I’ve been back from Wyoming for over a week and have yet to write. I guess I needed more of a vacation than I thought. This past ten days I’ve spent a lot of time wading in the pools of other creative venues, like
watching shark week painting and reading. But the itch to write……it’s back.
**Shark Week is the only time during the year I get to use the phrase chum slick and it’s relevant. In fact, it’s become the answer to everything, similar to the ole that’s-what-she-said-last-night. I kind of can’t stop.
CHUM SLICK. (last time)
On my last post I asked for you to guess what embarrassing or awkward thing might happen to me during my trip. I got predictions ranging from totally outlandish (fall over chin hair into a den of snakes and shart on a bear) to the fairly typical (trip, or grab some guy’s ass mistaking him for the hubs, or accidentally flash a boob).
None of those things happened. In fact, it was a relatively incident free week.
I did walk into a column so hard it left an enormous bruise on my upper arm that’s just now fading. This column was in our bedroom, which was a loft with a severely low, slanted ceiling. I brained myself on that ceiling no less than 87 times, but the worst was my complete inability to contain my laughter when my husband hit his head, also no less than 87 times.
I mean, that shit’s just funny, right?
More than anything, this trip was chock-full of learning experiences.
For instance, I learned that incontinence is worse at high altitudes, as evidenced in the following photo series. Here I am sandwiched between my real life wife (as opposed to my blog wife) and her husband, Jeff. You can clearly see I’m relaxed and smiling.
But after repeated attempts by Jeff to get his giant thumb to hit the take-this-effing-photo button, the giggles started. When the next photo finally took, my face is all oh-shit-I’m-peeing-right-now, and I’m lower in the photo due to an emergency thigh squinch (<that’s a word)
*just as an aside, this photo of my wife is likened to a yeti sighting. She was very kind to let me use it on the blog. That and I got her wasted before asking permission. Also? She technically won most embarrassing incident before we even left Texas. Using some old, over-zealous hair removal wax, she essentially burned off the top layer of her chin skin. For about three days, she emanated a reddish aura-like glow. (she’s going to kick my ass when she reads this, but it’s totally worth it)
This high altitude explosion of giggles followed by rapid thigh squinch and inevitable urine release was not a single incident.
And I learned I have a “tell”. Unless otherwise occupied, my hand always covers my mouth when I’m laughing so hard that other bodily functions are a free-for-all. Here I am trying to have a civilized dinner when all hell breaks loose.
And these are just the incidences caught on camera.
I also learned that my impulsiveness has limits. Out of no where, I decided I’d be tempted to paraglide. After all, I’d be jumping tandem with a professional…how dangerous could it be?
It was going to happen. Until I looked it up online.
It wasn’t the price that scared me off. I mean, I expected it to cost several hundred dollars and I’d come to terms with it.
It was the Go-Cam video from an actual jump.
Ya’ll. It looked like they were jumping from f#cking space. The town below…it was so tiny. And, as with most of these adventures, you had to book in advance, which gave me too much time to think about it.
Basically, my paragliding hard-on went flaccid.
What I need is an IWRT (immediate whim response team).
You want to paraglide? BOOM. You’re jumping off a mountain. Right. Now.
You want a tattoo? BOOM. The needle just pierced your skin.
You want to do naughty things to the river raft guide? NO. Access denied. Your IWRT has strict guidelines.
In summary (finally) it was an incredible trip. We were with our friends. Everyone had fun. We hiked. We kayaked. We laughed. We ate good. We saw wild animals. We drank. We laughed some more. The hubs and I got show our boys the exact spot where we were married, and we celebrated our 13th anniversary of that marriage while we were there.
Life is good. We are beyond grateful.
So who won the contest? It was a tough call, actually. But technically, there was only one person whose prediction was pure and simple loss of bladder control, and exactly no one guessed I’d slam into a column, or ram my head into a dropped ceiling 87 times. So……
The winner is……
To the rest of you who played along, thank you for making me laugh so hard! Your comments were GOLD.
I leave you with my favorite image from the trip. An incredibly rare (for the blogoshere) family photo. Our bodies may be back in Texas, but our hearts remain in the Wyoming mountains.
#chumslick (I lied. But this is the last time. Fah real)
okay, so tell me, have you ever peed-yer-pants this many times in one week? What was your most memorable vacation? Does your spontaneity have limits?