really, my recent visit to the island was a string of comedic blunders.
night before departure, drunken psm tears over disappointment over bad weather. alarm set wrong so awakened hour late in the morning, rush to a bus, then a car, then a ferry.
ferry food. bleh *shiver*.
moseying on a little wander-bout, visiting town of murals and becoming significantly lost in attempt to locate the hosts' home. late arrival.
playing with the dog, playing with the baby. a never ending wine glass resulting in an invitation to stay the night.
getting too drunk to drive home while having an hourly rental car - painful financial consequences. drinking, smoking, vomiting, passing out before dinner was served - after 9p mind.
hang over, bear scouting. porridge of mortar and a steep, brisk hike.
departure, forgottens, race against time with a dignified win.
all while unwashed, wearing ratty yoga jammies, accompanied by a wounded bambi, if you will.
[ed note: if i never witness another head bowing bridge squeeze with a side of mournful sigh again, i think i will manage to live another day.]
i suppose i was looking for a break to the boredom, and as my boss best indicated - a good cocktail party story.