Sunburns and Stalkers

So I dropped my lil brother off at the airport this morning and now it’s back to work with me. We had a great time, eating ourselves sick, playing with dangerous animals and getting lots of sun and swimming in. Yesterday we went out on my friend’s boat. I am VERY careful about getting too much sun and it’s a matter of pride that I’ve lived here for more than a year and half and not gotten a bad sunburn. Sadly my streak is over.

Once we made it out to the swimming spot, the boat decided to conk out so while McGyver fixed it with an empty beer can (not kidding), we swam in the water and looked at the fish. I think we were in the water a long time and I must have sweated off my sunscreen …so my giant head was bobbing on the reflective surface of the bay and now it’s not only big but bright red as well. I am ready to led Santa’s sleigh on his xmas journey. And it hurts. I’ve been slathering aloe on my face since we got home last night. Still, a price cannot be put on learning how to bridge a fuse with a beer can, a move that will probably save my life when I’m captured by pirates off the coast of Africa.

We stopped for some pretty good chicken wings on the way home including some garlic parm wings that were quite delicious, if not a little dry. I’ve been sick as you know from my disgusting post about my snot-throat, so I’m feeling really run down and tired. I took a long nap today and am trying to feel normal again but the heat is intense and my face hurts so instead I’m having a weensey pity party for myself.

I have a crap pile of work to do so hopefully I can start fresh again tomorrow.

In other news, I applied for a real job today, not because I’m not thrilled to death to be freelancing and writing for a living but because the job was just so perfect for me that I couldn’t NOT apply. If they offer me enough money and the job, I would even move back to the US. That’s saying a lot, A LOT because I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s the terrifying reality that a creationist, book banning hillbilly could become your next president and your economy has imploded and the government wants to charge YOU, you personally, two thousand dollars to bail out rich finance executives who made some very risky and very shitty investments. If you aren’t furiously writing your congressman about that, you ought to be. Do you think any of those executives at Fanny Mae and Freddy Mac and AIG are taking pay cuts or not walking away with million dollar payouts? If you really want to get rid of that 2k per person (that’s for every adult over 18 in the United States) please send it to me and I’ll do something more worthwhile with it like wallpaper my bathroom or make little origami swans. Don’t let the media control you through fear… look how well that worked out for homeland security.

ANYWAY, I heard from the latest in my line of stalkers today. He is very cleverly trying to lure me back into a conversation with him by asking if I know of anyone he can contact for English lessons and to practice conversation skills. Nice try. This is a testament to the tenacity of Mexican stalkers. The last one, the Petter, he showed up at my retail store three months after the petting, creepifying text message incident. It’s been several weeks or a month or whatever since I met Mr. Homophobe Tattoo Hater for coffee and here he is emailing me. Tsk.

My goal for high season is to meet people with giant yachts and if they need to stalk me, so be it. But just once, I want to go on a multi-million dollar yacht and hopefully come back alive. Bonus points if there is paparazzi involved and I’m captioned as an “unidentified female guest.” Negative points if I end up in the Weekly World News.