Holy Juevos Rancheros

We leave tomorrow. It's after midnight, so I can say that. The kids are packed. I am packed-ish. I have gotten voicemails from MIL (you know, since she doesn't have my email address ... even though I've had the same email for a decade - myfirstname@OURLASTNAME) talking about what to pack, how *I* should look in order to make a good impression, you know, the usual.

I'm not even dignifying her with a response. I did, however, buy a large bottle of gin. How's that for an impression, you crazy old bat?

T Minus 6

The countdown continues, despite my best efforts to slow and/or reverse time. Mr. Man got an email from his mother, talking about how she didn't want us to pack clothes we weren't going to wear on the trip, so that nixed the jean shorts for the photos. I am, of course, devastated. No more than two sentences later she reminded Mr. Man to pack his tuxedo for formal night. Yes, I don't want you to pack anything unnecessary, but don't forget your tuxedo! My MIL, she is a piece of work.

Bugger

I'm sitting in bed, wide awake. Again. There are now 11 days until the #murderatsea cruise. The only thing I have purchased is sunscreen. OK, technically, the girls have everything they will need, though it is nowhere near packed. I have gone to purchase some sundresses, to no avail.

HINT: Old Navy, when you say you are having a sundress sale, you should have more than 3 styles of dresses in the store. Also, you should have more than 3 of each style. Did you know there are more sizes beyond XS and XXL? It's true. LOOK INTO IT.

I hate shopping. Hate. It. Capital H A T E, with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. Having to buy stuff for myself, when I am currently the size I am (a virtual planetoid), sucks ASS. (I am using a lot of capital letters. Hrm.)

I have no idea what point I'm trying to make. I guess it's mostly that I will be trapped on a boat with the in-laws from hell soon, and I have nothing to wear. Yes, that sounds about right.

Jorts Haiku

Oh denim short pants

The bane of my existence

Seriously, dude.

My mother-in-law

Seems to find you fabulous

She's batshit crazy

There's no effing way

I will be documented

Wearing shitty jorts

An atrocity

It's what I liken them to

Oops preposition

It is like I said,

The bane of my existence

M. I. L. and jorts

I'm baaaaaaaaack

I had to delete the other blog site, because the in-laws had received an inkling that it existed. Duck and weave, duck and weave, serpentine! Anyway, we are being forced in to a happy fun times family vacation with them.

On twitter, I call it the #murderatsea cruise. As vacations with these crazy people always make for good blog fodder, I've decided to revive this one. Lord knows they will work my last. good. nerve. on this trip.

Good to be back.