Caribbean highlights and downfalls

Caribbean highlights:

Finding 3 bags manufactured in 1972 for sale in a Caribbean “department store” -- one waterproof, yellowish, Le Sportsac-looking bag, one large, dull purple canvas tote and one bright red satchel with “MY NEEDLEWORK” stamped across it for 5 dollars total.

The key lime pie in Key West.

Chickens and roosters roaming the streets.


Crying with laughter every night because Sean’s family is so freakin’ funny. Or as Sean likes to call it, sucking up shamelessly because I want his family to like me.

Coming back to a new towel animal every night. My favorite was the towel monkey- Val Kilmer.

Eating the chocolate mints on my pillow while burrowing into a soft, turned-down bed, then using, “I’m on vacation” as justification for not getting up to brush my teeth. In fact, using, “I’m on vacation” for all my hygienic, behavioral and diet-related ineptitude.

24/7 frozen yogurt.

Caribbean downfalls:

Falling off an ocean ledge and walking through THE PIT OF ALL THINGS EVIL AND ROTTING

Back story: Sean and I were gallivanting across the beaches of Coco Kay and spying many island sorts of things- stingrays, a long blue and yellow fish, conches- it was great. Not long into our journey, we happened upon an irregular part of the beach where, at one second, we were wading in ankle deep waters and, in the next, the ocean had gobbled us head to foot. Now Sean thought dropping off a ledge was splendid fun, but I burst into a tearful hysteria and started swimming for my life from the abyss of cold, dark, liquid fear (water).

We went back to the beach chairs to regroup. I put on my Jackie O. hat and sunglasses and we waded out again, very careful to look for the dark spots. That’s when the second danger of Coco Kay hit- the sulfur swamp. Sean was walking; the water touched his knees. I held his hand and sat cross-legged in the water, being pulled alongside him. My whole head was dry and out of the water but my body was sumptuously immersed and gliding. Suddenly, Sean sank down and I thought, “Not another cliff!” But no. It was far worse. It was a long pit of poop-like substance. The taste rested on my tongue in a film and it smelled like someone farted in my nostrils. Sean loosed a scream and high-stepped it out of there. He gripped me like a surfboard, so that my stomach rested against his hip and my head pointed upward and he ran the whole time like this (about 45 seconds). Finally, we reached firm ground and I realized the dryness of my head. Sean had managed to carry me knee-deep through poo without getting my hat or sunglasses wet. I almost proposed to him.