Brain betrayal

My brain has a mind of its own sometimes, I swear, someone needs to kick some sense into it.

It can be a good thing, like how I saw "Famous Quotes" with just the e,t,and s in the  WOF bonus round. 

 It is also  the reason I appreciate life's simple things.

(I guess that's not true..a simple thing is watching a butterfly flit by as you're en route to pick up some Doritos for your son,  financially swinging a getaway in paradise is not exactly the same thing but I appreciate both.)

But then my brain gets all warped, like how I told Jim last night we were about to walk through a fine stream of  water from a sprinkler, when it was merely beams from a string of overhead lights.

Or how I've been wearing Skechers since 2016, yet I managed to get my first blister  in as many years last night.

Or..and I wasn't going to confess this but another player from the movie game was comparing his experiences at different resorts, and he was talking about..St. Lucia, I think??

He said the experience is quite different if your room in on the Caribbean side, rather than the Atlantic, and, when we first arrived to THIS resort, the staffer told us there are two parts to Sandals Antigua, the Caribbean and the Mediterranean, where we're staying, and for one fleeting jet lagged moment I forgot where Europe was.

(The same brain fart I had when Jim and I were walking  into the movie "1917" and I asked him what war the movie took place in)

See?  Brain betrayal.

Don't you think I realize how PERVERTED I am when I take a gorgeous film like "Castaway", one of my favorite Tom Hank's films of all times, and see the darkest, ugliest slant just because of a GAME with a white balloon?  A game I wasn't even participating in?

My sick twisted brain implied that Tom Hanks was having an affair with a volleyball.

(Although has anyone seen any unedited version  of the film that could actually disprove this?)

But then this same gray matter acknowledges things that matter, like how happy it is that my  June vacation plans with my family are all set, or how happy I am with Super Tuesday results.

I am not the one who planned this wonderful trip(that credit goes to my extraordinary travel agent, Christine Cherry Hommel, nor am I responsible for the literal solution to my very problematic hair. ((Thank you, Jessica Rupp)

But I guess I have to crow a little here, because it's MY brain that allows me to appreciate the awesomeness of a tropical getaway.

We had a delectable dinner at a reservations only place, and yes, Blue Mountain Coffee Infused Steak tastes as good as it sounds.  So goes pumpkin bisque.  Portions are tiny, which takes away  guilt that I probably wouldn't have if the steak was a big as the guy hoisting himself into the hot tub.

At first I was concerned that Sandals Antigua doesn't have an actual theater, but what they have it better than an enclosed structure that can feel like a sauna.

We sat theater-style, in comfy chairs, and I learned to love Nature more than I already do.  I don't like to sit outside in my my NJ home, even in nicer weather.   

I can't see or smell or feel or even taste or hear what I can in Antigua, and I thank my goofy brain for allowing me to drink it all in.

We sat close to the stage in this blissfully smoke-free environment, and watched a talented magician hand out rabbits to the audience and turn milk into water.

There was really no contest in this "Guest Vs. Staff" talent show--only one guest entered, a drummer named Michael who blew everyone away with his thrilling performance of "Wipe Out."

It was mostly staff who did flips and  sexy hot dances and things with fire, who sang like a chorus of angels.

I so love perfect nights..and perfect days..and perfect vacations.

Yeah, even a mind as sick as mine can acknowledge that.