The Facts of Life


Let’s be real. I have avoided a LOT of things this year. Mostly my personal life. Hell, any life.

I’ve been an ostrich. A horse with blinders. Ignoring things left and right.


It is March and I have not even put one thing in my brand new ice blue bullet journal for 2019. Nothing. Absolutely nothing in it. Entirely blank.


I have peaced out on ever using my closet again. FACT.

Instead, I now have a rolly cart of leggings and other shirts that won’t fit in any of my dresser drawers. Plus, that huge chair in the corner literally ladened with work clothes. Mostly winter wear for now. (Seriously, Texas, take your medication! I can’t take going from 29 one day to 80 three later. Make up your mind, homegirl!)


Pretty sure my two piercings in my upper ear are entirely closed up. I haven’t put in earrings in two months, if not more. I’m not even sure when I last wore earrings. FACT.

Speaking of the sparkly, I also haven’t worn any jewelry at all besides the 5 rings that never leave my fingers. Who has the effort? FACT.

And since we’re on the topic of effort, I have worn make up TWO days to work in the past 3 months. The day I was filmed for Region XIII and TEA, and my birthday. FACT.


I haven’t read a book since last July. FACT.

I have anxiety just thinking about my Kindle and all the books I could be reading. So I put on blinders. Ohhhh, whaaaat Kindle? FACT.

I have put off paying bills until the last possible minute lately. And I’m an “all paid on the 1st” person. FACT.

I am avoiding my office and desk. Some bills that I have to call and dispute. AGAIN. (My finger is on you, American Home Patient.) All of my bullet journal supplies, which have been lifeless in months. FACT.


I go to the store and don’t really shop for meals or packing lunches. I have a whole lotta random in my fridge and pantry. FACT.

Some nights I don’t want to do anything but crawl in bed. And I do, when in reality I should eat dinner or take a shower. FACT.

Most mornings I get ready from start to finish in just a few minutes. All you need is clothes, right? Brush here and there, and run out. FACT.


What was not a fact to me growing up is how complex being an adult actually is. I knew members in my family had struggles, usually big things. But every day, mundane struggles? Like this? No one prepared me for this. FACT. Did my mom struggle like this in silence? Did my dad? My grandparents?

Are these things so overwhelming because of my anxiety? No, I don’t have chronic pain. Not that I’m aware of, at least. But The Spoon Theory is something I highly relate to with my anxiety and depression. It’s the idea that you have a set number of “spoons” – or units of energy – for the entire day. Usually it is 20-25 spoons. Different activities and interactions use up your spoons and they are weighted differently. Higher level interactions use more spoons. As a teacher, I feel like I use way more spoons for my “work” than the list below. Just getting to work uses over 1/4 of the allotted spoons for the day. Actually making breakfast? That’s a whole other story. Is this idea the reason behind my feeling of failing at adulting?


What is something you have been putting off doing? I now have 4 rosebushes to plant, as well as re-doing my backyard fence, plus all the regular every week stuff.

Thirty is Purdy!

Y’all. Last week I turned 30.


THREE decades.

It’s crazy to me. But it was the best birthday I have had in the last 5 years.

I quit doing anything for my birthday several years ago after EVERY. SINGLE. INVITED. (and previously agreed) friend called me to tell me they were not coming to the fun thing we were going to do as I was headed to that place. What great friends. I don’t keep up with uhm, any of them anymore. One I work with and I see semi-regularly, but I keep my interactions work and student related.

I was honestly dreading my birthday this year because it was a big birthday, and I have had serious lame-O’s ruin it for me in the past.

My birthday feel on a staff development day, and my principal started the day with everyone singing happy birthday. That was nice, and feel-good things are always a great way to start staff days because we’d rather be in our rooms planning. The last day we had with kids, the day before my birthday, my team spread the word and kids were wishing me happy birthday all day. My afternoon classes sang. I wore my Tiny Tot crown from when I was little since someone stole my French Fry crown last summer out of my classroom. I went out for lunch and came back and someone (ahem, my mentee new baby teacher this year) had brought cupcakes and it just made me feel good.

On my birthday, I spent the day with my (work) partner K going to the things we had to go to in the morning and afternoon. Halfway through the day, K invited everyone she knew to come get drinks with us after work. Of course, being National Margarita Day AND my birthday…

While I’m older and the realities of age are setting in, especially the creaks of the bones and joints, I felt really good about my birthday this year. My baby brother thinks I’m 54 and older than the hills, but even my brothers all chimed in on the birthday train.

I also have a goal this year that I have sucked so far at, but I will be changing:

This year, I want to lose 30 pounds – and keep it off.

I lost 15 pounds and 15 inches at the end of the school year last year thru the middle of April and May. Then I moved and my routines and eating habits went to poop. But I am going to get back on the keto train in March. I want to feel even better about myself and my body.


What was your best birthday? Your most feel-good one? 

Sleepy vs. Tired: An Endless Saga


Sleepy vs. Tired: An Endless Saga

I know back in December I’d be back around. And I totally haven’t. By the time the Friday rolls around, I am so done. By the time Friday rolls around, I am so done. All weekend I am a vegetable. I don’t want to do a damn thing.

I have been running ragged this whole school year, and I’m coming to the point where I have to make some difficult decisions about what I will and will not do next school year. I have been at school so late every night 99.95% of the year, all of the other adult things you have to do in life and keeping up your house has fallen by the wayside. I’ve taken care of a few tasks off of my “house list,” but I’m adding more tasks at a faster rate than I’m completing any. My kitchen table is overflowing with supplies and parts of projects I need to do.

At this point, I’m in a perpetual cycle of sleepy and tired. Or sleepy or tired. Or sleepy vs. tired. It’s all the same at this point in the saga that seems never-ending.

So what is the difference?

In the mornings, I don’t want to get out of bed. At all. I keep hitting that snooze until I am going to be late for work, which didn’t start until November, so that is one good thing to say about this year. But I am so exhausted in the mornings. I’m tired. Once I get in gear and I’m at work, I’m OK.

For about 2 hours. And then I get the droopy eyes and can barely keep them open. I just want to lay my head down. It’s the post-lunch nappy zone but at 9:45 in the morning! My whole morning is a slump and it sets the tone for the rest of the day.

This is how I felt before I got my CPAP. Like a zombie. And now I feel like this again. My sleep patterns can be whacky, but I’m sleeping thru the night more nights lately than I have most of the school year. This doesn’t add up for me.

Sleepy is one thing. We are all sleepy some mornings. But it’s like my sleepiness never goes away, and then at some point in the mid-morning it morphs into just tiredness. I think now I’m just perpetually tired. I definitely feel like these guys:

Do you have any tips or tricks that might help me out with the zombie life?

Season’s Greetings!

New number. Who dis?

Right? LOL. 

I have had *the* most stressful semester of my life. I was supposed to return from my hiatus this fall. I came back for a few weeks, and then fell off the face of the planet. Since you last really heard from me…

  • My district implemented an actual curriculum for advanced classes
  • We still did not have books until mid-October.
  • Our copies were limited to 10,000. 
  • Then they were “Indian given” down to 2,000. FOR THE YEAR, not semester. 
  • One of the math teachers totally went MIA. The kids think she died. 
  • Then the district decided the scope and sequence for on-level classes was going to move from TRS to the new curriculum…which ruins all of the district tests that have been painstakingly written. 
  • My partner and I were bullied into this huge project that we were lied to about.
  • We have been working on a semester-long set of lessons for the state of Texas. We will be filmed December 19th. (At this point, IDGAF anymore.)
  • I drove to Missouri to see my baby brother graduate basic. And raced time trying to catch up to military buses before they reached Texas. (My mom said for 2 hours it wouldn’t happen. It did, people.) 
  • My oldest brother contracted a potentially fatal infection in Africa. He has since been returned to the states, but treatment is highly questionable. 
  • My oldest and youngest brothers are both stationed on the same base within a 2-hour drive.
  • My almost SIL had a tonic-clonic seizure at my house. Exactly one week before…
  • My middle brother got married. #drama
  • I have done a lot of work on the cottage. More is still to come. 
  • I have officially been diagnosed with diabetes and on meds. 
  • I am also back in the pre-cancerous watch zone I was for 6 of the past 8 years. 
  • I have been stressing about getting this yearbook finished by the January deadline. No support to do what we need. We still don’t even have our student portraits. Ridiculousness. 
  • My mother’s job at a small school district fired her for going to my great-uncle’s funeral. They still have not sent her final check…three months later. #lawsuitmuch
  • I stopped reading. Entirely. Haven’t touched my Kindle since August. Just thinking about that gives me major anxiety. 
  • I feel way too micro-managed as a teacher. 
  • My principal used me as a guinea pig without telling me for his Harvard cohort. 
  • My observation this year was stellar. My AP told me I needed to be proud of myself. 
  • I found out my crazy call-the-cops-on-the-cop ex tried switching shifts to avoid being put on the spot and called out by certain individuals he has to work with…and the sergeant denied it with a huge hell no. KARMA. I felt so validated when I received that message. 
  • I have a foster fail dog turned MINE! We made it legit official on December 5th, microchip and all. He loves Baby and she loves him when she’s not being all Eeyore. His name is debatable. Call him any Mexican food you want…also answers to Chico and Little Puppy. 
  • My hair is finally growing out. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to get the extensions in December. Nearly a year after the first appointment! 

I’m Back…I Think?

I’m not jumping back in as fast-paced and full-speed as I was before. I think I’m going to take a page out of a few friends’ books and just post whenever. No set schedule. No making it any “work” like thing.  

But I do want to be back. I don’t think I can handle looking at my blog email…like, ever. So cutting that out might be a good thing for me to stay back and not stress.  Not gonna lie, some days I feel like taking 2 anxiety pills in the morning before I leave. 

Good Things Come in Threes, Too

Good Things Come in Threes, Too


Ever heard the phrase, things come or go in threes? The concept of things in groups of threes catches our attention. In literature, it’s called the Rule of Three.

The Three Wise Men.

The Three Muskateers.

The Three Little Pigs with three houses.

Aladdin and his three wishes.


You get the picture. But outside of relating to literature or fables, how have you heard the rule of three?

People die in threes.

Catastrophes happen in threes.


I’ve only every heard the phrase “They come in threes” in negative ways: people die in threes, situations happen in threes. That’s it.


What about good things happening in threes? I have never heard anyone say that until recently in a Sunday Post. Do you believe in this? That good things also happen in threes? It is hard to riddle out, as my brain has been wired to only pick out threes in negative.


Recently I wrote a post for the weekly meme My Favorite… and it was about the best thing that had happened to me so far in 2018. My answer? The Man breaking up with me back in March, which was a good thing. He was lying and cheating, so it’s good to go and get on with life than be living your life in web of deceit and untruths.

Since then, good things have happened to me. Lots of good things, but some that tie directly to the break up.

  1. I found and moved into a better housing situation where I have plenty of space and live alone again.
  2. My hair is starting to really thicken. It’s also growing, but it is not as noticeable as the thickness.
  3. I am infinitely closer to work, saving time and money.

You can go read the original post with about 30 or so different things I listed out as a result of the split – positive things for me!

Can you think of any good things that have happened in your life in threes? 

More Than Just A Bad Hair Day

More Than Just A Bad Hair Day

Like with my self care post earlier this month (in which I referenced what would be this post), I have also been denying something else for almost an entire year.

Last year when I was interviewing for elementary jobs, I went in and got all my hair chopped off. It was two-fold: I donated 16 inches (again!) and I also needed “elementary teacher hair.” Typically, this is short hair. [Because lice, y’all.] I didn’t realize how short the stylist cut my hair until days later. It was also uneven!! Not like anything could be fixed, but this was when everything started.

Y’all, my hair is shorter now over a year later than when I got that haircut. I can’t tell you how many times I heard from coworkers this past year about my new short hair or hair cut. I got my hair cut on June 13, 2017! I hadn’t gotten it cut!

What they saw was what I was trying to cover up.

With the impeding school year approaching and the mounting fear that I would have to return to my school and not get one of the jobs I interviewed for and not be with The Man (that Dick!)…I began pulling my hair.

It wasn’t a big deal at first. Until September rolled around and I had a bald spot on the crown of my head. I could not wear my hair down. But I continued pulling. Not as bad, because hair grew in and the bald spot was no more. But in the process of waiting and as the year went on, my hair was all janky, so I took the well-meant advice of my school secretary and trimmed it up myself.


I ruined it. l definitely could NOT wear my hair down now. So I wore my pitiful patch of hair up in a teeeeeny pony tail all year as another bald spot near my right temple began to show scalp.

My two closest coworkers zeroed in. My mom slowly caught on. Even my youngest brother noticed. My mom’s friend/my health coach noticed even though she hadn’t seen me in months, maybe a year or more.

I refused to acknowledge that there was anything to this. I just kept saying it was like a compulsory behavior when I would get stressed (reality with my diagnosis of anxiety and depression: overwhelmed).

Except I was trying to lie to myself, knowing full well I had seen someone talk about trichotillomania on social media before. Hair pulling, not hair eating. That is exactly what I had. Exactly what I was doing. Exactly what I was ignoring. What I was hiding and pretending was not a big deal. Trichotillomania is a body-focused repetitive behavior classified as an impulse control disorder which involves pulling out one’s hair. Hello, girlfriend.

When The Man and I split in March, I immediately started looking into stylists for hair extensions. Easy fix! No one will ever know because it will all grow out while looking great, was my thought process. UH. NO. My hair was so short, extensions were a no-go. I had to wait 8-10 weeks to check again. In the meantime, I started on a fancy hair shampoo and conditioner to help. My May visit came…and still a no-go. But there was growth, not like I could tell. Another 8-10 weeks and I should be ready to go.

Except…no. I kept pulling until I essentially was almost shaved on the right side of my head. Like short, stubby scrubs on the ground. I couldn’t even hardly put up my hair anymore because it wouldn’t stay in the ponytail. I had to use so many barrettes and bobby pins it looked ridiculous, and still the hair would slide out and pouf up, making me look some kind of scary diabolical. Do not even get me started on when I wake up in the morning. It first was like a finger in the light socket, but as it grew and thickened, it was straight up Chewbacca in the light socket.

Fast forward to July. I thought by now my hair was thick enough we would be ready to go. It is really thick, I just didn’t think it was growing out. My stylist said it was, she could tell, but she was crestfallen at what she saw. Y’all. She almost cried. And she talked about her own fight with bulimia when she was in her 20s and urged me to see someone, and if not that, to at least riddle out what my triggers are.

Except…I don’t know what they are. Honestly, I don’t even think I have any anymore. The initial catalyst was the idea of returning back to my school. Yes, I’m still there, but things regarding the circumstances have changed:

  1. That principal is gone. The new one is leaps and bounds supportive and despite his hard poker face, he is very personable and supportive. I know it bothers him a lot when there is something going on with one of his employees.
  2. I am no longer with The Man and driving back and forth, back and forth every weekend with all the stress and anxiety tied to all of that.
  3. I no longer live where I did, renting a single room. I have my own space and nothing is crammed.
  4. I now have a lab for my yearbook staff. We do not have to do everything 100% after school in the evenings to get the entire yearbook done in increments of one meeting each week. I can now actually teach my class as it should be during the actual class time during the school day, every day. (I know, don’t even get me started on that mess.)



There are some specific symptoms, and I don’t have all of them. I have tried to stop, and even when I try…I can’t. Like I said, it is like an obsession. And that’s also why I said I don’t have any triggers anymore because I do it almost all the time now: driving, sitting at work during my planning time working on stuff, at home watching TV or reading or on my phone, while I’m talking to people face-to-face (my mom and two favorite coworkers). I definitely feel embarrassed and ashamed and it is out of control, so I don’t want to go anywhere I strictly don’t have to. And I want to wear a hat ALL the time, no matter where I go. While I was diagnosed in December with anxiety and depression, I believe I have had those for years and was never diagnosed because I gave no signs to my doctors and I didn’t seek out information about it until December, and I went for other reasons. I knew I had anxiety and I wanted to be medicated and it was unrelated to the hair pulling. When I do pull, I definitely have a behavior: first, it is the hairs that don’t feel right texture-wise. The coarse ones that stand out or have some other anomaly. Then, it is the ones that are too long in that section. Stupid, I know. Trich is like the cousin of OCD, but I don’t have any OCD behaviors like counting or washing hands.

  • Recurrent pulling out of one’s hair resulting in noticeable hair loss
  • An increasing sense of tension immediately before pulling out the hair or when resisting the behavior
  • Pleasure, gratification, or relief when pulling out the hair
  • The disturbance is not accounted for by another mental disorder and is not due to a general medical condition (i.e., dermatological condition)
  • Repeated attempts have been made to decrease or stop hair pulling
  • The disturbance causes significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning. Distress may include feeling a loss of control, embarrassment, or shame and impairment may occur due to avoidance of work, school, or other public situations.
  • Hair pulling may be accompanied by a range of behaviors or rituals involving hair. For example, individuals may search for a particular kind of hair to pull or they may try to pull out hair in a specific way.

The other thing about distress in other areas of functioning is intimate relationships. People with trich can avoid intimate relationships for fear of having their secret, which is very shameful to me, exposed. This is true for me. So true. I went on a few dates until the one I liked acted like he died back at the beginning of May. Since then, I have talked to guys and wanted to go do something fun but at the same time I don’t. What happens when my tiny ponytail falls down and the barrettes and bobby pins start hanging by threads? I can’t wear my cap everywhere with every type of attire.

I am facing the fact that I have trich. I have it. I can’t lie. I can’t hide it. I can’t pretend it’s not happening. I was just lying to myself for almost a year. I still want to get the extensions, so here’s to hoping for September! In the meantime, I have bought a silk cap to wear to bed so my hair isn’t as insane in the mornings, especially with wearing my CPAP, and I also realized I can wear it around the house during the day too. It keeps me from pulling, so who cares? No one’s here anyway.

I am also looking into buying a special bracelet to wear that tracks your movements for the behavior – so behavior therapy, which is the recommendation besides medication. I predominately pull with my right hand (and I have figured out it is because I have more muscle on my right arm and better motor control in my hands than my left side). Originally I thought of getting a band for each hand, but they sell separately and are quite pricey. Since my right is the source, I’m only going to get one band. I hope and pray that it works and helps me.

It is more than just a bad hair day. But what do I say when coworkers give me the questioning looks or a gentle inquiring comment without giving away too much personal information?

WOW Moments Trying to Date Again

Since the break-up, I have tried dating. Tried being the operative word, here. I’m now convinced we live in a one-date culture today, but that’s another story. Today is all about stupid crazy shit these guys have said to me that are just HARD eye-roll moments.

So…you were going to either bail last minute or stand me up entirely? On a date YOU asked for? That’s been planned for 8 days? Mmmm. No, boy. I think I gotta wash my hair…


I love my friend Joyce. “I’d read that blog.” Well, y’all, I made it happen. Don’t even get me started on this crap. The lies or the blaming Christianity thing. No, honeyboo, that means you’re a Baptist. Let’s move on…


Dudebro doesn’t even know WTF he is. Too bad, he seemed cool. Obviously…not. But don’t call him a player. He’s not a player.


Y’all. This one had SO much potential. And then he no-showed…twice. So, player, but initially great conversations. Too bad. His New York balls and loud mouth were about to get him an “aight, bet” in a “abort, abort, fatal death mortality ahead” kind of way down here in Texas. Also, you gotta feed this unbiological Mexican girl the food of her country, dumbass. (Y’all, I have said this since I was in like 7th grade – my Mexican uncle will claim me, so don’t be hating.)


This just got me all fired up and roasty. Apparently someone got some chestnuts over an open fire. And yes, I did read this to my classes that day. You don’t get to be a misogynistic asshole. I have endured too much of that crap and I won’t stand for it anymore. I might also be getting feisty like an old folk in my “old” age, but IDGAF. Come at me, bro!

Self Care Isn’t a Want

Self Care Isn’t a Want

At the beginning of the year I said this was the Year of Me. That I was going to tell people NO (teacher translate: Get the fuck away from me; I’m not doing it.) That I was going to be selfish and do things just for me and take time just for me.

Well, we are eight months in and just yesterday I realized something about me. Something I’ve been doing with this whole self care life – and it all hit me with a visit to my chiropractor.

The last day of July I hauled out case after case full of old yearbooks (prior to my time as advisor) that never sold. Boxes that went back to 2007. And there were 2 cases for almost every academic year. I also completely unpacked my classroom, pulling down boxes and boxes of books that my mother put onto my bookcases. I made a few new changes to furniture arrangement – all of which had to be moved as the janitors just shove everything back in wherever. By the end of the night, as the big jobs started winding down to the smaller details of unpacking my desk and cabinet and setting up and rearranging and organizing, my left hip began hurting pretty bad. As the night went on and I left and went to the grocery store, I was literally hobbling. Using the cart as a support. The pain was excruciating.

This isn’t just a one-time thing, like throwing your back out or a sudden injury. I have permanent back damage. When I first started teaching 6 years ago, I was barely making it through my days at school. I called my chiro’s office one day during my conference in tears the pain was so bad. I have a scoliatic curve that was never diagnosed in all of those school health screenings. My spinal column also is not straight. It is twisted, like a helix. Like DNA. Additionally, where the spinal column meets the base of the skull, mine is not rounded as it should be for that natural curved connection. It is 100% straight. In my consultation I had circled EVERY single part of the spinal column as places I had pain. I joked to my chiro that I had circled them in groups for what hurt in the different areas.

I explained that I had back pain ever since I hit puberty, and my mother dismissed it as just soreness from being an athletic kid in sports. I was forewarned that it might be permanent…and about half of of it is. In my X-ray below, the black line is where the center of the spine should be. The red curve to the left is where it actually was.

My X-ray

I did 4 months of intense PT, adjustments, exercises and I DID change my spine as much as it was possible. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t fun. It is actually painful in the beginning because you are forcing your spine to change. It doesn’t like that one bit! However, this is proof that chiropractors are NOT quacks and that chiropractic care is real health care. Just look at my after x-ray.

Before & After

I set my Temperpedic to the most intense settings as I went to sleep. I repeated that when I woke up. I got dressed and did something with this awful hair of mine. (That’s an entirely different story – and one I AM self-caring for.) I made the conscious decision I needed to ditch my purse. I know it had to weigh somewhere close to ten pounds. I had already decided on this move – I HATED carrying it. I downgraded to a messenger purse so I could wear it across my body and not have it in the way or dragging down one arm. I did a thorough cleaning out and ditched my old granny wallet that I loved but was just holding so much I didn’t need to carry with me and I set off for the chiro office.

I always have trouble with my thoracic. When it starts locking up, I can’t move. I literally can’t move but mere centimeters. Forget using your arms or torso in any way, and I might be petrified that way for life if I bend. Even with adjustments, the thoracic is a grudge-holding ass and won’t cooperate. It has always taken multiple visits close together to get it unlocked. But August 1st was a day to be reckoned with. It was THE best adjustment I have ever had. Everything cooperated well as it should, which is rare in a solitary visit. I felt immediate and overwhelming relief.

As I left the office and drove to lunch, I realized something about my own self care practices. I was only doing self care based on MY own wants. Just like The Spoon Theory below, I use A LOT of spoons every day. Being a teacher, I use more spoons than are on that chart altogether. It is a highly stressful, impossible, thankless job. (Impossible in the sense of unrealistic expectations.) When I come home, I am already so negative in spoons that by the weekend, getting dressed and brushing my teeth is a struggle sometimes, let alone anything else.

Being spoon deficient, I do things slowly and one at a time. It might also be why I never feel I am making progress these days, but I have to live with that. But part of that is what I’m talking about. I only do self care on my own terms – what I want. Not what I need. I actually am ignoring my real needs, like consistent chiropractic visits. Instead of going monthly as I should just for maintenance, I go only when I am in pain. Well, girlfriend, you don’t feel back pain until you’ve already gone through 80% of it. Y’all. Eighty. EIGHT. ZERO. Percent. When you feel back pain, you are in the upper 20%.

I was hit and had a hard realization about myself and what I am pretending is self care. It is not on your terms. It is not wants. It is NEEDS. Yes, my monthly visit to the nail salon is both – I literally need a knowledgeable professional to take care of my ingrown toenails or else it becomes painful and I might one day obliterate my toes. I also look pretty, which raises my confidence. I get my want and my need is met. So why could I not see that in other areas of my life with self care?

I can’t keep sugar coating it for myself.

The other part of this is indulgence. Self care is not indulging yourself, which I have been doing all summer. I was on a good track in April and May. Then when life change happened, I got off and refused to get back on. I don’t know why. But I kept self-indulging all summer pretending that my treating myself was self care. It’s not. I wasn’t doing myself any favors. It wasn’t just a want. It was far beyond down the scale to outright indulgence.

I have to do better. We have to do better in taking care of ourselves. There has to be something left over from our cup to pour into ourselves.

Discussion: Things I Learned on My First Cruise

Things I Learned on My First Cruise

Just like anything new you try, going on a cruise for the first time can bring learning experiences. Most of you know I went on a cruise to Cozumel at the beginning of the month. While it was my first time out of the country and I had such high hopes and expectations and excitement, the learning curve brought me down off my high. So, here’s my hard row to hoe that I am imparting to you…

  1. Pack an extension cord. There are no outlets ANYWHERE. Except right there for the TV. So if you have special needs, like a CPAP or more than one electronic and you don’t bring an extension cord, you’re going to have to pull out that TV from its cubby and pull all the cords through the hole to find the small extension cord for three and plug your shit in and have it dangling all over the room dangerously waiting to trip some unsuspecting person just wanting to friggin’ walk to the bathroom. So, pack an extension cord.
  2. Rest up beforehand. Do not stay up the night before packing and panicking. Do not let your sleep schedule get jacked up prior to your trip. Get yourself on a 9-6 schedule so you won’t be tired all the time on your cruise. That’s the worst. Because when you go back to your stateroom to take a nap after dinner and you fully intend to go to the comedy club at 11:30 and set an alarm at 9:30 to be back up and fresh, you WILL NOT be crawling back out of that bed until after 8:00 am. Kiss the comedy club, the marriage game, and any other fun night thing goodbye. Save yourself the heartache and regret by being fully rested when you walk on that boat. Ship!
  3. Don’t buy the internet package, which most likely will be a myriad of social media apps. Don’t waste your money, whatever the cost. Just don’t. Save it and go buy yourself a couple drinks. Because that shit will not work. Just take your photos and videos and share them all after getting back home. Which is like, the entire opposite point of living in the moment and everyone not vacationing living vicariously through you. Whatever, technology, I never liked you anyway.
  4. Wear your swimsuit onto the boat. You can’t go to your room half the first day anyway, so get your ass up to those pool decks. Get yourself out in that sun or you’ll be white AF when you come back. How can you say you even went on a cruise? Do you even lift, bro? Like, how do I *know* you went to Cozumel? Pictures lie. That could be anywhere. Photoshop is incredible these days. You still as white as when you left. Don’t come back home white as Wite-Out. Get some sun. Just do it!
  5. Do not buy the pictures from the cruise’s photography set up. They are not going to go on sale on the final morning of the cruise. Thanks, Susan! That was $200! Total rip off. Discreetly take pictures of YOUR pictures. They have to have your consent to photograph you anyway. It is YOUR face and YOUR identity. And they don’t do anything to you anyway except say over and over “No pictures. Copyright.” And then your friend starts freaking on you because they’ve said it 3 times and makes you bail. Sheesh.
  6. Don’t spend a lot of money on the ship. Take your money ashore. Bring a shit ton of money, or on your card or whatever. You can buy fabulous jewelry CHEAP!! They will bring the price down again and again to just make a sale. I also learned you should haggle with any of the little shops selling trinkets and souvenirs. Susan paid $25 for the same bag my brother got for $15, which was originally $40.

I have obviously thought I was hilarious this month, just saying. Stay tuned for more funny eyeroll shit coming soon!