The siren song of Anna Maria has called us back.
It's been many years since we've walked the powdered sugar shores of this southern paradise along the Gulf of Mexico.
OK, enough poetic nonsense. So we're here for a week, ostensibly to celebrate my mother-in-laws 75th, my sister-in-laws 50th, and my daughter's upcoming 21st. But really it's because if we didn't get away for a little R&R I'd very likely flip a nutty like Tommy did on Billy "go get your fucking shine box" Batts. The way things began I may have flipped said nutty at SFO. We had a 12:30 a.m., yes A.M. flight that, after wolfing down a late night cheeseburger in order to make said flight, we discovered was delayed more than an hour because the flight crew had yet to arrive; never again with United Airlines. They've fucked me more times than…well never mind, but I can assure you that number is higher than two. We spent that hour scrambling to…
Yeah, so that was last Saturday, July 1. Then we didn't have internet service at our hotel all week. Now I'm sitting in Tampa International Airport awaiting our return flight. Wtf? I had planned to post periodically so that you might enjoy a little break from your otherwise dreary, work-a-day lives. Oh well. Sorry about that. I could do a recap of our week but who has the energy for that? Ate a ton. Swam a bunch. Rented scooters, which was awesomely geeky fun. I totally want a scooter now. So that's my vacation take away. I want a scooter.