Vacation. Vacation. How I love thee so much!

My 6 days off were awesome.

Our flight was at 6:30am on Wednesday so Tuesday night I (grudgingly) had to pack.

Hate.

Hate. Packing.

I tried to make the best of it so I put Michael on blast and dance partied it up! My mom and I were dancing it up and boogie-ing down! We had a blast! The packing, however…the packing did not get completely done. I was scrambling in the morning throwing ev-er-ey-thang in my suitcase that I could think of. (I did okay.)

Ontario Airport – dead.

An hour and a half layover at Houston Airport – dead.

Waiting in the Fort Meyers (FL) airport Chili’s for an hour – dead.

Biggest travel day of the year?

I’m thinking: no.

The media was mistaken.

Yesterday it was pretty busy though.

We had a Southern Thanksgiving at my mom’s boyfriends friends [vacation] home a few streets over.

Southern.

Southern accents. Souther food, complete with Greens, Fried Turkey (that’s right. That whole mutha effer was fried) and some homemade PeeCAN Pii. They were really nice “folks”. It was totally different from the usual T-day but it was way cool. And everything I tried (anything sans meat--I heard the Fried Turkey was mighty tastey though and I didn't try the pie--too full) was really good. (Fattening though. My ass did not appreciate this.)

We fished like everyday. I caught a Referee fish (read: Sheepshead but wtf, man! It was striped (last I checked sheep were fluffy not stripey, those fish namers are way animal planet challenged...and apparently there’s already a zebra fish so I called it a Referee fish) and a blowfish and a Blue Crab. Almost. The crab let go as soon as we (read: not me) was about to grab it. I saw it though, it was so freaking awesome and cool looking. I was stoked.

Fishing is fun. (And it goes hand in hand with drinking. Need I say more!) We fished in the harbor and it was totally Animal Planet live! We saw all kinds of fish (that we caught-they’re kinda shy), bunches of sting rays, different types of birds galore! It was beautiful and the weather was great. The last day it did rain and storm but it was cool since we don't get that much here in SoCal. And we saw a double rainbow. You can't beat that.

Vacation Rocks! But then there is packing. Ugh.

My flight for Florida leaves at 3:30 in the A. M. (AM!!!)

I haven't packed a thing, I'm supposed to be doing this now.

I'm a procrastinator. Watcha gon' do.

I know what my mom is gonna do. She's gonna nag me into packing and I will grumble. And I will gripe. I will yell, "I hate packing!!" about 18 gadgillion and 9 times (this is an accurate number) whilst I stomp through the house (because this makes packing easier.) (I'm a good coper). And I will grudgingly begin throwing random stuff in my suitcase about 2-3 hours before we are suppose to leave (so that I can get 1-2 hours of my 9 hours of required beauty sleep) and hope for the best.

This is a vacation ritual. (it sounds better this way ha?)

Packing has to be--no. Packing IS. BY FAR. the WORST. part about vacation (next to leaving vacationland and having to unpack and go to work. Talk about a kill-joy.) and it's pretty hard for the spirit to drop when you know vacation is just around the bend.

• 6 consecutive days of non-work. (YEA BABY!!)
• Friends and coworking hard-core hating because you get 6 days of non-work. (Bring on the hate! Give. It. To. Me! I'm loving it!)
• Busiest travel day of the year. Long lines. 5 hours of sitting with minimal elbow space. (Got the iPod on standby, I'm ready for ya! Vacation. Vacation! VACATION! Woot! Woot!)
• Packing.

**shutter**

Ugh.

I need inspiration. Vacation just isn't standing up to the dreaded packing.

This calls for Michael. P.Y.T, Thriller, Billie Jean...Oooo Weeee!

I'm off to stomp now. Let the stomping commence....

Ugh.

When Inspiration Hits...Just Go With It.

So I'm sitting here working (work shmirk. reading blogs and texting), listening to my iPhone on iPod mode and then I hear this:

They told 'em don't you ever come around. hee-Ya!

Don't wanna see yo face you betta disapee-Ya!

That's right folks! Michael. Jackson. I immediately jump out of my chair onto my desk kick my leg out and grab my crotch, did some pelvic thrusts and starting singing at the of my lungs!

Doing the moonwalk atop the cubicle walls, snapping my fingers!

Like a champ!

Who's a Champ?

I'm a champ.

Everywhere A-Champ.Champ.

Okay, I didn't. But I wanted to.

(for the record: I'm still a Champ.) (What? Denial?! Where???)

It was like this surge of energy rushing through my body with the beat of BEAT IT!

Am I the only one who feels this when I hear some old school Michael? I'm thinking no. (lie to me-my blog, my rules).