Am I in trouble?

I just blew off a lunch date with friends with no notice to go to some silly work meeting. Oops. I actually had no concept of the fact that we were all working right through lunch until it was over and I glanced up at the clock. It said "12:45 you friendless bitch". Seriously, that's what the clock said. I would've been offended if I hadn't been so impressed. Anyway, sorry guys. Next time.

I've been holding off on my vacation review until I got my pictures uploaded, but considering their sheer numbers and the fact that I will probably have to go through them as anally as possible, weeding through them, discarding the ones where someone walked by the lens or the many nighttime shots I attempted without a tripod -- and then there's the editing process, deblurring and sharpening and color correcting -- little Woodlaysons will probably come along first.

The Rundown:

Royal Caribbean - Better than Carnival insofar as you don't feel like a refugee family of Irish Catholics when reclining in the top bunk of your "cabin". It also got points for not trying to pack 4000 people in a 6000 sq. ft. boat. One of my most vivid memories from cruising Carnival was a 10 foot square pool, dotted with algae, with about 20 kids crammed into it, all trying their damnedest to look like they were having fun and avoid inadvertantly losing their virginity. The RC pools were spacious, clean, and didn't smell like the ocean. The only suggestion I have for anyone thinking of vacationing on the RC is this: Drop the notion altogether that cruises are "all-inclusive". Just don't think about it in those terms. You won't feel quite so cheated everytime you find out that you have to pay $3.00 for a Coke, and that you owe five different waiters a tip and you've only ever met two of them, and that you'll get charged $1.00 for every fingerprint they find on the minibar. If you're on a budget, just don't cruise. Just don't.

Cococay - First stop. Kinda sucked. But if you get off the beaten path, there's some pretty inter-island trails. I found a cave there, and if I ever go back, I'm bringing my spelunking gear. Pay for an excursion? Thank you, I'll make my own fun.

St. John - Beautiful island, weird vibe. It's one of those places where, on one side of the street, there will be this ostentatious mansion, and on the other side, there's a driftwood shack with half a roof. There is a literal hierarchy here, considering the whole place is basically a mountain sitting in the middle of the ocean. The rich people look down on the poor people. Every cliche you can think of, you can go to St. John's and take a picture of it. Upper class, middle class, lower class. Upper island, middle island, lower island. It's just creepy.

St. Maarten - We are not in Kansas anymore, and I freakin' love it. This place was just awesome. I don't know how this place got so cool, but I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that it is the smallest freestanding parcel of land to be divided between two coutries. It's half French and half Dutch. The personality of the place is a pretty uniform blend of the two cultures, although they still bicker about whose system of local government is better. They're all islanders at heart. I may never again run into so many friendly people with French accents. I'm going to write France a letter and tell them how much more becoming it is. St. Maarten goes on my list of places I must return to before I die. I could see myself going native there.

Tonight on ER

Two relatives of mine went to the emergency room yesterday, in two completely separate, dangerously serious, incidents.

My cousin-in-law had a head-on collision with a kid who was apparently still new to traffic laws. He broke three ribs and tore up his knee, but the doctors say he'll be okay. The kid came out without a scratch, but I think he would've preferred it the other way around.

For a few days, my uncle has had some sort of bite on his forehead that was starting to look like it came from something with venom. He wasn't going to go to the doctor, but I guess he woke up yesterday and decided it was bad enough to get checked out. The doc prescribed him an antibiotic. Within minutes of taking it, he started experiencing hearing loss and difficulty breathing. I don't know how bad it was, but it was bad enough to haul him to the ER in an ambulance. Doesn't that just figure. He's okay too, but I doubt he'll seek medical attention next time.

Our family was being watched over yesterday.

On a lighter note, the rest of the day was nice and peaceful. Chris and I got to sit down for about the first time since we got back. We watched Part 2 of the Battlestar Galactica episode that left us hanging before we left (the cruise got off to a pretty bad start when I found we didn't get Sci-Fi in our cabin). I took a long, hot shower, to my great relief, and yours also, I'm sure. Despite the craziness, it's good to be home.

I'm not dead. Yet.

For those of you who didn't know, I've been out of town. Way, way out of town. Tell you all about it when I have more than 15 seconds.

For those of you who did know, I'm getting the evil eye because you know I've been back since Sunday night and haven't blogged. All I have to say is this: I also haven't showered.

Seriously.

I'm not kidding.

A combination of jetlag, work, impromptu obligations, and lots and lots of laundry have kept me far from having time for anything but sleep. So count your blessings and kiss my ass. Don't worry, that's the coffee talking.

Vacations are great, aren't they? But Liz learned a lesson: If you come back on Sunday, you're not going to be worth a shit on Monday anyway, so save yourself the trouble of spending all day trying to remember what you were just doing, what you were just saying, and where you laid your damn pen, and take the day off.

Smooth sailing?

I had the lamest New Year ever. Well, ever for me. I'm sure someone out there has had a lamer New Year than me, but I don't know this person, and if I did, I probably wouldn't talk to him because he'd be so lame. Anyways, I was all psyched up to go to this party at a friend's house (a friend's new house that I've never seen because I'm a bad friend). Actually I had four different options for New Years: friend's house, brother's kick-ass party (complete with Moon Walk), church party, and visiting Chris at work around midnight. About 3 p.m., I came down with one of those kick-in-the-ass dizzying vomitous headaches I get sometimes and I don't think I lasted past 9. I sat at home and tried to find something to stare at that didn't hurt and took enough Tylenol PM to knock out a baby elephant, or a good-sized cow (provided they had my constitution, which is nil...on the bright side, I don't foresee ever needing a prescription sedative).

So that's how my year began. Comatose.

This will be the year that I either learn to be less of a flake or die of frustration over my aptitude for losing things and forgetting things in direct proportion to their value, importance, or urgency.

This will be the year Chris and I decide our financial future, in terms of whether we set ourselves up for eventual solvency or eventual bankruptcy.

This will be the year I either apply myself to truly learning the art of the iron, or Chris finally gives up and starts sending everything to a dry cleaner. This should have some direct effect on our aforementioned financial future.

This will be the year I decide whether to be a company man or a free agent.

This will be the year I either decide to live a healthier, more active life, or decide to quit caring and rot away slowly like the other 70 percent of America's population.

This will be the year I decide to live by the Spirit or the Flesh.

This will be the year we start making decisions about our lives, or the year we decide to put them off for another year.

I wish I could speak with any certainty or authority on these topics, but most of the time, these things get decided for you along the path of least resistance. I shudder to think where that will take me.