That Seagull Just Ate All our Cheese!

        Here's what's smarter not harder- working two days per week.  Boom.  That's what I did last week.  Most people work five days and have two days off, but I work two days and have five days off.  Nailed it.

Duhrrrrrr. I read this before my flight to LGB

        My reward for spending 10 days in blasted England was flying to Cali and going to Catalina for my friend's 30th birthday celebration.

This is us.  She's pregnant.  Note the casino in the back ground.  (It is no longer a working casino.)

        Now, if you've ever been to Catalina Island, you know there isn't a whole lot to do besides drink and fend off murderous seagulls who are trying to steal your snack cheese.

Nick minding his own business, oblivious to the evil seagull over his shoulder.

        If you haven't been to Catalina, then you are probably a commoner who goes camping for vacation.  In which case, I am surprised you are reading this because it's way out of your league.  Unless of course, you are my mortal enemy(s) and are studying this blog in order to strategically plot my demise.  If you fall into the latter category, well played.  

       Anyway, I digress...

        

        If you have  been to Catalina, and realize my point about the strange combination of alcohol and seagull attacks, you know this makes you S.O.L. if you happen to be pregnant.  (See above picture of E. F. Johnston- joke's on her.)  This is precisely why we almost died paddle boarding.

        While everyone else was drinking homemade margaritas and giggling maniacally about the dinner menu including meatballs, Fairbanks was totally sober.  (So was I, but only because now that I'm old, I get hang-overs.  It is the worst.) We were surrounded by drunk fools; thus, the next obvious step was to go paddle boarding.  So, since I am a stellar friend- plus I look awesome doing water sports- I was her partner in crime.  

We have been P.I.C. many times before...before we realized headbands are for college students only.

        It turns out that a pregnant lady on a paddle board = mini disaster.   To be fair, it was her baby's fault that she had horrible balance (that little jack wagon.)  Also, she was freaking-the-french-toast-out because we were plagued by killer seals who kept trying to knock her off her board.

        Now, the rational mind knows that in the unlikely event a rogue seal had bumped her into the *freezing* cold water, it was only because he wanted to hug her with his slimy flippers, and congratulate her on her baby and 30th birthday. Then again, I have never had a rational mind, and Fairbanks has clearly never watched Animal Nightmares.  To be fair, I have not seen an episode where the killer was a seal...yet.  Also, Animal Nightmares almost always occur in the deadliest place ever (Australia,) and the murderers are an even split between great white sharks and salt water crocodiles.   You'd think we were safe. 

        I reassuringly screeched, "Don't worry, Fairbanks, that seal that is 2 feet in front of us will not tip us over."

        Translation:  holy shit, this seal is taunting us and then he is going to tip us over an eat us.  That monster!  We are the next episode of "Animal Nightmares" waiting to happen.  I played it cool, though, so Preggers wouldn't lose it.  Thankfully, we have both lived to tell the tale.

No thanks to this jerk

        If you ever have the misfortune of being pregnant on Catalina Island, and find yourself next on the long list of victims in Animal Nightmares, make sure you act natural.  Seagulls and baby seals can smell fear.

     

With a tow row row row row...

        As many of you know, I have recently returned from a trip to visit my sister in England.  The good news is, I had a great time with Stephanie, and we ran a half marathon together!  The bad news is, I had to go to England, which I mostly hate.

I didn't hate this place- they had good breakfast

        Now, in case you are British, or you love someone who is British, and I have, thereby, just insulted you and your whole family, I am sorry.  You really shouldn't take it personally.  My dislike of all things UK is a slight dramatic overreaction to do with a Bible school on a sheep farm and an inability to count foreign change.  Also, they could use a few more public restrooms- how is a person supposed to stay hydrated and keep from peeing her pants?  Nearly impossible.  And for the record, in a contest recently run by the British National Army Museum, George Washington was voted Britain's greatest foe (he beat Napoleon, P.S.,) so they have their issues with us too.

       Actually, I shouldn't say I dislike "all things UK" because I have never been to Ireland, and I really love Scotland.  What's to love about Scotland, you ask?  See for yourself...

Whiskey.  More importantly, whiskey on your nightstand at your B&B

Whiskey.  More importantly, whiskey that goes with breakfast

Traditional Scottish breakfast- obvi

Spooky historical tours

Spooky [and dead] historical tour guides

        Three of my favorite things are featured in this country: whiskey, breakfast, and ghosts. However, it's not a perfect place.  Get a load of this...

        This is a plus sized clothing store called "Big Ideas."  Excuse me, RUDE.  Who would want to shop at Big Ideas? Can you see the awkward conversations that happen because of this store?  "Great shirt, Fran where did you get it?"  "Oh, I popped over and picked it up at Big Ideas."  No thank you!  And did they really need to park a van that says "oink" in the shape of a pig on the hood right out front?  So insensitive.

       Still, I saw my sister...

 and I won this sparkly medal.

      So it was definitely worth the trip.  That being said, I'm glad to be home.  I like having a normal sized refrigerator. I like being able to hydrate without having a panic attack regarding where to find the next bathroom.  I like going to the grocery store and knowing how to count the change.  I like being able to understand the people I am speaking with (believe me, it's a whole different kind of English language over there- luckily, I had my sister as a translator.) 

        As the plane was landing at SeaTac yesterday, the theme song from "Team America World Police" was playing in my mind as the ultimate sound track for the situation.

        America! F@&* yeah! Here to save the mother f@#$ing day yeah!  

        Now you know that British people flying home from the States don't have visions of bald eagles and that bad ass theme song playing in their heads.  How great can it be if your plane landing music is very likely "British Grenadiers?"

        But of all the world's  great heroes there's none that can compare.

        With a tow row row row row row row, to the British Grenadiers.

       Believe me, it is not improved if you know the tune.  Also, this song is about a million years old, so it probably requires a flautist and a tambourine player for accompaniment.   I think we all know who wins here.