Wishful Wednesday

This is someplace I would like to be. Wishing I was here too! Where do you wish you were?

The Shortest Week

After all the planning, preparing, packing and driving I was expecting it to last longer. There are really only two ways to get to the Outer Banks or OBX for short. As the old saying goes: 'One if by land, two if by sea'. My sister and her crew comes from the north(Yankees) down from Virginia on Hwy 12 through Nags Head until she reaches Avon, NC.(I don't know if they have an Avon lady there or not.) Meanwhile, Mom is steadfast in her resolution that the only way to get there is to take the ferry. Two of them. (I'm against this) Somehow, during the two days of driving along the back roads of North Carolina relearning my multiplication tables,(I still can't remember what 11 x 11 equals) practicing my German(Nein) and wondering Why I ever liked Social Studies, (my niece's school work)she had managed to talk me into it. That's what moms do. It's day 3 of our vacation and we had finally made it to the coast. Its later than we wanted it to be because Mom had wanted to sleep in this morning. I had succumbed to Mom's subtle pressure to go ahead and make a reservation to get on the ferry. The first two time slots were completely booked so we had to settle for the 2:00 PM crossing. Ferry crossing #1 lasts over 2 hours and the last crossing is about 45 minutes. As we reach the outskirts of Avon, the time is now 6:00 PM, we're exhausted and the middle-aged fat woman is yet to put her toes in the sand. Day 4--Rain, rain and more rain. No sand yet. Days 5,6 & 7--Perfect. Sun, sand, sunburns, heartburn, upset stomaches, flounder bites, swollen ankles, feet and sisters. No towels, out of toilet paper,(again) I'm bored,(go play, go read a book, go outside). Cookouts on the beach. (that's another story) Now, we're on vacation!! Day 8--Mom tells me she wants to leave early tomorrow so we can catch the early ferry. Time to start packing. Days 9 & 10--Another 48 hours of ferries, back roads, searching for bathrooms, and reading gas price signs ($4.39 a gallon)(Holy Crap!!) should have left me wanting to get back home as quickly as possible. (Nein, I can't wait until next year!)

New Bathing Suit

Beachgoers beware!! The middle-aged fat woman is coming soon to a beach near you with a brand new bathing suit. Cover your children's eyes. What was that flash of white?(my pearly white skin) I don't care what anyone says, this year I'm going to the beach for a whole week and I am going to enjoy every minute of it. So I bought myself a new swimsuit. I didn't try it on 'cause I know what size I am. Plus, I don't like to use dressing rooms.(I always think someone is watching through those mirrors) And if you're at one of those big stores where the dressing room is out in the middle with no ceiling, they can look right down and check out your stuff.(Makes me shiver and cringe) I hate to admit it but I spent over $18.00 on my new swimsuit. Seems like an awful lot of money for a little piece of string. I picked out a nice brown jungle pattern that matched the splotchiness in my complexion and was the color of my new sandals. Once I got home I thought I would try it on and see how it looks. I began to remove all of the tags including the price tag,(paid too much) the security tag,(it only cost 18 bucks) the designer label,(yeah, right) and lastly, that other thing called a panty shield. (Gross) Ok, I'm ready to take that first step. One leg goes in, then the other. I begin to pull the one-piece upwards toward my hips and am met with a slight resistance.(Not a problem, happens all the time) I tug harder and up it snaps(OW). I insert each arm into the proper slot and begin to pull, stretch, twist and contort myself into my new suit. I begin to adjust everything and put it where it normally sags, but darn it, if the shoulder straps don't keep slipping off my shoulders.(I hate that) My chest is heaving, sweat is dripping off my brow, I think I might have pulled a muscle in my back trying to get the stupid thing on. Now, comes the moment of truth. I turn around and look in the full-length mirror to check myself out. My head turns to the left, then the right, I turn around and look at the back....I shake my head and say to myself, "Aren't you glad you bought the matching coverup?"