Maybe This Will Explain Things A Little

In case you missed it, I am leaving in nine days for The Trip. This is a Girls Trip. I am going with my mommy and my favorite cousin. Sounds lame but you don't know my mom. I have been going to Nazi Personal Trainer. I have tried to religiously Fake-n-Bake so I won't burn my delicate little freckled skin. I have shopped up a storm for cute clothes. I have handled things at work so everyone is taken care of and Jesus Freak Boss doesn't have a stroke. Let me tell you what my mommy has done to get ready.

Mom calls me 14 times a day to remind me to bring my passport. She calls me to call "Sarah" and remind her to bring her passport. She calls to tell me not to forget sunscreen because I might burn and they don't sell the brand I like in PR. She calls to tell me not to color my hair before I go because it's a waste of money. She calls to ask if I went to the doctor to get the tranquilizers so I can get on the sea plane. (I don't fly well. I called her after I saw Open Water and told her the sea plane was going to crash and I would be eaten by sharks. She said, "Why would the sharks eat you when they can have my fat ass?") She calls to remind me not to wax and Fake-n-Bake on the same day or the noonie will burn. She calls to remind me to bring flip flops. (Fuck Mom, we are going to the beach. I think I know to bring fucking flip flops.) She calls to tell me not to overpack. I tell her I'm packing the swimsuit in my purse and bringing nothing else. She calls just to say "It's 9 days"! She has done this every day for the last 5 days.

Today she called to ask what size shoe I wear. I tell her and then ask why she needs to know. She says, "I'm buying us all matching hats, flip flops, beach bags, and beach towels". I say, "You are a fucking freak". She says, "No, that way when I get drunk and separated from y'all, I can just look for the other chicas dressed like fucking tourists". I love my mom.