If you google Club Med Turks and Caicos, or Turkoise, the first photo you'll see is the amazing infinity pool that was constructed after last fall's major hurricane damage. I think there's a reason it's called an infinity pool--if you're short and get charley horses and you are averse to unsteady ladders, you will be convinced that you will spend the rest of your living days in that pool--to infinity and beyond. Club Med put us in a room with the name "salt" in the building. It would be like putting an alcoholic in the "vodka" wing, but I love the long walk. Because in addition to providing us with the furthest possible room, they are providing white chocolate bread, the closest thing this Earth will ever know to god given Manna. I'm good for five--or forty five pieces a meal.
Speaking of 45, that's the theme for tonight's dinner. Jim is wearing his "45" shirt. And his tan already has an orange hue. And he's been wearing a bright red baseball cap with bright white lettering. It says "NY Yankees" but from a distance, it looks like he's trying to make America great again. Oh, my snow flake little liberal husband! Go lock yourself in the bathroom and look at porn with Kelly Anne Conway and Betsy De Vos..I'll forgive you, I promise.
We finally figured out why our high tech room key wasn't working--because it was programmed with the wrong number. I don't love technology. And I don't love cats, but there are like 100 strays here, and they are admittedly adorable. And could I ask for anything more than signs saying it's illegal to smoke on any beach here or by the pool? So if I try to complain, remind me of that.
So I made it out of the infinity pool and my snippy mood. Time to look at the ocean and indulge myself in a Sarah Pekkanen's latest. I will seize this day, even if it kills me
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