Easter Weekend or How I Gained Twenty Pounds in Three Days

Have you ever noticed that vacations kind of revolve around eating and laying around like a sloth? And if you're lucky and you found someone whose bones you want to jump there's a bit of that mixed in there too? Yeah, that's pretty much what our weekend in Santa Barbara was all about. Ridiculous amounts of food, epic twenty hour long naps and lots and lots of lovins. I was a 'tard and left the camera home so I only have shitty crackberry pics to remember all the gorging and sleeping with but they're mildly entertaining nonetheless.

K and I were halfway to SB Thursday night around eight when I mentioned with a bit of urgency that I was probably going to piss myself if we didn't make a stop. Lucky for me we were just a stop away from a strip mall with all of Middle America's favorite dining spots. There was an Outback and a Chilis, the Golden Arches and maybe most special of all... a Red Lobster. Papa was an RL virgin so I insisted we pit stop at the swap meet of seafood restaurants. I planned on dashing in to use the pissa and make a quick getaway- K had other plans. As I exited the icky girl's room I noticed my man sitting at the bar with two cocktails and a menu. What the fuck? Working at Cheesecock Factory for all those years really soured me on chain restaurants and the diva in me considered Red Lobster the ass end of casual dining- suffice to say I wasn't real excited about the big guy popping a squat at the crappy bar and perusing the menu.

"What are you doing babe?" I asked hoping he was reading the menu for pleasure rather than purpose.

"What do you mean? Why don't we just get a little nosh or something? We haven't had dinner and we still have a way to drive," he responded as if the food coming out of the kitchen would be safe to consume.

"Uh... yeah... okay. We could just get a little bite. I mean, it can't be terrible right?" I asked rhetorically knowing whatever we ordered would likely taste like a shit sandwich.

Because we were near the water and with the wishful thinking that the oysters would probably be fresh and delicious, that's what we ordered. K and I are kind of food freaks and don't shy away from trying all kinds of uncooked ocean creatures whenever we dine out. We shouldn't have applied that thinking to the craptastic culinary creations of Red Lobster. The oysters were the size of small children and the consistency of what I can only imagine human organs to be like. I felt like fucking Hannibal Lector and I could hardly swallow one down before we unanimously decided to get the hell out of dodge and hurry to our resort and room service.

The next morning we went to Solvang, a little Dutch town transplanted to Southern California. K took his kiddies there a couple weeks back and his daughter got this pancake that was twice the size of her head and the most delicious thing to grace the planet so I was kind of obligated to get one too. It was pretty amazing.

He loves being the constant subject of my photos.

After breakfast we went shopping for little chotckes for the kiddie's Easter baskets. K found this puppet and wasted no time making him say all kinds of inappropriate things to me. I loved it.

After a long day of shopping for the babes we rewarded ourselves with some wine tasting. Once I made the mistake of telling Kelly he reminded me of Doc from Back to the Future when he has a mad case of hat hair. He channels his inner Doc whenever he has the chance to humiliate me in public. Clearly I'm pissed.

The vineyards on our drive back to the resort. The day couldn't have been more perfect.

Kelly told me I looked like a 60's diva. I have no idea what he meant but I have a hunch it means I'm hot.

The next day we spent hours by the pool playing Scrabble. I'm sad to report that Kelly sufficiently kicked my ass both rounds. That explains the silly shit eating grin on his face.

Hours of fun by the pool + ghost legs that haven't seen the light of day since high school= third degree burns. I spent most of Saturday night slathered in aloe vera and whining. Kelly was the best nurse a girl could ask for. He rubbed me down, ordered me dinner in bed and didn't tell me to stop bitching once. In return I helped with the Easter baskets.

Even in pain I'm still smiling. I'm a smitten kitten.