I'm Sailing Away

What the boat looks like in my head

Alright friends, the excitement in our house is building because we leave for a house boat trip in T minus four days. (I have to note that when I say the excitement is building,I mean for me. Joel rarely gets excited about much. We were once on an airplane flying to Costa Rica for an 11 day trip, and I was so excited I'd already peed four times and my face hurt from smiling. When I turned to him and squealed, 'aren't you excited?!?' he replied, 'sure, babe.' That's it. Sure, babe.)

So in a few days, we leave for our house boat trip with several other couples, and I'm both nervous and excited about it. Nervous? You might ask. Let me explain.

What the boat really looks like

First, I'm nervous about my tolerance. I know that you all think I'm this young whipper snapper who can hang with the best of them, but you'd be wrong about that. You see, my alcohol tolerance has declined drastically in the last few years. In and right after college, I had quite the impressive ability to drink whatever I wanted whenever I wanted and still appear to be somewhat normal. You can google this condition, I think it's called alcoholism. But now I underestimate how much I can drink and still be normal. Let me break it down for you.

If I have more than three drinks, I will most certainly wake up the next day thinking, 'did I honestly say that last night???' and have to avoid one or more of the people I embarrassed myself in front of for the next few days. If I have more than four drinks, I will likely dance inappropriately--music or no--and demand some sort of greasy food before bed. (I will, I warn you, talk about this desired food until I annoy someone into getting it for me.  Ask any of my friends.) And any more than that, and I will absolutely puke. (Joel got to witness this about a month ago. Honeymoon=long over.) I also am a hangover expert because I almost always have them. So you can imagine how thinking about a house boat trip with people younger than myself might make me terrified that on the very first night, I'll have a few too many, say something ridiculous, booty dance with myself, and vomit everywhere making everyone regret inviting me in the first place. The only good thing that can happen at that point would be if I stumbled overboard. At least I wouldn't have to look those people in the face the next morning.

What I think I look like when I'm dancing

What I actually look like

Casi, post-sunburn

I'm also a little nervous about motion sickness. (For the record, if this does happen, motion sickness will be the excuse I have for barfing on, off, or around the boat.) The only other time I've been on a moving vessel for a prolonged amount of time was a day-long dolphin siting trip my family took when I was in middle school. My mom, as a preventive measure, fed us all Dramamine for breakfast that day, and we boarded the ship. I had--and still have--an unusually low tolerance for medicines and proceeded to lay down for a minute in my grandfather's lap until I felt better. The next thing I know, they were waking me up to get off the boat. I'd slept through the whole trip, and my sweet grandfather had missed all the action, because I was drooling all over him the entire time. So, honestly, I don't even know if I get motion sickness because my mom roofied me the one and only time I had the chance to find out. 

I'm terrified of getting sun burnt as well. When most people will be carrying on cases of beer, I'll be carrying on cases of sunscreen. And reapplying every five minutes just to make sure. I am the whitest white girl alive; I make Lindsay Lohan look like a native American--don't let my fake tan fool you--I'm part albino and have been known to burn going from the car to the house. And there's nothing more miserable than being sun burnt on a trip. Except, maybe, for being the girl who won't stop puking. 

Now, aside from being a little nervous about my tolerance, my paleness, and my feared motion sickness, I'm utterly and completely excited about the trip. I can't wait to spend time with good friends away from work (the bat phone stays home!), near the water, and miles away from anything I can worry about. And at least if I throw up and act inappropriately or have vertigo the whole time, I'll have something good to write about when I get home.

Gifts and Thankfulness Vol. 4 and 5

Saturday gift:

ANOTHER banana split. Seriously, I have to stop.

Sunday gift:

Another hour of sleep. It was amazing.

Saturday I was thankful for:

1--Being able to be spontaneous. When we want to grab our stuff and head to the lake at a moment's notice, we can.
2--Joel being attentive when we're out places--like the lake--and grilling me hot dogs (I refuse to say how many) when no one else is hungry, because I'm about to starve to death.
3--Coming home after a long day and plopping down in bed. There's nothing better.

Sunday, I am thankful for:

My family. They're crazy and sometimes they drive me nuts, but they're mine. And I wouldn't trade them for anything!

Swimming Back in Time

I wrote recently about what my life was like growing up with two older brothers. And, today, we somehow, suddenly traveled back in time to those moments.

My family is always making up excuses to get together and eat and talk about funny stuff. At Christmas, even after the holiday celebrations have come and gone, we have Christmas in January and all get back together and do it again. We have joint birthday celebrations twice a year to celebrate the birthdays that have passed in the last few months. We cookout for Memorial Day, Labor Day, and sometimes even Arbor Day (okay, that last part isn't true). We just love hanging out with each other.

How we are in pictures

How we really are

Also, when we get together. It's all about making fun of each other, pulling some kind of pranks on each other, and somehow, some way, the discussions inevitably turn to poop. I can't explain it, but it's like clockwork.

So, today was our fourth of July celebration. We all got together, grilled, drank beer, and swam. We're in a bit of a drought, and so there was thankfully no mention of fireworks. No one wore corny USA shirts, and there was no birthday cake for America. But there were plenty of Clarks and plenty of antics.

A few weeks ago, the boys purchased an above ground swimming pool. Again, not everyone gets to live in the lap of luxury like us Clarks. I know how jealous you are. But it's perfect for family gatherings when it's 106 degrees out.

The ones who aren't technically related learn to fit in quickly

(I should take this time to say that Kevin and Chris live in the same house. Kev and Em have lived there for years--upstairs--and Chris, April, and Jack moved into the downstairs about a year ago. They wanted me to move in next door, and I replied, "You people are crazy!")

Jack was ready to begin the entertainment at a moment's notice

It was as if as soon as our feet touched the water, we were back to being kids again. Kevin was using the noodles to blow water rockets into people's faces or, in my case, into my crazy crack eye. Everyone was making inappropriate comments about the phallic-like noodles, and anytime anyone could pants Jack, there was at least an attempt. At one point, Kevin and I challenged each other to an in-water crab race, but soon realized we'd need the function of our arms tomorrow and stopped. People were getting startled by a blast of freezing cold water from the hose, and I think Chris successfully sprayed every person in attendance in the tookus with a spray bottle. It was nothing but fun.

We, of course, had enough food to feed a small army, and Jeff and Joel joked the whole time about needing more hot dogs (because the 45 we grilled simply weren't enough).

It may be America's birthday we're celebrating or our independence or the people who graciously fight to give us that, but when the Clarks get together, it's always a celebration of each other. Young or old, big or small, related or not, no one is immune to wise-cracks, practical jokes, or discussions revolving around poop. We are the Clarks: party at your own risk.

Gifts and Thankfulness Vol. 3

Friday's Gift to Me Was:

Sugar. Sugar, sugar, and more sugar. Those of you who know me know that I try hard to limit the amount of carbs and sugar I eat. Yesterday, however, I bought and ate a square of pistachio nut fudge--awesome, had several drinks of Joel's Chocolate Banana Malt, and shared a banana split with him. Mmmmm. Totally worth it.

Friday, I was thankful for:

1--Having Jo and Destiny in my life. They are wonderful and amazing friends. They inspire me, make me laugh, and understand my crazy ways.

2--Having Joel to come home to. Spending our evenings together doing what makes us happy. Eating ice cream and watching movie previews, but not being able to decide on a movie.

3--Patrick O'Rourke. I am thankful that Destiny has him! Her car had a little glitch yesterday afternoon on the way home, and he didn't hesitate to jump in the car and drive two hours to help out his wife. I love that he loves her so much. She absolutely deserves it.

Playing Catch-Up

So yesterday, I spent many, many hours in the car and came up with several themes for the day's post. But, as you know, I get paralyzed when faced with decisions, so instead, I wrote nothing. Today, I'm playing catch-up and have decided to simply tell you about my awesome day. Because it was pretty awesome.

It started by my alarm going off around 7:15am, me turning to Joel, and saying, "I don't want to get up." He nodded, and we both went back to sleep. An hour later, I finally get out of bed realizing I have to leave in 15 minutes, need a shower, need to take Joel to the farm, and have to get gas. See? Awesome. I rushed around and was ready to walk out the door at 8:35, when Joel decided he'd stay home and save me a 15 minute detour.

Leaving the house so quickly resulted in me not packing food for the morning, and so I was existing off of not-enough water and a cup of coffee while I drove the three and a half hours to Berea, KY to meet Jo and Destiny to tour campus. Because I didn't have time to stop and eat, by the time I got to Berea, I was dangerously close to having a seizure (you see, I need to be fed every couple of hours). Fast forward to the drive home when I was digging through my purse to find gum and found not one, not two, but three cups of peanut butter and two Atkins bars. I'm glad I almost died of hunger in the middle of nowhere.

When we got to Berea, Jo and I searched what felt like miles and miles of Berea's campus to find Destiny waiting in the admissions office. When we were covered in sweat from the 106 degree temperature and near death, we finally found her and stumbled into the office. We met Greg, an admissions counselor at Berea and were completely mesmerized at how good he was at his job. We also all kicked ourselves for not going to Berea for college a million years ago when we went.

After our meeting and sweaty tour, we headed to Boone Tavern for lunch, but upon realizing it was closed, we stumbled to Main Street Cafe--mostly because we couldn't muster the energy to walk any further. During lunch, we realized how lucky we are to have each other. We have become such close friends, but we talk about how we're grown-up friends. Not the kind of friends who expect too much or the kind of friends you feel self-conscious around or need to impress. Not the kind of friends who you can't be your complete and total self around. One day, I'll write a blog about our theory on grown-up friends. It's an amazing concept, and we're lucky we have each other.

After lunch and lots of stimulating conversation, we gave in (after an amazingly healthy lunch) and went to the ice cream/candy shop next door. We each decided to purchase pounds and pounds of sugary candy with a scoop of ice cream on top, but chickened out before we ordered and each settled for a morsel or two of sugar.

This is what I ordered.

Two miles down the road, it was $2.97.

I, then, spent the next three hours in the car before getting in touch with Joel. He was at a tiny lake on the outskirts of Owensboro. He wanted me to come out. Sure, I've only been in the car for 7 hours today, I'll be right there. I stopped to get gas and paid a mere $3 a gallon for it. I had a tiny party on the way out of Ohio County. I finally found the tiny lake where Joel was hanging out with his buddies and watched his buddies horse around for a while before I was covered in my own sweat for the third time that day. (All-in-all, I was inside the Camry driving for a total of eight and a half hours.)

Yes, that's my pillow he's so happy to take over.

On the way home, we decided I hadn't had enough burgers and sugar for the day, so we got burgers and a banana split--in a boat, NEVER a cup--from the Big Dipper. We came home and snuggled with our sweet dog, who voluntarily got into bed and took over my pillow. Then we did our favorite thing ever--watched movie previews until we fell asleep.



Not sure what I've done to deserve it, but lately life has been pretty amazing.

Gifts and Thankfulness Vol. 2

Gift:

Today, I really, really wanted a nap--since my nap yesterday was a mere 15 minutes. So when I got home and realized Joel was napping, I saw my opportunity. I laid down for a nap and proceeded to be called, texted, or Facebook messaged by everyone I know. CD also asked to go out twice. So we'll say my gift was having Arby's for lunch. Twice in one week. Apparently good mood food it is.

Thankfulness:
1--I am thankful for the little man who stands on the porch on Byers Avenue playing rock music on his Paper Jamz.
2--I am thankful for the man who sleeps next to me each night, and when I wake up at 2am with a pounding headache and sore throat, is right there with medicine and snuggles to make me feel better.
3--I am thankful for my family--both near and far--who stick together through thick and thin. And fight for each other. I will always fight for them too.

Brotherly Love

Let me tell you about my brothers. When we were younger, it was pretty much a love/hate relationship. They loved to make me hate them.

BFFs since 1983

We give family love a bad name

In the summer time, we would beg our mother to let us go out and swim in our above ground pool (clearly, I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth). Knowing us all too well, she would warn that if the boys splashed me in the face, we would all be made to come inside. "Please, pleeeeease don't splash your sister in the face," she'd plea. In a matter of mere minutes, she would hear the familiar sound of my wales because my brothers had almost immediately splashed me in the face rendering me blind and unable to breathe. There was also the time when Kevin and I were drip-drying (again, our extravagant lifestyle didn't allow for beach towels) one evening while Dad was bar-b-quing. Kevin was dipping the brush into the sauce and sucking on the brush (a common practice when Dad was grilling, along with begging for raw hot dogs). As I asked over and over to give me a turn at the brush, Kevin finally turned with a grin on his face, and held the brush out. As I approached for my turn, he swiped the BBQ sauce covered brush through my eyes. Dad had to wash my eyes out with the hose and thus began my first of many bouts of crazy crack eye. Kevin also had many antics he enjoyed at the lake we frequented. I have come up from the water to be met with loogies (or hockers or snot bombs or whatever you want to call them) being projectiled right into my eye. I have come up to find a lump of hard clay being slung directly at my face and landing right between my eyes. It was never-ending. Chris once broke his arm, because he was sitting in a tree spitting on me and Kevin standing below when the branch broke and sent him flying to the ground. He may or may not have totally deserved that.

Our annual wishbone contest...Kevin always wins (read cheats)

In the winter, it was much of the same. We would beg to go out and play in the snow, and Mom would, in turn, plead with my brothers to please, please not throw snow in my face. Minutes after being completely bundled up and herded outside, I'd return to the house, bawling. You see, my brothers weren't throwing snow balls in my face, but yet, they were holding me down, stuffing snow into my boots, gloves, and sides of my hood. I was a Cas-sicle within minutes, and they found it to be hilarious.

To this day, I can't put my head under blankets, because my brothers used to trap me under them and not let me out until I was headed toward certain death. Clearly, they've left quite the mark on me.

The family that parties together stays together

One might think that I hold a grudge against my brothers or maybe that I'm terrified to go near them. On the contrary, my brothers are two of my best friends in the whole world. We are "in it" together and are there for each other when no one else has been. There are moments in my life where I felt like I could turn to no one, and there, standing in front of me with open arms, were my brothers. They have wiped my tears, pep-talked me, and kicked my ass into gear when I've needed it. And no matter what is going on in life that makes me frustrated with them, want to shake them, or want to go tell Mom on them, if they need me, I'm right there by their sides without blinking an eye. I would do anything for those boys, and I know they'd do anything for me.

Our parents are so proud

 

Many people aren't close with their siblings and may go years and years without speaking to them. Chris, Kevin, and I are so lucky to have each other and lucky to know that when we need someone, we can always call each other. I'm honestly not sure what I'd do without those guys, and I hope I never, ever have to find out. 

No, really, I do like him

The cutest kids on the block