Everyone is referring to me as “Chicago Lady” ( I don’t live there) or “Coffee Girl” (which I only drink iced, and rarely even that except on vacation.)
I’ve been referring to MYSELF as a “handicapped old lady” to gain sympathy from the tram drivers and to lie to myself about being the inspiration for the Karen meme.
I am awash in bubbles as I write this, as the wind is directing the contents of the foam party being set up on the beach now my way and I’m not going to complain.
You know why??
Because I, selfish, self absorbed Karen, just did something for the greater good.. for the kids’ club that was due to arrive shortly for some pool time and Marco Polo , and for all those folks of various shapes and sizes currently participating in Aqua Gym.
I’m doing my treading exercises, just me and the bees with the whole deep end of the pool to ourselves, when I see the maintenance man struggling with his net.
He spoke no English whatsoever but gestures to me that his pole needed lengthening.
Let’s hope I was reading him correctly, that he was saying only that.
He gestures, and I swam toward the unreachable (for him) center of the deep end, where all the debris seemed to like collecting.
I thrash around like a madwoman, ferociously pushing piles of leaves and twigs toward his net.
There were candy wrappers, and clumps of grass, and.. who the f&ck throws effin’ cigarette butts into the pool??!!
But I’m working myself into a frenzy, pushing like crazy, thinking “you are a caring environmentalist at heart, Karen!”
Also, I was thinking, “one living bee and this ends. And I don’t even want to think about what I’m capable of doing if I find a condom wrapper. Why are people such pigs?”
The maintenance man and his pole were very grateful for my unselfish act, and I got to swim in a pristine environment.
This is probably our last beach day, considering tomorrow’s forecast and Jim has gone all homicidal on me.
He wants to brave the waves, I want to live.
Yes, I realize this is our first and last beach trip for 2023.. and the idea for our last vacation to be a relaxing one on the beach was strictly mine, but who could have predicted this virtual tsunami? The waves cannot be conquered, and yeah, I’m bummed about it, but I’d rather be a lazy beach bum than a drowned one. I prefer frolicking to blogging: I’d rather be in the water than in this lousy mood, but sometimes.. them’s the breaks.
The treacherous breaks of these angry waves.
We just came back from our regularly scheduled 2:15 trivia game, bust a was it but.
Backwards played was song every because.
“It’ll be a challenge!”.. promised the emcee.
“ we have to play these songs in reverse because the theme is Disney.. too easy!”
“Old handicapped women and their bee-stung husbands aren’t going to know anything from “Encanto.” Can’t you just play it at normal speed for loyal guests like us who’ve been showing up daily?”
“ not can I sorry” he replies, so we basically spent a good chunk of the afternoon listening to what sounded like a broken record.
And anyone reading my blogs will relate to the “broken record” part and that’s okay.
The foam party looked great if you’re not an old handicapped lady from Chicago who spends her day drinking coffee with her bee-stung husband.
I’m into lather.
A wonderfully constructed foam party on the beach.
The kids looked like it was the best bath ever, and foam parties are designed for them, not me.
It really is idyllic to sit in a lounge chair, listen to seagulls chirp, breathe in the salt air, and watch the beautiful churning blue water,white with nature’s foam.
Next week reality sets in, when we’re back to civilization, where we’re gonna fall asleep right after “Jeopardy!”
And fight over who has to get up to let the dog out, so let’s enjoy the “today” part of today.
Because there really is a lot to appreciate here.
Here, there, and everywhere with my favorite husband.
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