In Sickness and in Health…‘til Sunburn Do Us Part

Postponing our honeymoon from Fall to January was one of the best adult AF things I did in 2017 (well, aside from saying, “I do”). Chillin’ on a beach in Riviera Maya on hot, sunny, 80º days was waaaaaay better than the -10º, cold tundra back home! HA! Take that suckaaaas!!

Basking in the equator sun, surrounded by blue-green ocean, with never ending food and drinks delivered to my beach chair – THIS.IS.THE.LIFE! Ok, ok…I’m not here to gloat, but as always, I love sharing my experiences from abroad, noting the pros and cons of my trips along with colorful, snarky commentary. In true betchplease fashion, of course there were a few medical situations and drama. Oy vey!

 Well, if anything, my last 2 trips outside the U.S. have taught me a few valuable lessons.

  • Pack light
  • Pack lighter

Although I adhered to my own advice in a previous blog, “MexiCANs & MexiDON’Ts – Parte Uno” with my packing do’s and don’ts, my bags were STILL a tad bit too heavy. UGH! So below I’ve shared some additional packing do’s and don’ts.

Packing Do’s – v2

Pack your suitcase at 35 lbs (50 lb limit noted) – this leaves packing room and weight allowance for souvenirs, liquor, beer, wine, wet clothes and more importantly liquor. Did I mention liquor? It’s very important.

  • Pack a water bottle/thermos – to use at the filtered water stations at airports. This saves you from buying $8 bottled water at the airport. Bitch, please!
  • Medical supplies
    • Band-Aids – mostly because I’m accident prone. True to character, I was minding my own business, walking on the beach heading back to my lounge chair and stepped on a fucking shell! This resulted in a deep cut on the bottom of my foot and a good chunk of skin gone. We then asked the staff for a Band-Aid and he promptly sends over the GD medic! Mexican Baywatch at my service! Minus the red lifesaver buoy. ARGH! I just about died of embarrassment as everyone (I mean EVERYONE…as it was a full, packed beach) stared at me with concern while he handed me a single, measly Band-Aid. Nothing here to see folks. No emergency here, move along. Seriously why do these things happen to me?!
    • Pepto caplets – for when you suffer from Montezuma’s Revenge. I was definitely not prepared for this asshole to enter my system, especially not even one day into our vacation. Sooooooo here goes round two of seeing a young, international Doogie Howser, AGAIN in Mexico and it was just as embarrassing as the last time. Having to provide a detailed description of my Montezuma affects was less than cute, all while profusely sweating non-stop as if I had just ran a fucking marathon! I was the literal meaning of #hotmess.
    • Not to mention a costly $189 USD doctor visit + another $111 USD in meds – CASH ONLY. Insurance better accept my claim.

Packing Don’ts – v2

  • Don’t buy $100 worth of toiletries – totally overpriced and extra. Spending $$$ at a local drugstore prior to even leaving on your trip should not be a thing! For fuck sakes! Be smart (because I sure wasn’t) and buy the following either in the summer or discounted at the end of the season:
    • Sunblock
    • SPF lip balm
    • Bug spray
  • Don’t bring 3 bottles of bug spray – just 1 will suffice. We barely used one. At least we are now mosquito proof for the next 5 years. #zikaprepping
  • Don’t bring bottles of any sort that have a pump mechanism. This will result in an explosion that will cover everything within your Ziploc bag (or in your suitcase if you didn’t pack properly). DERP! Don’t be lazy; use those mini plastic squeeze bottles for lotions, liquids, etc. It’s not like you’ll need to use a family-sized bottle of aloe lotion in 1 week. You really won’t.

Customs –

This time the lines weren’t that bad, and I wasn’t even red-lighted! Yay! However, I was sniffed out by the Mexican airport security and his agriculture canine. As I casually walked by the security dog, he immediately perked up, cranked his neck around, and started to follow me. I thought I was for sure going to get bit! Fuck, I was scared shitless as he was on my heels! After being questioned by the security guy, I apparently I smuggled a banana from the plane in my bag and forgot to ditch it prior to customs. As I was being lectured, the security dog continued to stare me down with those judging eyes, “Dumbass human.”

Security guy says, “NO FRUIT, meats, ham, vegetables, plants, allowed through customs.” For some reason, they really focused on ham. NO HAM! I apologized and gave up my banana and walked away without being arrested. My bad! I risked a look back, just in time to overhear the security guy say to his dog, “Muy Bueno!” Yeah, yeah….very good job dog, good job.

Destination Airport –

Luckily for us, we had zero issues at the airport itself. We avoided eye contact with everyone at all costs and we kept our bags close and closer.

Destination taxi –

For the first time ever I booked a taxi service called “Direct Rideshare”. This service provided a shared, direct taxi to our hotel without any stops for a nominal fee. Lucky for us, we were the only ones in the van – both ways! This not only got us to our hotel quicker as we didn’t have to dick around with all the hotel stops along the way, but we also had the freedom to stop at a convenient store to grab some brews and drink ON the way to our hotel! Startin’ the party early, baby! Highly recommend.

Hotel –

Upon arrival we were treated like royalty. Our hotel just happened to be a new, recently opened, 5-star property with the best of the best staff hired! Not even joking, we even had our own local host which was pretty much our butler and available 24/7. I will be writing a review on this hotel in my following blog.

Check-in and settling into our room was a breeze! I had even booked our excursions, golf and spa through their pre-arrival concierge – as you know me, I have to plan everything out in advance to the last detail. To my defense, this affects our packing and so it had to be done!!

This brings me to the next topic on my list to write about – drama, since I’ve already covered the two medical situations. Womp, womp :/ Drama, drama, drama…why does it follow me everywhere?!

Sooooo remember those excursions and appointments I made pre-arrival? The hotel had staff onsite called Vacation Makers that handle all reservations and bookings for excursions and tours. Due to my Montezuma’s Revenge sickness, I had to move mountains to reschedule my spa day and cancel one excursion without penalty. All that work upfront, but I just didn’t trust myself to hit up an all day excursion located an hour away after being on meds for only 12 hours. What if I had to go #3? Too risky to chance that biznass! No way, too soon!

If that wasn’t enough drama, I’ve got more!

Vacation makers fuck up #1 – the day I was sick, I sent my husband away on his prearranged golf outing which was 20 minutes away. He was scheduled to be picked up at our hotel at 8am for his 9am tee time. Easy-peasy, right? He waited 1 hour for them to get their shit together and figure out that they forgot to pick him up. In return for his troubles, they gave him a 10% discount. Neat.

Vacation makers fuck up #2 – our one and only excursion (also prearranged) for a VIP tour of Chichen Itza was scheduled for pick up at our hotel at 6:30am with a 2.5 hour car ride to our final destination. Guess who forgot to pick us up again? Guess who was in full hulk rage by 6:45am after asking a lazy AF employee where our ride was? After interrogating the Vacation Maker staff regarding the whereabouts of our transportation in my pissed off icy tone, his response of, “Sorry, but their office doesn’t open until 7am,” was not good enough. He then slowly pretended to dust some fucking décor that didn’t need dusting and in turn I almost went ballistic on his ass!! I held my back my rage as we still had a few days left to stay at the hotel. I really didn’t feel like embarrassing myself and being hauled to a Mexican jail and I was positive that my husband wasn’t going to spend our life savings on bailing me out through bribery. Note to self and others – waking up at 5:30am is pre-hulk for me and one should approach me with caution. HA! In return for our troubles, we were able to reschedule the same VIP tour for the very next day at a 50% discount. Neat times 2.

Since we were fully awake at this point, we decided to catch the sunrise on the beach which occurred around 7:15am. We were able to set up camp with our pick of front row lounge chairs just in time to watch the gorgeousness rise above the horizon and shine its bright rays across the lapping waves. This was such a peaceful atmosphere and it instantly calmed me down as I sat and reveled in the awesomeness of this star.

In the end, the hotel, staff, amazing food and drinks made up for our little mishaps. It also wouldn’t be a normal trip for me if something didn’t go awry or as planned! 🙂


You’re Dead to Me.

Wow, it sure has been awhile! I had to take some time off to plan my wedding! Hopefully I can get my shit together and blog more consistently to share my random, personal, ridiculous, vulnerable, comical, shocking, crazy stories with all of you! HA! Believe me; shit STILL happens to me ALL THE TIME! I constantly shake my head and say, “Are you fucking kidding me?!” or “What the fuck?!” which seems to be my daily chant.

As long as I can remember, I’ve always had a very cutthroat attitude when it comes to trust and relationships – the kind where once you do me wrong, my forgiveness is out the window. This applies to many types of relationships across the board: friends, family, romantic, coworkers, etc. Once that sacred trust is broken, my kindness taken for granted, or my love manipulated and discarded… you can never get it back, ever.

You’re dead to me.

I suppose this hardened approach stems from my fucked up childhood where love (psychological) and basic needs were split between two homes. In my main home, all of my basic needs were met (food/shelter), but this came with a heavy price – the many, MANY years of almost daily mental and physical abuse. While in my weekend home, was the love and care that I was missing 5 out of the 7 days of the week. As you just read, “was” is italicized as that too eventually became broken. This quick excerpt into my past is a preface to my current state and serves as an explanation as to how I operate.

I may sound cynical here, but this cliché is true; during the worst times of your life (or when monumental events occur) is when the true colors of people will be exposed. Unfortunately, these painful lessons learned contribute to my logic of – the older I get, the less peopley I am. My trust (or friend) circle becomes smaller and I choose quality over quantity. I don’t have time for the bullshit, the drama and for those that don’t show the same decency, loyalty and kindness I have showed them. In my world it’s a two-way street with me and if you aren’t operating on my level (friend or family), you can get the fuck out.

Obviously, the “wrong” would have had to be severe enough for me to get to this point, which brings me to some very unsettling and damaging examples that have occurred over the past years. This year in particular, which through very cruel life lessons, I learned that those that were close to me showed their true colors served with a knife in my back. This past year should have been filled with friends and family supporting me with all of the positive things happening, but unfortunately it was filled with betrayal, anguish, turmoil and self-doubt.

Below are a few ghosting lessons worth mentioning…more for my healing process than writing an entertaining story. So if this sounds like complaining, I’m not. It’s therapeutic for me to write…and so I am. #CrabbyAF

Lesson #1 – Ghosting during a crisis (the act of disappearing during extremely tough or worst times of your life).

  • After my breakup of a long term relationship. This felt like more of a divorce based on the length of the relationship, selling our home, and losing friends who chose sides.
  • After leaving companies or jobs.
    • I saw these people every day, day in and day out and once my time ended at that job, many promised to “stay in touch”. HA. #go.step.on.legos
  • My sister’s horrific motorcycle accident
    • My most trying time to date. Just when you need people the most, they drop the ball and kick you while you are down. Still no words exchanged to this day. #ihopeyoudiealone

Lesson #2 – Ghosting upon hearing big, exciting news! (The art of faking your happiness towards someone else and then disappearing altogether.)

  • Engagement
    • After hearing about my engagement, your fake happiness for me was repulsive. Just stop. I misjudged your lack of enthusiasm and interest for your own hardships at the time. Your true colors left me with a knife in my back that I hope to someday repay the favor. #snakeinthegrass #vindictive
  • Wedding
    • My wedding party had included you. All of you. The permanent words said and the lack of words said (ghosting) cut very deep. You were supposed to be a part of my special day and to share in my happiness of one of the best days of my life. The anxiety and hurt from this was a hard lesson to swallow. #stillrecovering
    • Attending my wedding. As immediate family members, you’d think that acknowledging, much less attending, my wedding would be of the utmost importance to you, as it was and would be for me to show the same respect during your time. However, the concept of “family” is hard for you to comprehend and your inability to show decency for your own blood relative is beyond me. You can all suffer in each other’s company. I’m out. #zerofucksleft

Lesson #3 – Ghosting from my life (the classic dick move of casting aside your bond, friendship and family loyalty.)

  • Before moving to MN.
    • Particularly family in this case. When you live in the same city, but you were too caught up in your own life to be a present family member. Your selfish acts rooted a deep wedge between us that has not budged over the years. These same acts have caused an adverse impact on our family and your family. For this I say, “You made your bed, now lie in it”.
  • After moving to MN.
    • Many friends and family swore to keep in touch, visit, and call. Few did. I guess this was a good way to rid myself of selfish assholes that only need you when they need something. #outofsightoutofmind
  • After they start dating someone.
    • Now that they have someone in their life, they have zero time for you – even though you were present during their singledom over the years. Convenient friendship isn’t my jam. When you are single again and you reach out to your old friends, I hope you are shunned and left feeling alone in the world. #eyeforaneye
  • After choosing both sides.
    • When you are caught in the middle of someone else’s conflict and you choose both sides and do your best to comfort all. Then both parties end up turning on you and therefore are left without an entire side of your family. <hands clapping> You deserve each other. I dodged a bullet. #companylovesmisery


If you are feeling guilty of any of these – fuck you, I’ve moved on. You’re dead to me.



Hello Frands!

It’s been awhile and since I can’t come up with any new topics – I figured I would share this article! I found it to be EVERYTHING!

Also, this piece was written from a woman’s perspective but it is most certainly applicable to both sexes!!

DISCLAIMER: It’s censored by the author. Obviously IDGAF!

13 F*cks You Stop Giving When You’re A Grown Woman

 By TheBolde

At some point, you reach an age where you can’t possibly, even if you tried, give any less of a f*ck. You’re done with worrying about what others think, adhering to stupid-ass rules prescribed by stupid ass-people, and you realize who you want in your inner circle and who you want banished forever and ever. It’s not that you’ve become a cantankerous b*tch in your older years, but just that you’ve lived long enough to be f*cking over pretty much everything. In other words, you simply have no more f*cks to give.

Are you to that point in your life? Have you been fortunate enough to have reached the ultimate status of having no more f*cks to give? If so, then you’ll know these 13 f*cks you stop giving to be true.

Gah! Other people’s opinions, especially when they’re about you, should be moot once you’ve become a grown woman. It’s when you let the opinions of others dictate your life that your life becomes a cesspool of negativity and a total waste.

No white after Labor Day? F*ck it. No horizontal stripes unless you’re a size 0? F*ck that f*cking sh*t. No bikini or mini-skirt after 30? In the immortal words of Bikini Kill, suck my left one. Seriously.

You broke up for a reason and that reason is probably somewhere between him being awful and him being the worst, so it’s your job not to give any f*cks about him or what he might think of you.

As a grown ass woman, you’re not just a walk-on in your bedroom, but the f*cking star. If you don’t get what you want and how you want it, you throw being polite out the window and woman-the-f*ck-up about it.

While in your earlier years some situations may have called for biting one’s tongue, it’s time to f*ck that. If someone says or does something that pisses you off or disrespects you in any way, then speak up. Even if that person is your boss.

Some people are bad for us! Some people, even if they’re not cognizant of it, are horrific, toxic influences in our lives. You have no more f*cks to give them or what your life will be like without them – it won’t be a loss, that’s for sure.

Your mistakes do not define you; they’re merely pieces in your life that have made you who you are. That is all. Mistakes do not hold you back, do not open doors to judgment, or ruin your life. They’re necessary obstacles and not only do you not give a f*ck about them, but you’re practically grateful for them.
Some people spend their whole lives trying to fit in only to realize that those who want to belong are just f*cking boring! Why would anyone want to be another sheep among millions of sheep? No thanks. Fly your freak flag and roll solo.

In some not so breaking new, social media is not real life. People “liking” your tweet or “unfriending” you on Facebook is not something to get your panties in a twist over. In other words? You have no f*cks to give on this front.

You have the perfect body for YOU and that’s all that matters. Now reach for those Doritos and order another pizza, for f*ck’s sake woman!

Owning a Louis Vuitton bag or only wearing Chanel makeup is not going to make you a better person. Also, who even knows if that mascara is Dior or f*cking Maybelline?

There will always be things that are out of your control, and when you quit giving a f*ck about them you’ll finally feel free.

In life, you need to choose your battles. You need to decide what deserves your f*cks and what doesn’t. When you give a f*ck, give it 150 percent, when you don’t also give it 150 percent. You should never half-ass anything, especially your f*cks.

Source: TheBolde



Mooooooove, Bitch! Get Out The Way!

For the record, I don’t mind sharing the road with pedestrians, bicycles, cars, pedal pubs, buses, motorcycles, Vespas, Segways, tripod roadsters, skaters, trolleys, strollers, wagons, wheelbarrows, hot wheels, hover boards,  animals, metro transits – basically anything moving that is street or sidewalk legal. I only have issues with those that are assholes and disobey the traffic rules and laws without any regards to consequences or repercussions. When on the street, the traffic laws DO apply to you. For fuck’s sake, look up the laws!

One particular group that gives me insane, white-hot road rage is the dicks on bicycles. Let me repeat, “DICKS ON BICYCLES”, meaning – those that fuck up your safety, others’ safety and their safety while on the road. To be EXTRA clear, if you ride a bike and you aren’t a dick, this doesn’t apply to you.

I’ve had several close encounters with the avid cyclist, cycling clubs, or just plain fucking idiots that appear to be drunk ninjas who come out of nowhere! GO HOME, YOU’RE DRUNK!

There are also times when I am positive that some cyclists are seeking a death wish, set on the side of the road! Not sure if it’s their entitlement (king of the castle) attitude, their mistaken ability of being invincible, or perhaps their arrogant thoughts of “no laws apply to me”.

DISCLAIMER: Of course I wouldn’t want/wish for any deaths or accidents to occur…I WOULD want  for us to all get along, on the road…sharing the road. Sharing is caring.

Tips for the Avid Dick Cyclist:

  • The stop sign/light DOES apply to you
  • If I reach a stop sign, or stoplight, corner before you –> Car > Cyclist
    • I TURN FIRST, Mother Fucker! – Before you proceed with any movement
  • Wear reflective gear at night! Shit, I can’t see in the damn dark – no night vision here!
  • Use your hand signals. If you don’t know them, then you shouldn’t be biking. GTFO!

Tips for the Cycling Club of Dicks:

  • The stop sign/light DOES apply to you
  • Your mass doesn’t grant you immunity from traffic laws
  • Unless the streets are closed for your event, the entire group is required to stop at stop signs/stop lights unless you want to be flattened like “Flat Tyler” or “Flat Pat” (Garbage Pail Kid reference for those born after me)
    • It’s called Law of Motion (Law of Inertia) – Car beats cyclist. Every. Time.

Tips for the Drunk Dick Cyclist:

  • Just one – GO HOME!
    • Take an Uber/Taxi

I understand that I may have offended some people…if so, then you must have been one of those assholes that I passed, while flicking the bird, as you were biking 2 miles per hour on a busy street, in the middle of rush hour, and on a Friday. Moooooooooove, BITCH! I have a GD happy hour to get to!

Share the roads! Obey the traffic laws! Be safe!