SexFest 2006 (a.k.a. What We Did on Our Cruise Vacation)

Here it is, a week late. You people get really bitchy when you know we've done something new, and there's no blog post. The pressure is crippling, and I spent much of last week curled in a ball in a filthy corner of our bathroom, chewing on my knuckles. I hope you're happy.

DAY 1: I'm Going to Miami (Welcome to Miami)
This day was uneventful. A typical day of travel. Here's a breakdown, but if you start getting bored, then skip to Day 2.

You know how airports ask you to check in three hours before a flight? Our flight was at 7:00am, so we had to be at the airport at 4:00am, which made no sense since the American Airlines check-in counter didn't even open until 4:15am. Dumbasses!

We had an uneventful flight to Miami, got our luggage, got transported to the pier, got on the cruise ship, and attacked the lunch buffet like starving orphans. The gluttony had commenced.

We explored the ship. It was old. The upholstery was worn, and the vinyl was faded, and the ceilings were low. I didn't want to touch anything. So we went to our cabin and touched each other instead. Then we passed out. Whoo-hoo! So far so AWESOME!!

Dinner, Name That Tune in a piano lounge, comedian show - comedian made fun of me, ate pizza, went dancing like whores. Went back to room, more touching - like whores. Sexy sex. Sneepy sneep.

Day 2: We Are Loved By Mexicans
This was the day of our first port of call - Coco Cay. Coco Cay is a made-up name for a private island owned by Royal Caribbean. Eric and I got up super early, at around 7:00am. We showered and put on sunscreen and packed up our beach gear. We had breakfast at the buffet (SMOKED SALMON AND SAUSAGES!!), and caught the second tender out to the island.

The beach was practically empty, with five thousand empty inviting beach chairs, all lined up in neat rows on the sand. We walked along the entire beach and chose a spot to settle down for the day: somewhere in the middle with approximately 2500 chairs to our left, and 2500 chairs to our right. We lay down and basked in the gorgeous gentle morning sun for about half an hour.

Then a ruckus was heard to our right. There approached a large Mexican family, loudly Spanishing away in Spanish. They were friendly, very friendly. They sat down very very close to us, about two chairs away. What the hell?? There are 2500 chairs down that side of the beach, you couldn't move over some more?? We didn't even mind so much because they were so friendly. Maybe they liked the way our faces looked. We have nice faces, Eric especially. So we tried to go back to dozing. But then two of them lit up their cigarettes.

I'm sorry, but cigarettes are disgusting, and if you smoke, you're grossatating. If you sit next to me on a beach and smoke, I will likely pick up my things and leave. And it will be because you are grossatating.

So we picked up our things and moved about 20 chairs to the left. Now we had about 20 chairs to our right side, and the previous 2500 (now 2480) chairs on our left side. We started dozing again.

We could hear people slowly trickling onto the beach, setting up their stuff, going into the water. Normal happy beach sounds. There were still a lot of chairs empty on either side of us. We felt relaxed and happy. Suddenly, another Spanish ruckus started up behind us, and there approached yet another humongous Mexican family! Why do Mexicans travel in herds? There were 15 to 20 people in this group. And they were Spanishing away in Spanish, at about twice the volume of the previous family. And they set up camp RIGHT NEXT to us!! Literally, a greasy man chose the chair right next to Eric. There were at least 1000 chairs down that side of the beach!! They couldn't have set up a few chairs over? This group wasn't so friendly. They shouted at each other a lot, and Eric's greasy new buddy took out his sunning oil and started spreading it over his body. He looked at Eric. Then he bent over, slathering it on his legs, thrusting his ass at my husband's pretty head. Eric had only to turn his head slightly to the left, and his nose would be raping this man's greased-up butt.

I decided this was enough of the homo beach seduction. We inflated our inflatable floatey things, and got in the water.

I'm a retard in the water. I'm not a very good swimmer, and I'm one of those people who has to inch into the water a tiny bit at a time because I don't like the coldness. I hate the assholes who splash water all over you and laugh like it's funny. They need to die.

Eric: (gracefully pushes horizontally into the water. Stands up, body dripping and hair soaking. Shakes head back and forth in slow motion with eyes closed. Runs hands down body, opens eyes. Greasy Mexican has orgasm.) Hey honey, get in!

Carol: (standing knee deep in water, cellulite thighs pressed together, arms tight at sides, very tense) DON'T RUSH ME!

Eric: Okay okay, take your time, I'm not rushing you.

I take baby steps out to Eric until I'm up to my waist in water. This is usually where I need to brace myself and dunk down to my shoulders really fast.

Carol: I'm going to get the rest of me wet now.

Eric: Okay.

Time passes. I look up at the sky, try to gauge the (non existent) wind. I look back at the chairs to make sure our bag is still there. I glare at the loud Mexicans. I check to make sure my boobs are covered.

Eric: Honey? Are you going to get in the water?

Carol: (very tense) DON'T RUSH ME!!

Eric: Okay! Okay, I'm not rushing you.

Time passes. I start making casual conversation with him, what does he think we'll have for lunch, isn't the weather nice.

Eric: (looks at Carol)

Carol: (very tense) DON'T RUSH ME!

Eric: We got in the water TWENTY MINUTES AGO.

Carol: Fine!! (frantic dunk)

Eric: (full of pity) Oh sweetie. You're one of those kids who doesn't know how to have fun in the water.

At lunch, the cruise ship brought food onto the island and did a huge BBQ with burgers, hot dogs, chicken, and RIBS! I'm a whore for ribs. If you're skinny enough that your ribs stick out, I will gnaw on your torso. As Eric took a little bit of everything, I cut the bullshit and loaded up a plate with ribs about half a foot high. I gobbled it down, spraying rib juice everywhere. Then we got back in the water and proceeded to obtain extreme sunburns.

We left the island at around 4:00pm, and went to our cabin for showers, after which we proceeded to have sunburnt masochistic sex. Lying on your back, being bitten and pounded into low-threadcount sheets while you have a sunburn all over your back is extremely painful. But now I think I like the feel of my skin on fire. Sexy.

Dinner, show, Caribbean midnight buffet, stupid dancing. You know what song pisses me off? DJ Casper's Cha-Cha Slide. That song with the recording of a man calling out dance moves. It's horrible. And it gets stuck in your head! As soon as that song started playing, I got very cranky, starting swearing, and we had to leave. I might have been tired.

Back to the cabin, more masochistic sexy sex. Then sneepy sneep. It had been an excellent day.

Day 3: Happy 'Versary!
The entire trip had been building up to this most momentous day, the anniversary of the day we exchanged vows and bound ourselves to each other forever. As it turns out, this day was very uneventful. It was pretty anticlimatic. It rained when we got to Nassau. However, there were two Tortuga Rum Cake factories on this island, and they give out free samples. Eric was determined to get a free sample of rum cake. So we went for a walk in the rain, splashing through puddles, wandering the streets of Nassau in search of the free cake samples. We found it, tucked up a sketchy alley. They gave us each one-inch cubes of rum cake. We ate them. Then we went back to the ship.

There was no point going to the beach this day, because it was all rainy and gross. Plus, we definitely didn't need any more sun. We played games, read books, bonked each other like whores, took naps. We played 70's disco Name That Tune, which sucked ass. Why not 90's Name That Tune?? Age discrimination. Eric and I were terrible, we wrote "Boogie Nights" for every song we didn't recognize. Which was 17 out of 20. Then we did 80's Line Dancing. I think they just made up some lame dance moves and called it 80's Line Dancing. It was fun, but the moves made no sense and didn't fit in with the music at all. All except the last one "Thriller" by Michael Jackson: Scare, Scare, Double Scare! Scare, Scare, Double Scare!

The waiters came to our table that night to sing "Happy 'Versary to you". Then we watched a show, packed our suitcase, watched people sing karaoke, stood on the top deck and gazed romantically at the stars, ate some pizza, danced at the club till we couldn't stand anymore, and then stumbled back to our room.

The pressure was on...it was the anniversary night, there had to be sexy sex! But I was exhausted. I'm not going to lie to you, it was a very huge effort, and I almost fell asleep twice. But we didn't die, yay sweet dry exhausted sunburnt masochistic 'versary sex! I no longer have any vaginal lining.

Day 4: Back to the Shire
Day o' travel. The most exciting part of this whole day: Eric and I went to a restaurant when we got home and ordered a Peking Duck. It was glorious.

And that was our anniversary cruise vacation.

Oh Gloria II

In a few hours, we're leaving for a BAHAMAS CRUISE to celebrate our first wedding anniversary!

My old roommate Gloria very sweetly called about 10 minutes ago.

Gloria: "Hi! I just wanted to give you two a call and say happy first anniversary even though I know it's not your anniversary yet! And I hope you have a GREAT trip!"

Carol: "Oh, that's so sweet! Thank you so much, you sweetie!"

Gloria: "No problem!"

(general inquiries regarding one anothers health and goings-on, mostly boring)

Gloria: "By the way, I wanted to tell you. I've lost the ability to give good blow jobs."

Carol: "Oh?"

Gloria: "Yeah! It's been like a year and a half, and I'm totally out of practice! I've had Camping Chris over to scratch an itch more than once in the past little while, and I'm literally no good at it!"

Carol: "That's really unfortunate. If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure I'm no good at it anymore, but that's mainly because I've become lazy."

Gloria: "No, like this is really bad. I mean I'm so bad, I just suck at it!"

Carol: "You...uh. You just suck at it? Heh heh heh...heh."

Gloria: "Oh. Dammit, you're going to blog about this, aren't you?"

How great is she?

So yeah, in other news, it's our one year wedding anniversary this Sunday, and we're going to be in the Bahamas getting tanned! Whoo-hoo!

I looked it up, and the traditional first wedding anniversary gift is Paper. So I got Eric a paperback novel to read on the plane, and a stupidly overpriced board game. Turns out Eric also looked it up, and he got me a board game too! How cute are we?!

You guys should come over and play.

Memories of a faithful lover

Eric has been on a huge anti-deepfry kick for the past couple weeks. He read an article in the Globe and Mail about this experiment with these mice, and trans fats, and stomach fat or something, and now he's a spiritual warrior in the battle against deepfried foods.

I don't think I can describe to you my love of deepfry. If my arm could regenerate, I would batter, deepfry, and eat it. I love deepfry so much, I should have married it instead of Eric.

I remember the day I got my first deepfryer. I was unpacking in September of 2002 in the Kingston apartment I shared with Gloria, when she pulled up in her green Volvo for the first time that year. She had all her moving-in stuff with her, and one of the first things she brought in was a present for me - a deepfryer!!

It was extremely old, and the basket had no handle. I think someone found it in a garbage can and asked her parents if they thought anyone could use it. Gloria said I could use it. She was correct.

I went right out and bought potatoes, mozza sticks, and a bucket of oil. I spent a night deepfrying said potatoes and mozza sticks. Eric, Gloria and I devoured their crispy hot goodness. The next day, everyone was in class, and I was home for some reason. I walked into my kitchen holding my stomach, bloated and gassy from the previous night's deepfried indulgence. I looked in my freezer and noticed some frozen Chinese green onion pancakes. Hmm. Frozen Chinese green onion pancakes are usually panfried in oil...so why not try to deepfry them in oil?

So I fired up the deepfryer with the oil from the previous night and deepfried a frozen Chinese green onion pancake. I cut it into wedges. It smelled delicious. I sat down and started eating.

My deepfried Chinese green onion pancake tasted like mozza sticks.

But I ate it anyway. Then I deepfried another one.

On what I consider to be an unrelated note, I gained 15 pounds that year.

We now have a little "professional" deepfryer for the home. It's made by Waring Pro, and it's wonderful. We've added onion rings, zucchini sticks, battered shrimp, breaded mushrooms, and breaded eggplant to the list of Things We Deepfry. Each experiment has been a raging success, and the joy that comes from these foods is unparalleled!

And now, Eric has banned the use of this most beloved appliance until further notice.

Deepfry I love you, and we will be together again some day. Eric can't keep us apart forever.

On what I consider to be yet another unrelated note, my recent weight-gain of 25 pounds is slowly coming off, it seems. I wish I had my lover deepfry to console me in this difficult time.

I have a rash

On my tummy. It's just to the left (my left) of my bellybutton, and it itches like a motherfrakker. It's red and bumps out slightly. I think it's getting worse. It is freaking me out.

I don't get skin irritation too much. Sometimes when I wear cheap jewelry made out of base metals or something like that, I might get an itchy small rash on my neck where the chain was. But it goes away after about a day, and isn't very big.

Does anybody know what this could be? Does anybody else have an inexplicable rash on their body?

I'm going to the doctor's after work today. I hope I don't have herpes.

(For those of you who have commented on how you miss the accompanying pictures on my blog, I want you to know that I googled "rash", and found a lot of disgusting images that you don't want to see. Have you ever seen pictures of a smallpox rash? NASTY. I am also not planning on posting a picture of my rash. Hopefully, the next post will lend itself better to accompanying pictures. I apologize for the inconvenience.)

Oh Gloria

My old roommate Gloria has an unfortunate habit of messing up her sayings and making them turn out wrong. I enjoy them so much, I need to share them with the blogsphere.

People sometimes add the word "ass" to the end of an adjective to give it extra oomph.
Examples: Big-ass rock, Dumb-ass boyfriend, Stupid-ass father.

Two days ago, Gloria called me up to have the following conversation:

Gloria: "Why are there no good guys out there? I haven't had sex in AGES!"

Carol: "There are, you just need to stop being so impossibly picky. You're so impossibly picky 99% of the time, that you never get any sex. And then that 1% of the time occurs when you get so desperate that you'll have sex with a hobo. Then you accidentally fall in love with the hobo and become scarred for life. Then you become impossibly picky again."

Gloria: "It's not fair!! Why can't I just have some sex? I JUST WANT SOME REGULAR, NORMAL-ASS SEX!!"

Carol: "You...you want some ass-sex?"

Eric: (eavesdropping) "Oh my god."

I am so happy that Gloria is hanging out with us again.

What I Did On The Weekend

O Canada.

I love Canada Day long weekend. It's so festive and exciting. Last year, we didn't celebrate Canada Day so much as we celebrated Luke and Cathy's Canada Day Wedding, and then woke up the next morning to move into our new condo, hungover like shit. Because shit can get really hungover...like over the toilet bowl, hanging from your butthole...or something.

So this year we were determined to make up for lost time - by taking a five day weekend!!

THURSDAY NIGHT
We left Toronto at 6:30pm, and started driving to Kingston. An hour earlier, I had scored sleeping arrangements at a friend's house...I should probably call her TheHippie here, because ThePeach's blog calls her that, and ThePeach seems to have a thing for anonymity. Because she is a movie star assassin. From Africa. Though...does this ruin anything if I say I'm driving to Kingston? Whatever, this is my blog, and I say screw you anonymity! SCREW YOU!!

So we drove into Kingston, and went directly to Greco's, the tastiest place on Earth. Greco's is our FAVOURITE restaurant. Did you see the bold capital letters? We LURVE Greco's. We lurve Greco's so much, that a week after we got engaged, we drove to Kingston to tell the people at Greco's we had gotten engaged. We lurve them so much, we should have married them instead of each other.

We had planned to pop in for a quick dinner, because it was about 9:00pm by the time all the kissy kissy hellos were finished, and we were sitting down. And we had to meet up with TheHippie. Well, one thing led to another, and we ended up doing the full-blown Greco's experience, complete with extensive overeating and the drinking of a beautiful bottle of Cormon's Pinot Grigio. The owner sat down and had a drink with us. Our waiter sat down and had a drink with us. I ate till I was sick. I stumbled out of there with a great buzz and a stomach distended out to the harbour. I was sexy.

We met up with TheHippie and ThePeach at TheSketchySketchyBarNamedAfterATropicalBird. Having drinks and chatting with ThePeach and TheHippie is FUN TIMES! They have exciting and hilarious stories which are so very entertaining when acted out. Not to mention, ThePeach's metro doctor boyfriend FauxHawk got to meet my metro programmer husband Eric, and I swear they were flirting a bit. FauxHawk might have turned Eric on to expensive shaving accoutrements. I'm not sure how I feel about this.

In any case, we left TheSketchySketchyBarNamedAfterATropicalBird way later than planned, and went back to TheHippie's place for slumber. ZzzzZzzzzZzzzz.

Sex: Negative.

FRIDAY
We woke up early, around 8:00am. Sick, I know. TheHippie had to drive to her cottage, so we were booting it out of there so as not to be overly inconvenient...I was rather hungover from the moderate drinking the night before, and I just wanted to hang out somewhere and relax. Eric the Sadist Husband, on the other hand, wanted to hike it up and down Princess Street four times! I was too tired and confused to put up a fight until we had walked up and down that street so much my legs were starting to shake. We went to an open air market, bought some jams and honeys, went to another fav restaurant (Stooley's), and ate club sandwiches and onions rings and awesome awesome fries. I went poo in the Indigo bookstore along Princess, because I REALLY had to go. There is a gross story associated with going poo at Indigo. I won't go into detail here, but it involves not enough water in the bowl, and a medium-large pile of Greco's Stuffed Trout poo that sat on the dry part and was difficult to flush down, even after eight flushes. But I won't go into detail.

We left Kingston at around 1:00pm and headed towards Ottawa. Whoohoo Ottawa!! We got lost a couple times. Eric missed the exit. And it had nothing to do with my directions.

After meeting up with Rob the Halfie Environmentalist Accountant at his house, he took us to a BBQ at his parents place. Does this sound weird to you? Because it was kind of random. We were going to be staying with Rob for most of the weekend though, and we figured if he had family commitments, we don't mind tagging along. And hello, BBQ at a halfie house. Fun times! Rob neglected to mention that there would be a HUGE group of family there, complete with halfie babies running around everywhere. We met a lot of Rob's extended family. They're really funny and blunt and have funky attitudes. It was really quite fun, and really quite adorable. And really quite extra random.

On a somewhat related note, I have a new girlcrush: Rob's sister Kyla is awesome!! She's gorgeous and confident and incredibly nice. I really want her to think I'm cool. I hope she doesn't read this.

After the Halfie House Hijinx, we went back to Rob's house with Kyla and her man-friend. We watched Monty Python Holy Grail until most people were asleep. Then we retired to our rooms for slumber. ZzzzzZzzzzZzzzz.

Sex: Negative.

SATURDAY
This day was long, somewhat random, and almost neverending. I woke up and found Rob in the basement watching boring boring sports. I sat and pretended to watch it to be polite. I don't know why I bothered, I think I was groggy from having just woken up. My efforts paid off though, because after that, he made us breakfast. That man makes some wicked overeasy eggs with bacon. He should teach seminars!

What followed was a random stream of events involving food and alcohol. For example, Kyla came over, we made a lasagna, we made slushie girlie drinks with rum, Rob made way too many BBQ burgers, people came over, we had to learn their names, we ate burgers, we drank slushie drinks, we ate lasagna, we watched boring boring soccer, we ate sausages.

Then we went downtown! Fireworks were awesome. Thumbs up to the horny horny teenagers making out like animals in front of us. Thumbs down to the old assholes who thought it was cool to smoke stinky stinky cigars in a crowd.

Then it started raining...just a bit. We walked an annoying distance and found a decent bar. Drinky drinky zucchini sticksy. Rob ate sketchy nachos that would come back to hurt him later.

Then our cheerleader friends Shawna and Helen decided they wanted to go dance like whores. I also decided it would be fun to dance like whores. So we went outside to find a whore-dancing bar. It had started raining...a lot. We walked into a sketchy bar with whore-dancing. Dancing like whores ensued. It was one of those horrifyingly gross places where sweat condenses on the pipes above and drips back down all over your whore body as you whore-dance.

The truth was, as far as whore-dancing goes, this wasn't so whoreish. It was more just fun. I just really felt like using the word whore repeatedly. Whore.

By the time the whore-dancing was done, it was late and pouring rain outside. Let me emphasize - POURING RAIN. And NO CABS. Long story short, we stood outside for about an hour trying to get a cab, and then deciding to walk to City Hall instead, where Rob's brother picked us up, and we soaked up his car, and I almost peed myself from holding it in.

Back at Rob's, we made him make us hot dogs. Then those nachos acted up, and he had to go to bed, writhing in pain. After a quick clean of the kitchen, we also went to bed for slumber. ZzzzzZzzzzZzzzz

Sex: Negative.

SUNDAY
I was looking forward to this day ALL WEEKEND. It was RIB SMOKING DAY!! Rob and I had planned to try smoking ribs on his BBQ. I had found some apple wood chips, and had watched many episodes on FoodTV on how to smoke ribs.

This day consisted of rib preparation, lunch at a wood-burning oven pizza place (oh oh oh so good), rollerblading along the canal to the Parliament Buildings, and almost running over pedestrians. Eric alarmed everyone on the street with his loud and squeaky brakes. Ironically, he was the one least likely to run over people. I - of the flailing arms - and Rob - of the no brakes at all - were much more dangerous.

After the rollerblading adventure, we went back to the house to commence the smoking of the pork ribs. They were delicious, and I now consider myself to be a genius. A genius, I tell you. We wrapped up the night with a visit to Lindsay Hardy's place, which was every bit as cute as you could imagine Lindsay Hardy's place would be. Then back to Rob's place for slumber. ZzzzzZzzzzZzzzz.

Sex: Negative.

MONDAY
There are few people who love food as much as we do, with the same one-minded concentrated intensity. Lindsay Hardy is one of those people. We love eating food with Lindsay. We met up with her for lunch at Dunn's. This blog posting is getting quite long, or I would spend two paragraphs describing the hot fatty orgasmic sensation of the meat sandwiches we ordered. Meat sandwiches. I'm salivating in my cheeks just thinking about it. Meat sandwiches.

I'm a meat sandwich whore.

Oh god. That didn't sound right at all.

I don't even care. I'M A MEAT SANDWICH WHORE!!

We followed up the meat sandwich fest with beavertails and gelato. Oh god, I was so full.

Then Monday Part Two started, as we packed up all our gitch and went up to Rob's cottage for the night. A few of his other friends came too...guy friends. It was Sausagefest Plus Carol. Does this sound random to you? It kind of was. I drank more beer than normal, and I think the exposure to too much testosterone made me stupid.

In any case, when we got to the cottage, it was thunderstorming. We all ran inside the cottage, and Rob decided to go for a swim, and take out some boat motor while he was at it. We watched him go out in the gusting storm and get in the lake. He very impressively removed some boat motor and also brought in a canoe. Then, instead of going for a swim in the storm, he came back in looking scared but stupidly happy.

Rob: "Uhh...I think I got shocked by lightning while I was in the water!"

Then the guys all went swimming, and came back scratching.

Rob: "Oh, by the way. You can get an itch from this lake - I think it's the duck poo."

The guys made steak which Rob marinated with dirty hands, burned a loaf of garlic bread most of the way to charcoal, ate it anyway, then played videogames and drank beer. I kicked some ass in Dr. Mario, then passed out on the couch from too much beer and testosterone-induced stupidity. Then I retired to the bedroom for slumber. ZzzzZzzzzZzzzz.

Sex: Negative.

TUESDAY
Woke up, went to a pancake maple syrup place. Delicious pancakes. Eric ate about twice as much as everyone else without missing a beat. Rob managed to drop a cup full of coffee in such a way that it exploded all over the table. Went outside, looked for sheep. Guys went on a (children's) zipline. One skinned his knee rather badly, and Rob decided to hang upside down while going down the zipline, SLAMMED into the (not so) padded building at the end, and dropped to the ground like a sack of groaning potatoes.

Returned to cottage, guys went swimming again in the duck poo lake. Ate watermelon. Packed up. Rob found a litre of milk in the fridge and decided to drink it.

We left Rob's cottage in the mid-afternoon, and drove into Kingston. We had his friend Jay with us...he was moving in with his girlfriend that weekend in Toronto, and was really quite nervous about it. We stopped into Kingston, and went to Greco's for take-out, and to Bubba's for gross gross deep-fry. We got fries with gravy, onion rings, and a slice of sketchy sketchy pizza. We ate it in the car, and I bloated like a blimp. It was delicious. I was sexy.

We got home, and I complained about deepfry tummyache and being tired while wonderful Eric unpacked and took care of me. I showered, watched tv, and chatted with Gloria on the phone. I got into my awesome awesome Sealy Posturepedic pillowtop bed for slumber. ZzzzzzZZzzzzzZZzzzz.

Sex: You betcha!! As soon as we got home!!

I will end with a haiku.

What a long blog post
Five days means a lot to write
Working sucks duck poo