It's really easy to accidentally fall into the trap of "what will so and so think if I write this or that", I fall fast into it, all the time, mainly because my ego is the size of Texas, and I am a people pleaser, talk about a perfect storm for writers block, and add in a toddler? well, I've got every excuse in the world not to write now don't I?
Well, I can only let me stop me for so long, before you know it, I have to be real, and being real for me is writing.
My journey, my fucking story, my fucking reality. Deal.
This island has me mystified all the time. When I talk about weird, I mean random cars lit on fire all over this island. I am talking about women with full on Robin Williams chest hair, worn proud, "celebrated" by deep V's, and accentuated with 24 karat gold trinkets nestled deep in the pubic glory.
I'm talking cocked eyes and pretentiousness wrapped in the same packages, with long toenails worn with unmatched shoes, and snubs and eye rolling, and an undercurrent of hatred that goes deeply back before I was born, and will stretch maybe past the years of my life, but that doesn't stop me from looking right into a set of eyes with fresh eyes, and it never will.
There has been a new garbage dump worker the last few times I've been. Hard working man, just waiting to serve, whether you need help or not, dollar appreciated, clothing optional. "Momma, he needs to put his clothes on" Scarlett says so matter of factly, she's not tainted with what is "appropriate", she is just as matter of fact as possible.
He's pretty jittery, drugs, but he tries not to scare you as he opens your car without asking. I've taken to carrying some "TRASH CASH" to keep him well paid for his service. I appreciate his willingness to work, this man wouldn't take a handout, nope, he's a proud fella, naked and all.
My parents just left today, they are so amazing. I miss them the minute that we drive away. Next visitor, my Papa Bill, November!
Scar turned three. GULP. Yes, I cannot believe it. Her party was fabulous, we had it at Yacht Haven Grande, I know, I know, BIG SURPRISE. Her favorite place on earth. The party was fantastic, and her favorite restaurant, THE FAT TURTLE, did a great job servicing it, up to and including hiding all the treasure hunt stuff, and decorating it in FROZEN themed decorations.
The best thing they did was listen to the soundtrack for 4 hours, I mean, they really love this kid, obviously. Our friends here are still the best part of this island, and really, the only thing we didn't know that we'd love when we got here.
We went to The British Virgin Islands on a boat tour last week. They are beautiful, there is something so different about them, they are less touched than St Thomas, less manicured than St John, and they have a different feel, a different smell even.
We toured the Baths, which I hadn't been to in 15 years, and never sober. They are huge rocks, like building sized rocks, that you climb though, and they are stunning. In my opinion should be a wonder of the world, not that you can really take my opinion seriously, I think Goat Cheese should be a religion, my home, a temple, and if the Catholic churches don't pay taxes, neither should I.
But they are fantastic, no matter what I think, they sure make you realize just how small you are and how short your time is here, if looking out at the ocean hasn't already made you feel like a blink.
We then went to a darling private island restaurant that served us a lovely lunch. The most beautiful views. I was walking out and heard the worker/owner say "CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MUCH FUCKING WATER THEY'RE USING", before I moved here I would have been completely offended, but after living here, I get it.
It is a major pain in the ass to have water delivered to us at the bottom of the mountain on St Thomas, I cannot imagine what it must be like on a private island. The other worker looked up at me mortified, clearly a "yelp-able" moment, but I just looked kindly at her, "I live here, I get it", she looked back, relieved. Water in the states is so taken for granted.
It made me secretly proud to not be one of those "wasting- gluttonous- pig -Americans" for once, but lets be really realistic, I've got a long way to go, and I believe that willingness may be a pretty big issue in my recovery.
"We" then snorkeled, by "we" I mean "everyone else", which as a person living in the Virgin Islands I really need to get interested in, I am not a snorkeler, I never really have been, I know in my heart that I don't belong in there, but I do feel like I am missing out on a huge part of our Virgin Islands experience. My neighbor Kris has convinced me to take a day with her, she is sure I will fall head over heels in love. I'll let you know how my blind date goes with the ocean.
We ended our tour at the ever famous SOGGY DOLLAR, a bar and restaurant that you can only get to by swimming in from your vessel. I was there in my early twenties drunker than 4 divorced Irishmen of course, and let us just say, this was a much lamer visit, sober, with my three year old, husband, and parents.
Note, when Stef comes back, we will be going there, minus anything that came from our uterus, or the uterus from which we came.
I go home in ten days for one of my best friends weddings, that is one of the hardest parts, I haven't been able to be a part of this joyous time with her, so I am excited to be a part of her wedding! I'm homesick for my sisters and friends, and Starbucks, and shopping, and Trader Joe's. I hope I can drive on the right-side of the road again, it's gotta be like riding a bike eh? I hope no one thinks I am weird when I walk in and ask a business for something and they just say "sure" and I start crying, no, no, that's not weird. Is a high five too much?
Four months and loving it still.
