Rockstar Vacation

Hey there!

Yep, it's really me. I'm actually writing. And only a week after I've been back from vacation. Good, no? And I'm actually sooooo in the mood to write tonight. First of all, Adders and I've gone our separate ways for the evening. Him to drink beer and act stupid and say the word "fuck" a lot with his buddies. And me to spend lots and lots of money at Winners (where I found the world's cutest leopard print boots. In a size too small. And yet I've determined that they will fit my feet regardless) with Adders' mom and sis (awww, see? We're already bonding like family! And I'm so bold as to march them both into People's jewelry to show off which rings I would MAYBE POSSIBLY consider letting their son/brother propose with. They secretly hate me, don't they?). So yeah. But now I'm back at the basement suite while Adders is still out carousing with his pals and I've got a few candles lit, a nice cup of tea and I'm ready to go!

But first. Do you ever have those times where you think that you must be pregnant? No seriously. Like, this is probably the first month in the entire time Adders and I have been getting busy (which is now over a year, oh my God! I have been a little sex fiend whore for over a year! How exciting!) that I haven't had a freak-out or worried about the possibility of being preggers. Because I'm not. We're so careful now after months of agony that it's not even feasible. And yet I SOOOO could be.

For example, I was nauseous ALL the livelong morning. And then I've been extremely irritable recently (and NO, Charkins, that's not just me on a regular basis). But oh my God, the crying jags are what are really killing me. I sob all the bloody time, what about, we're not sure. However, if my mother ever does read this, let me just say for the record that almost every single time the crying session culminates in me bawling on Adders' shoulder, "I miss my Mommy!!! Why doesn't she love me and miss me?" Any guilt there, Redhead? No? Oh, quel surprise.

But that's a topic for a WHOLE other entry. In fact, you know what would make a great post? An open letter to my parents. It would go something like this:

Dear Mom and Dad,

You suck.
Fuck off.

xxoo,
Miss Courty

Succint? Yep. Harsh? I guess a tad. Bitter? Hell fucking rights.

But wow, this is so not on topic.

So, without further ado, may I present to you:

Adders & Miss Courty - The Summer Vacation Saga

Right. So for our summer holiday, Miss Courty got the brilliant idea that the A-Man and her should take a road trip down to Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming, with a few days added on in Glacier National Park in Montana. Why? Who the hell really knows. It was a completely whimsical suggestion and I practically fell over when Adders agreed to it.

The trip started on the Saturday and it involved many, many, MANY hours sitting in the Nissan, listening to the really bad CDs I had burned (except, can I just say? I LOVE me some Fergie "London Bridge" song. OH MY GOD. And you should see my car-dance moves to it. They're awesome. Even Adders was amazed; so impressed that he was stunned into silence and had to look away).

But of course, a trip wouldn't be complete for us if there wasn't some drama the first night. This time it involved there being no room in the inn for Adders, Miss Courty and Baby Jesus all throughout the greater southern Montana area. No word of lie. We ended up camped on the side of the road (okay, maybe it was a campground BESIDE the road, but still - it was very dramatic and we totally stole someone's reserved camp spot. We're badasses like that).

The next day we awoke to find that our air mattress - the one we had used only ONCE (1) before - had somehow sprung a leak and we were now lying on the cold tent floor. So we had to find ourselves a Walmart and buy a whole new one. But it was worth it because it meant we got to spend some time in an American Walmart, which is like, the holy grail of discount shopping (cutest sweater vest there EVER. Did Adders let me buy it? No. Did he have a hissy fit when I simply wanted to try it on? Yes. Did I then attempt to steal his keys and drive off in the Nissan without him? Perhaps). Oh, but wait. There's more. The other Walmart story is that at this point I was literally salivating for a morning coffee or frappucino. So I asked one of the Walmart greeters (!) where there was a nearby Starbucks. Well, first of all, my God if only she was one of Adders' patients, we'd be millionaires by now - I don't think she had one single tooth left in there. Secondly, you'd think we were vacationing in Southern Mississippi with the drawl she had going. And lastly, you'd think I'd asked her, "Pardon me, Madam. Do you know where the closest Versace boutique is? I'm desperate for a new evening gown" with the way she gaffawed and was all, "OH MY GAWWWWWD, I haaaave NO idea. But even if I didn't, I wouldn't evah go to a fancy schmancy place like Starbucks. No way." All I could do was blink at her as Adders started frantically pushing me out the door.

Hmmmm, so what else? Well, we spent the next two nights in Yellowstone National Park. We saw a waterfall that, while mesmerizing and beautiful, quite possibly didn't necessitate being captured in 73 pictures. I also managed to go poop. And maybe you find this somewhat disturbing that I'd even mention this. But OH MY GOD - I hadn't gone in four days and the pain and the bloating and the ceaseless complaining to Adders that it felt like I had a litter of kittens in my lower stomach took up so much time and energy that it deservedly needs to be mentioned.

Another highlight was when Adders excitedly jumped out of the truck WITH IT STILL IN DRIVE in order to take a few (read: 47) pictures of some bull elk. Not only did he almost mow me over, but the truck could have gotten scratched! The horror! To get back at him for almost killing us, I announced loudly to Adders in the midst of all the visitors admiring and fawning over the elk, "You want to shoot those elk right now, don't you? You want your gun so you can blow their heads off and take their racks. Pervert." All eyes swivelled to Adders, whose face turned beet-red. Needless to say, he high-tailed it back to the truck. And promptly tried to start it WHILE IT WAS ALREADY ON! Sucker.

Now I would be totally remiss if I didn't tell you about our brushes with the law. Somehow we didn't manage to get a speeding ticket on our trip (although that probably has more to do with the fact that Montana's speed limits are 20 miles per hour higher than it is even possible to drive), but we did manage to get in trouble with several Park Rangers.

So our first night in Yellowstone we camped in the world's suckiest campsite ever (Evah evah? Evah evah). It was basically one large field with wall-to-wall people. Lovely. We were in between a gay couple and about 40 Hell's Angels bikers. Fun. Furthermore, you couldn't sneeze in your tent without all the 300 sites hearing you. Fantastic.

Nevertheless, it was our vacation! And as we've already determined, I'm a sex fiend whore! So after a nice dinner, our nightly constitutional and a few sips of rum to wash down our s'mores, we headed to bed in our tent, and started to, well, you know - get frisky! We were at that point when we were both finally fully naked with Adders on top of me and things are starting to get critical when suddenly a truck pulls into our site, someone jumps out, shines a flashlight into our tent and starts screaming at us, "Is this your coolers and camp stove that you've left out? Excuse me, but if you don't come out here and clean this stuff up, I'm going to have to fine you. Come clean this up NOW!" So now Adders and I are staring at each other going "HOLY MOTHER MARY OF GOD, WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO? AND WHO GOES AND CLEANS UP WHEN WE'RE BOTH BUCK NAKED?" DUH! It's the girl, of course. It's ALWAYS the girl. No good goddamn erections that can't be disguised. So I threw on some clothes, stumbled out of the tent and, shame-faced, put away all our gear as Adders remained in the tent snickering and the Park Ranger alternated between smirking and glowering at me. Sigh. Oh, the glamour. Oh, the romance.

As for the rest of our trip, well, good times were had. Several renditions of 20 Questions were played (as well as Backgammon and Crib which Miss Courty kicked flippin' ass at. But to be fair, I didn't stand a chance against Adders in Connect Four). We stayed in a hotel one night so we could shower (the only time we did during the seven days we were gone. What?! At least we both smelled TOGETHER). And we also spent two other nights in Glacier National Park, which was great fun. Although I did fucking lose it one night when I woke up at 2:30am to someone having a fire across the campground from us but at first thinking the cracking of the wood was a bear walking through the trees. Me: Baby, we need to make a run for the truck. The bear's going to get us in here. For reals, let's run for the truck. Everyone else is. Oh, God, we're going to die. Adders: Do I have to marry you? Really?

So yeah, that was the trip. It really was a lot of fun. Romantic too, despite all the drama!

And now, ya'll, I'm going to bed. Adders is STILL not back (humph. Better not be having fun. At all. None whatsoever. Fun is only to be had with ME). But I'm too sleepy to wait. But before I sign off, I just want to give a little shout-out to a new reader. Yea! Charkins has been doing some solid advertising for me and has found me a new convert named Kelli (hope I spelled that right!). Welcome Kelli. This makes you the third person to read this blog and oh, how I wish I could say I was joking. Feel free to comment. Adders doesn't even know how to write and he still manages to comment once in a while so please do!

Anyhow, kids. Until next time...

Who's that sexy man in a cowboy hat? Why, it's Adders showing that he's almost as hott as Old Faithful!

Proof that we actually did see it. Was it actually faithful? Well, we got to see it blow twice, so I guess it was.

Diet Coke = Crack for Miss Courty, especially during lunch break on a four hour hike.

Yep, that's the waterfall. But who can stare at the cascade when OH MY GOD, that girl may only have an A cup but PUHLEASE put on a goddamn bra.

Here we pose with yet another geyser. And I cannot even convey to you my disappointment that we weren't even allowed to take a dip in them.

So, Adders decided to go fishing. ACROSS the river. After I told him that a real man would. And before we both realized that the river was deceptively deep and fast moving. Oops!

Awww, this picture was taken our last night of vacation.
And yes, that is true joy you see on our faces! :)