was blushing and talking in a high pitched voice, "oh, thank you so so much. You are amazing."
What had happened was......when we made the reservations, we not only signed in as a 'guest', but we also put in the wrong email address. #issueswithbeingstupid.
The trip is on!
Deep sigh of relief. We NEED this trip. Like Lindsay Lohan needs rehab
I want five days free from laundry, dishes, cooking dinner, changing diapers and calling Poison control because Fluffette decided to gnaw on a cascade packet. I don't want to clean up after ANYONE, myself included. I flat out don't want any responsibility other than ordering another drink from the bar or going to make another plate of food from the buffet that will most likely give me explosive 'rhea later.
I don't wanna hear "ma ma" or "da da". Well....maybe Daddy. "Has Daddy been bad? Does Daddy need a spanking? *slaps whip in hand"
I don't want to clean up vomit or drool. Well...unless, of course, it's my own drool and vomit from drinking and eating too much.
I want to lay by our private pool in our Casita with a drink in one hand, a carton of cigarettes in the other. I want to lay in the Mexico sun until the top layer of my skin burns and sheds like a snake.
I want to get white girl wasted and say severely inappropriate things to the innocent patrons of our hotel. Like, "If I looked that good in a bikini, I would just stay in my room and play with myself. *nudges Mr. Fluff* You know, flick the ol' bean"
I want to annoy the shyt out of Mr. Fluff by asking him to take my picture every 4.3 seconds in hopes of having decent pictures to share with you guys in a couple of weeks.
Bottom line: I want to live irresponsibly for five days. Not irresponsible enough to be featured on an episode of Locked up Abroad. Nope, just enough to feel like I'm young and dumb again. For five days, I want the Fluffs to party like it's 2011. Before Fluffette.
Then I want to come home with my third degree burns and hug Fluffette until she turns 18.
In preparation for my trip, I wanted to get as bikini ready as possible. We can all agree that I have ZERO business in a swimsuit...much less a bikini. However, I've been doing this bikini challenge and after only 13 days I can already see a difference. DO IT!
Here are a few pictures from the past week.
|Drinkin and Paintin.|
|Thank you, Courtney for my wonderful Birthday present. I had sooo much fun!|
|My First Mother's Day....in my goal jeans.|
|Gettin flipped off by my new nephew. I guess he's already heard about my crazy arse!|
Everyone have a wonderful week! I won't be posting next week because I'll be way too shyt faced to type out actual words.