Don't Get A Pedicure Before Going To The Bahamas

   It’s clear to me now, that I should NOT ever get a pedicure prior to a trip to the Bahamas.  My ‘Monsooner or Later’ is posing a problem, but I’m sure that ‘I’m Not Really a Waitress’ or ‘Cha-Ching Cherry’ would be equally dangerous.    It’s those damn curly tailed lizards.  They are apparently friendly and non-aggressive, but I have found that not to be completely accurate.  They like small pieces of yellow cheese.  They like pieces of fruit. They like to socialize. They like my toes. Obviously, the dumb reptiles have really poor eyesight and think my pretty tomato-colored toes are…tomatoes. Cherry tomatoes.  Or maybe watermelon.  Or mango or something. In any case, they're not so cute to me, and I'm about to enter combat mode....    They attack me…those irritating beasts.....and regardless of whether I’m sitting on a chair, at the dining table or standing at the edge of the deck, the bloody crawly things will unfailingly nip at my pedi.  It doesn’t really hurt, per say, but it sure can scare the senses out of you when you get a tug on the toe before you’ve even had your first cup of coffee…or third rum and ice cubes….  It's dangerous actually, and i almost had to take a trip to the clinic (open on Tuesdays from 10 -1:30) from a mishap with a chair that got in the way during one of my escapes. And I can't just move my feet, because they follow my movement, and being that they are 'social' and 'playful' they think I'm engaging in some fun ritual that excites them even more. I move to the left, they move to the left. I move my feet in, they move in. It’s frankly just rude.   The kids think it’s a riot, so I’m glad I can be some form of entertainment and not just the boring ol’ disciplinarian,  but it’s pretty bad when your daughter asks you to put your feet down so that she can lure the lizards in and play with them…..That in itself may deserve a privilege loss, eh?     It’s gotten to the point now, that I have the kids survey the area first before I venture outside, and then, I sit with my feet in an elevated position, regardless of where I am.  Am I supposed to endure this abuse? Will I be forced to always be reclined, with my feet up for the entire trip? (I know, sounds like what most people would WANT to do). Or, (gasp), do I have to remove my polish?   So, the things are endangered, I’m told, but I’m about to push them over the line to extinction in a moment.  And can you blame me?  If finding nail polish remover in this town is anything like finding water, I’m screwed….

Water Water Everywhere

The first night we went to the place with the 'best food on the island'. It was a closet that served fried conch, fried chicken, fried snapper, fried rice. Oh- there was also mac and cheese.  My 14 year old daughter and I ( we are allergic to gluten) ate ice cubes ( mine had rum in it) and plantains.  Needless to say, I had more rum and ice cubes than plantain.  So much better for your sanity. I mention this experience because incidentally, the best 'restaurant' in town ALSO serves fried conch,  fried chicken, fried snapper, friend rice and Mac and cheese.  There was an addition to the menu at the restaurant extraodinaire, and that was curried lobster.  Curried lobster?  That is so not within the realm of food stuff here.  That's prob why it's such a fancy restaurant!  We eat here... After a crazy $28 per meal of fried whatevers, we go to pay the bill. They don't take credit cards we're told (now- sheesh) and we've spent $240 between the 4 of us, mostly on booze.... It's taken 2 1/2 hours to get our sad meals....  We scrape up $240 even leaving no tip for the poor dolt of a waitress, and of course kent complains to the owners of the best resto in town that  this in not acceptable.  As if they care...they're skimming off the top, man! We return home and I immediately feel nauseous.  My son is sleeping in my bed due to his trauma from the previous night, and he is worried. I take an anti-nausea pill designed for cancer patients on chemotherapy ( hello Elvis) and I try to go to sleep.  2 hours later I'm alternating both ends over the toilet in an effort to eliminate whatever it is that had gotten me so sick.  This goes on for 4 hours and I wonder if it was the ice in the rum, the curry in the lobster, the water I brushed my teeth with or the raw conch I ate at lunch. How come no one else is sick?  Why poor ol me?  Actually, I thank god it's only me! I survive the nite and we go looking for bottled water that I desperately need at this point.  The first place has lost the keys to the water bottles (seriously).  The second place has only one gallon available.  The third and last place had NO water but recommends the gas station ( because that just makes sense right?) down the street. Fyi, there is only one gas station that has very limited hours.  They have water, but they too have lost the keys.... No joke.  It's clear that water theft is big down here and we are out of luck, so we head to the liquor store.  Rum and wine have water in them, don't they? Right now, I'm on my 3rd homemade mohito.  My son is trying to catch dinner down at the beach and is only seeing barracudas.  Haven't seen him in a few hours.... My daughter is already writing in the guest book ( I may have to edit,) and My husband is grilling some ribs that look like they came from a very sad and lonely pig.  I'll happily be a eating ice cubes for dinner again! On thursday, we're renting a boat and touring.  My husband assures me he knows how to drive one and is familiar with the waters here.  Really? How is that possible?  I'm not even familiar with the waters here, and i know everything....I'm sure adventures await....

It's better in the Bahamas

It's 4:19 am when my 13 year old son comes into our room hysterically crying and not making any sense whatsoever. We have no idea what is going on because he is unable to get a grip or explain anything to us.  After ascertaining that he is not in some waking terror state, my mind goes to places dark and scary and I imagine someone has entered the house and flashed him or something.....  I bolt out of bed to check the place out when he says I can't explain it, it"s just really scary and itchy.  Itchy?  What you talking about boy?  He pulls down his shirt from his shoulder and there is what looks like a spider bite.  It's just a bite, Bud, I say and administer cortisone cream.  It continues to get read and swell.  I give him benedryl.  He's crying in pain. He's still hysterical.  I go to survey the room situation, ripping off sheets and looking under and behind the bed.  Nothing.  The little culprit has hit the road.  Good thing, because i was going to smash it to smithereens.  I go back into the bathroom where my sweet son has ripped off his clothing and is screaming because his welt is painful and growing.  My husband tells him to get it together and put his clothes back on.  He reaches for his shirt, and as he lifts it, a CENTIPEDE falls to the bathroom floor.  It is 3 inches long and very much alive.  At this point, The poor boy is panicked beyond  belief... Am I going to die?  I don't know.  Are they toxic?  I don't know?  Should i call 911?  Is it even 911 that you call here?  Are the hospitals and clinics closed after 10 pm...like everything else here? He has 3 bites on his body...one on his weenie...swelling, red, painful. All I can say is, thank god for google....   I googled 'centipede bites' and to my DELIGHT found out that they are extremely painful, but not toxic....usually.  Whew.  We'll just watch him. After a serious counseling session and an entire cleaning of a the room, we finally convince Dylan that this is a once in a lifetime thing...that he can rest easy....to go to sleep and not think about bugs crawling up and down his body bitting him... He finally gets into bed with his sister and sleeps there.  Tonight he is sleeping with me.  Sigh. This is only day 1.....

Holiday Heaven?

Adventure #1 We get to the greatest beach house ever- finally- after a day of travels and endless  delay.  The trusty house keeper, Jemeice, has promised to meet us there, but alas, she is not there.  We play a game called Try to Find the Hide-a-Key for 29 mins while avoiding the security cameras ogling at us.  We fail.  I poach some faint wifi and send a desperate email to the owners....in Scandinavia.  Our phone isn't working here! We saw them 'locking up' the house they call an airport when we left there, so we know the airport has closed.  Can't go back there, And it's dark- which is actually a great thing because the stars are AMAZING right by the ocean.  We forget we're homeless for a miNute and explore the area.   It's the perfect location and the house LOOKS perfect through windows in any case..  After some time I frantically search through my stuff, because knowing how organized I am ( used to be), I figure I'll have some local info somewhere. To my surprise I actually find Jeneice's ( still not sure how to pronounce it) number.  I pick up the cell, and considering this is a holiday spoiler, I allow myself the luxury of troubleshooting the phone so that I may call for $3.99/min.  I reach Jeneice and she tells me the airport said that the plane wasn't coming in due to a gas leak and fire in the fuselage.  Silly her- that was the plane BEFORE ours.  Think I would have known if there had been a fire on the plane! So, it all works out and we get into the best beach house at 9:45! Whew and yay.  Adventure # 2 is coming and THAT is a doozie.  You won't believe it......