Note To Self: You're A Fucking Moron

When you go on vacation, particularly a vacation that lacks adults, and instead, includes 2 10 year olds, and 1 16 year old, always, always, always bring your ID so you can get shit-face wasted one night. Or even just indulge in a beer Smirnoff after a long day.

Last week, I packed up the car, shoved 3 girls in it, and put 995 miles on my car over the course of 6 days. On day 1, we stopped at a gift shop, and I got asked to see my ID when I used my debit card. I searched, and didn't find it, so I used cash.

I then had Minion 1 search my purse while I drove.

Guess what wasn't in it? My ID. My first thought?

No Hot Ass Bartender Dave for me. 

Feel my pain, everyone. Feel it.

Luckily, on day 2, my husband's cousin E came up, and even though she's like 7 years younger than me, I had her buy me a 6 pack for the trip. Ok, 2 six packs. Plus the one we shared that night. Fine, there were 3 six packs involved, of which she drank 2, and I brought home like 7 of, so you do the math.

ETA: I should clarify. She drank 2 drinks on the first night. I came home with 7 bottles. That means I drank enough to remain pleasant all week.

There was one very fun day at the beach, in which I think I drank 4, but to be fair, what we were doing was walking out into the water, and sharing which ever 1 we brought out, so, really- she drank like 3/4 of one, and I had the rest.

I also met Harry Potter. Or Daniel Radcliff. Or, really, neither. But E's guy? Totally looks like them. We call him Harry. Or Cubby.

I fucking ROWED A BOAT, ya'll. I haven't done that since I was like 10. We drove way the fuck up into No Man's Land. AKA- the Northern UP. We wanted to see waterfalls, but to get to them? Yes, a boat. Across a river with a current.

But? Totally fucking worth it. We got to walk right in the waterfalls, play in the water, and frolick like the fat little fairy I am.

And did you notice the hair? Blond for the first time in about 10 years. Also? Small tid-bit. Natural color, ya'll That shit is what I should look like.

We went and heard some haunted tails at a historic park. The dude above told us some stories. I can't even begin to tell you what the story was about, because once I noticed it, I could not just make it go away.

See the photo below to see what I mean.

Thigh highs, a long shirt posing as a dress, and a loin cloth? We decided he's ready to go clubbing, Mackinaw style.

I will simply leave you with that thought. You can scrub your eyeballs out later. Also? Already planning next year's visit. This time with more booze, more hot ass bartender Dave, and a cabin, not a fucking tent. A cabin. With walls.

Because, incidently? We suffered through TWO nasty thunderstorms, and discovered at 4am during the first one, that our tent was NOT waterproofed. It took a lot of wet towels and blankets, a tarp, and some cursing to not lose my cool that morning.

However, before storm 2, I secured tarp #1 better, added tarp #2 to the back corner where it was coming in the worst, and I used up the last of both my seam sealer, and waterproofing spray to help keep dry. It totally fucking worked, too.

I'm magic like that. I shoulda been in Magic Mike, ya'll, I'm so magic.