Monday Mayhem

I am, most unfortunately, back from NC. My mother read an article the other day about people who are addicted to tanning and asked if I thought I might be. I am, it's true. She said that the article called these folks "tanorexics" but I think this is a misnomer. "Orexic" implies to me that they abstain from the sun, like anorexics abstain from food (I am most definately not one of those). I propose, therefore, the term "tanaholics" to describe folks like myself.

Driving back from OBX took us a little longer than usual, about three hours, which isn't bad considering it was a holiday weekend. You learn interesting (and sometimes infuriating) things about people when they are stuck in traffic together. For example, I think most of us are driving ADD when we're forced to stop or slow. Looking around I saw that most people cannot sit still in their cars and just wait to save their lives. They were gesturing wildly, reaching down and in the back for things, talking on the phone, and just generally unable to resist movement. I, of course, ate twizzlers, fooled with my mp3 player and had bizarre and hilarious conversations with the kidlet. Can we as a nation sit still at all? I know I can't, in any situation, car or otherwise.

When did my beach (and yes, it is mine because I've been going there for 27 years, thank you very much) become so damn family-oriented? All I want to do is check out single guys and drink beer in the sun. The men available to ogle are now bogged down by seventeen children, a wife who doesn't pay any attention to said kids, and approximately four thousand pounds of beach gear including bags, sand toys, tents, umbrellas, catamarans, coolers, hats, sunscreen, chairs, kayaks, radios, kites and all things child-interest capturing. Single men with kids would be great, but apparently I'm the only person on earth who likes the place I go in OBX who isn't married with a million kids. Yeah, I could go further south but then it rapidly gets too touristy for me, and the single guys there are at least ten years my junior and more interested in college fresh meat. Can't win for trying. At least the sun, a book and a beer keep me well occupied and happy.

My family Drives. Me. Bonkers. after a certain number of days in the same house with them. I love them dearly, but my father's recent need to become riled up over every little thing and my sister's inability to allow my mother and me any time together by ourselves start to drive me batshit crazy in a rapidly increasing amount of time. Don't even get me started on my mother's "magic lasso" (you know, wonder woman style?). I walk in the door and it takes about one second for me to open my mouth and start confessing all I do wrong, before she even asks. "Yes! I ate crap take out all week, only exercised twice and drink too much! There, are you happy?" It's a magical power, I tell you. Maybe one day I'll harness the strength over the kidlet myself.

In regards to my incessant trip overpacking failures, I present example A: this weekend. Worn: one bathing suit and cover up skirt, one sundress, one pair of jeans and tshirt (in the car to and from), one bra (sundress doesn't require one), three pairs of underwear, one pair flip flops, one pair of work out pants and tshirt for walking. Taken, but not worn: two pairs of jeans, three tshirts, three bras, three pairs of socks, a second bathing suit, two extra pairs of underwear. This is relatively tame for my overpacking tendancies.

The guy who is in the office next to me, you know, Mr. Self-Conversation, smokes. Alot. He is probably in and out for a smoke break every hour at least. He reeks like cigarettes (where as I, on the other hand, reek of awesomeness! *snort*). Now, as a confessed ex-smoker the act itself doesn't bother me too much (except when I'm hungover the next morning after a bar crawl and the smell of my hair makes me sick to my stomach) but this is rediculous. Seriously dude, if I can smell you coming all the way down the hall, and your eau de cigarette reaches me a full minute before you actually appear, you might want to cut down a bit. Just sayin'.