Flying Time & Vacation Tidbits

You know what they say: time flies when you aren’t blogging.

Well, obviously, that’s what someone MEANT to say when the phrase “Time flies when you’re having fun” was instead coined. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. Because that makes perfect morbid sense. Seriously, who came up with that? And why does every child on the planet know that expression? And is Dr. Phil aware of this pandemic?

I didn’t even realize how long it had been until I saw the date of my last post: January 31, 2013. Say what? Almost a month? What have I been doing?

A little of this. A little of that. A lot of attending dance classes on some cruise ship and making this confused concentration constipation face in every single photo that some paparazzi named Rick took.

It’s “Single Ladies.” (Clearly.) With the exception of a more ample rear, Beyoncé hasn’t got anything on me. In fact, that aforementioned paparazzi liked it so much, he put a ring on it. (Bahahahaha…ha…eh.)

Here I am with my paparazzi in New Orleans, which is where our ship picked us up.

We were traveling with my family (minus brother--sad face), Rick’s family, and a whole crew of lovely people from our church. The 19 of us walked a mile from our hotel to the ship, all of our luggage in tow. It was like a Mardi Gras parade minus the beads and inebriation.

We ported in Progresso and Cozumel, Mexico. Pictured below is where Rick would work if he was a Mexican pharmacist. My guess is that customers inquiring whether certain, um, body parts are supposed to look like pickles would be even more entertaining when asked with an accent. No quiero un pickle. El pickle? Si. Ah, un pickle muy mal.

And this is where I would buy my ribbon if I were a Mexican pharmacist’s Mexican wife. (Note to self: work on tan and learn how to say five yards on the bias en Español.)

We also couldn’t help but take a photo of the gorgeous beach in Progresso. And the lady casually waving around a human head in front of said beach.

How the heck have YOU been? Want to have a dance-off? You don’t recognize that head, do you?