As winter in Northern Nevada gasps its final breaths and hacks out one more round of snowflakes, we’ll be driving to the L.A. area after school tomorrow to get on a boat. My in-laws are treating their kids and grandkids to a cruise in Mexico. Our first big vacation in years! So last night I mentioned that I needed to get Lia a pair of swimming trunks. My husband tried to correct me with “Swimming suit?” No, I really meant swim trunks. As in, men’s swimming suits. I already have a pair, blue and white with those big ol’ Hawaiian flowers. They cover my thighs. They also have pockets! I remember last year when I bought them, my husband thought I’d lost my mind.
So Lia and I don’t like showing that much skin–what’s wrong with that? Neither of us really like the look of so-called “modest” swimming suits today. Tankinis don’t always cover the stomach, which would be disastrous for the eyeballs of anyone looking in my direction. I do like the cute boy-cut shorts that you can put on over your swimming suit, but no way am I showing off my thighs this season. And those pathetic built-in bras do nothing for the well endowed! Last year I wore a sports bra under a tank top with my men’s swimming trunks, and didn’t feel self-conscious for the first time in years. I’m sure my hubby would rather see me in a more feminine swimming suit, but too bad, honey. Maybe next year, if I can get a regular workout routine going.
My original plans were just to scrap swimming altogether and hang out on the deck, concealing my flab underneath skirts as I always do. Then I found out there are two waterslides on the ship. Forget being a landlubber! I might even ride the jetskis in Cabo, broseph. (To get that joke, look up “Take it to the Next Level” by BalloonShop on Youtube.)
In bloggy and writing news, check out the nifty new little things I’ve added to the right side of my blog. I’ve listed the blogs of my best writing buddies, so check them out too. I’m about 3/4 finished with Blood Moon and writing like a crazy person, very excited about wrapping up the story even though the dreaded romance scene is coming up (unless I decide to save it for the next book). And the six-week mark of my full submission to a great New York City agency is fast approaching, so I’m hoping for an acceptance letter from the agent any day now! I suppose I could live with a rejection too, because then at least the wait will be over, and I can have rejection chocolate.
And that’s it for now. This pirate will post again when she’s back from pillaging the Mexican Riviera.