OK, Pranksters, since Becky is off in the ocean somewhere living it up and Internet access on a cruise is like 17 gazillion dollars a minute, she
begged convinced the lovely Heather Spohr of The Spohrs Are Multiplying to fill in for her today. Which is totally RAD.
So enjoy, and don’t forget to ask me questions for this Sunday’s Go Ask The Daver!
— your The Daver.
So that lucky vagina Becky is on a cruise, leaving the rest of us at home, on dry land, totally not enjoying all you can eat food or questionably dressed passengers. Or tons of things to do, gorgeous pools, and warm weather. Or people waiting on you hand and foot, beautiful views, and did I mention the all you can eat food?
Some people have all the luck.
I have been on a cruise once in my life. When I was 21 and a senior in college, one of my friends got the idea that a cruise would be a great way to spend spring break. It caught on like wildfire, and suddenly everyone I knew was going. Well, OK not EVERYONE I knew, but there were twenty three people going. I begged my parents for the money to go, (IT WILL BE OUR LAST HURRAH! WE’RE SENIORS! WHY DON’T YOU LOOOOOVE MEEEEEEEEEEE?!), and I soon found myself on a cruise ship to Mexico.
I get insane motion sickness – cars, planes, boats, you name it, I get sick. Before I left for the cruise, my doctor wrote me a prescription for a seasickness patch that went right behind my earlobe. It was AMAZING. I was never sick, even when the seas were crazy and all my friends had their heads in buckets. I felt invincible.
You know what made me feel even MORE invincible? Alcohol. I didn’t know it at the time, but sea sickness patch…enhanced…the effects of alcohol. They should probably put that on the label. After two drinks, I was good to go. Of course, being 21 years old, I never stopped at two. That would have been RESPONSIBLE.
On one of the first nights, I had a few glasses of champagne, and I suddenly had a moment of clarity: I was related to George W. Bush! I started to tell all my friends. “You guys…I have to tell you that he’s my uncle. It’s awkward sometimes because we differ politically, but he’s family and I am suuuuuper close with the twins.” I told strangers. I told the wait staff. I pretty much convinced everyone I was related to the president. And by convinced everyone, I mean I became notorious as a total drunk whack job.
Another night, I enjoyed a few more glasses of champers, then went dancing. After we left the boat’s club, we went up to the late-night buffet. While we waiting for our drinks to arrive, I became completely parched. So I reached for the water on the table and brought it up to my mouth. So what if it happened to be a vase full of flowers?
Needless to say, I have yet to live either of those incidents down. And now I’m pretty sure my parents are going to demand I repay them the money they spent.
Becky, if you try to convince people you’re related to Obama, I will love you forever. But don’t drink vase water. It doesn’t taste good.