Home again, home again jiggety jog

One of the things that is hard about doing anything in a group is that you are trying to do shit in a group. People, you might find, do not agree on…most things.

Dinner.
Where to have coffee.
What do do after breakfast.
If you should go to church.
If universal healthcare is a right or a waste of money.
If this lipstick is too bright.
Whatever.

If you are with nothing but reasonable human beings who communicate effectively, it can all be navigated.

If you are with even one person who is unwilling to compromise…it gets tricky.

If you are with a bunch of really nice people who aren’t willing to say what they think. Tricky.

If you are with a group who doesn’t think the group should ever be divided. Tricky.

Double tricky for intoxication, marital strife or in-laws.

Bonus points if any of the people are fundamentally solitary while some others are fundamentally pack creatures. Especially if the pack creatures do not want the solitary ones to ever wander off alone. The amount of time before the solitary ones crack will vary, but they will definitely crack if not left alone.

In Cabo, we had a mix of people who got along great and were very tolerant if people wanted to wander off on their own.

Who, me?
Four days before I crack, max.
Two days if the company is not that congenial in other ways.
Raises hand to confess she does not always play well with others.

How’d I do in Cabo?
Mostly Ok, I think.

You should ask the people I was with.
I don’t know.
I’m not a good judge of my own behavior. I think I’m weird.

Last day in Cabo

Part of the group has already headed home. Rick, Chelle and Kevin went to the beach. Mark and I hung out by the pool in the morning until we just couldn’t keep up with the drinks arriving any more. Mark is napping while I hang out on the balcony watching the wind in the palms. Or the occasional sea lion swimming by at the marina. The occasional Cabo police officer riding by on his Segway. Pelicans pestering every boat that comes in.

I haven’t had anything in my feet besides flip flops for a week.

Pretty rough.

I’m glad I’ll have another week off once we get home.

My liver will need the rest. Right after the Super Bowl.

Dinner at Panchos. We got progressively larger bowls of pico del gallo until we stopped asking for more.

Then drinks at Jungle Bar. I played stump the online juke box. Nice to hear Ligabue and CSI. in Cabo. We played “Too Drunk to Fuck…” Mark thought there should be a Partridge Family version.

Brief stop at Cabo Wabo and back to the hotel.

Home again tomorrow night.
I’m going to have to do things like wear shoes and coats again. I am not sure I’m ready for that.

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Who the fuck are you calling bleary, fucker?

Much to my surprise there she was, sittin’ in a corner
A little bleary, worse for wear and tear
Was a girl with far away eyes
–Rolling Stones/Far Away Eyes

Some of us might possibly have had a little bit more fun than was strictly good for us. Now, I don’t want to mention any names here. What happens in Cabo stays in Cabo, but in the spirit of true honesty…holy fuck.
That chick in the mirror can NOT hold her tequila.

I kind of lost count of my drinks, in all fairness to myself. I must have had a dozen or more Micheladas at the pool. Josefat was bringing them in pairs. And then we had drinks at dinner. And, uh, after dinner. So. The headache will not be a shock.

Important side note: Kyle, Lori and Chica are leaving in the morning. Miss them all ready.

There is not an Advil big enough for the headache I think I might have in the morning.

Worth it?

Fuck yeah.

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