Showing posts with label legs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label legs. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Lessons vol. CUBA

[NOTE:  Honestly really just more of a list of things from my trip, but we'll say they're life lessons for the facade of consistency.  Also, I do what I want.]

  • Morbidly obese people in professional athletic shoes both boggle the mind and entertain.  Seriously, w-what?
  • Day 1, 09:32:  Begin the perma-buzz.
  • So...apparently being on vacation means all my strict dietary discipline that I maintain in my day to day pretty much just goes right the hell out the window.  Just gone, baby, gone.  I regret (almost) nothing.
  • Banana Mamma con Tequila.  Thank you, Cuba, for this discovery.  Thank you.

  • Learning both French and Spanish at the same time means I don't actually speak either, instead it comes out as something I've dubbed Espançais.  It goes about as well as you'd think.
  • Having run around without protection in deserts, I early made the mistake of not respecting the Cuban sun as I should, and it in turn taught me why this is wrong. (Very specifically burnt my nose when I fell asleep for a few hours.)
  • Stung by jellyfish as a child, I have a reasonable fear of them.  Guess what the beach was littered with for the first few days? Man o' war, actually.  About the same level of fun.
  • Upon arriving at the resort I fast discovered the night club generally only had about... 5 patrons.  Deeming this unacceptable, I discovered my powers to get people on the dance floor still work in other countries; even language barriers mean nothing.  (Had it averaging at least 30 to 45 people by the second night.)
  • Getting lost may lead to accidentally ending up in the "Royal" part of the resort, which may less-accidentally lead to acting like you're supposed to be there while you enjoy lobster in a hammock.
  • As a woman (and I suppose I shouldn't rule out all men) visiting a foreign country, be prepared to be propositioned by the locals.  A lot. A lot a lot.  For the goal of at least one of three things:  a sale, a green card, a hole.  They have a strange inability to understand "No" (in multiple languages), making it occasionally difficult to remain civil. 
  • When shaving your legs you might want to make sure you do not stop before your skirt begins.  This is not a good look on anyone:
I don't even know what to make of that decision process.  It was way too precise to be attributed to haste. 
  • You have to love a country that designs their capitol purely out of spite:
  • I am delicious.  Ravagingly so.  ...To mosquitoes (and possibly vampires).  Curiously, only from the knees down.  Bizarre, considering being in a swim suit means they really have their choice of meat.  I noticed this pattern on a few other guests as well.
  • So... 4AM shenanigans, our near BnE into the wrong resort had about all the success you'd expect of drunken beach ninjas (which is quite the opposite of sober actual ninjas).  For the record though, that was some intense security for a beach.  Luckily, even the girls that didn't speak Spanish picked up that "policidad"was a good cue to cut losses...
  • Everyone smokes in Cuba.  Think you don't?  Too bad!  Enjoy all that second hand without a filter.  (I did not understand the few that thought they'd be safe there of all places.)  Pretty much the same for drinking - at least on the resort.  Oh, all inclusive...
  • 12" 3-hole punch that I forgot was buried at the bottom of my backpack for years now, at the Varadero airport you will become the "hidden pocket knife" that nearly gets me arrested.
  • Girls that buy those leggings with the denim print on them: you're not fooling anyone.  You do, on the other hand, look spectacularly cheap in taste.  Well done.
  • Going from 29ºC to -12ºC in three hours is officially not my favourite way to be welcomed home, Canada.  I still love you, but we need to talk.

    Sunday, November 21, 2010

    DISASTERE.

    I am down two my last two razors. (Also: !)
    What do I do?  I haven't bought a razor in YEARS.  I used to have a drawerful - and not like a namely-pamby sized drawer, but a deep one, that's 3'x2'.

    And (yes, I started my sentence with "and".  That's going to happen quite a bit if you stay here.  Even if you don't actually.  Just so you know.) since I had to open a new one that means I'm really down to one.  Which might not even be real, I just saw orange among the other misc. clutter and assumed it was the packaging, choosing to let my possibly-false-hope live instead of brutally killing it then and there.

    Table for one.  Next to the delusion, please.

    I should probably stop and mention, for those of you not stalking me on the more intimate level of reading my mind, that these are shaving razors.  Like for legs and whatnot.  Gillette Fusion to be precise.



    So.  Why haven't I bought a new razor in the last…[math math math]…5 years?  See: Drawerful.

    So.   That:  Well, about 5-6 years ago I worked retail at a some crappy videogame joint (rhymes with Belectronics Boutique).  And (Bam!  There it is again.  I also like abusing parentheses) one day they decided to do a brilliant marketing gimmick with Gillette.  This entailed them sending crates of razors to our store and instructing us to give one razor to each person that bought a game.  Now for part of our clientele this was an appropriate-ish sample.  For the rest who had yet to reach double digits in their age…not so much. Long story short, at the end of each shift, whoever was working would end up going home with (at least) a bagful of Fusions.
    That was a golden era.  No matter how many I gave away to people I knew it seemed liked my supply never dwindled.  I was like the tooth fairy, except I didn't accept deposits of teeth and gifted razors instead of money.  Oh, and I didn't break into homes to leave them under pillows.  Yeah, just like the tooth fairy.

    Even when the promotion ended I was still so arrogant, so full of hubris…
    Which brings us here.

    It's been too long.  When this one and the possibly-fictitious one are gone… I can't go back to buying them like some wretched derelict!  I can't!  There must be another way.
    I will have to meditate on this.  And (one more for the road) savour these following ...okay, many months, with scandalously smooth gams for free - and tonight, fresh sheets.
    Oh!