A Caribbean Paradise

Being from a "Jack Mormon" family I truly know what it means to travel "Mormon Style". A style that tries to maximize everything while trying to be cheap as Hell.

Cheap as Hell Mormon style has a few rules to follow:

1-Do not eat at any place over ten dollars per person.

2-Try to split any meal with at least two other people.

3-When staying in a hotel try to fit at least 3 to 4 people in one room.

4-If a grocery store and kitchen are available, buy all canned food as cheaply as possible. Preferably something with cream in it. (Mormons love cream; cream of chicken, cream of mushroom-well you get the point)

Keeping all this in mind, all thirteen of us (I probably forgot someone or added an extra person) we traveled to Puerto Rico. Our first excursion was hiking the rain forest and swimming in pools with a tumbling waterfall. My dad always manages to hurt himself in one way or another. This time he jumped around in the pool with genuine glee with all the other children and somehow smashed his chest on a sharp rock. He didn't seem too happy after that, his smile rapidly faded and his chest was a crimson red. It looked painful.

After exiting the rain forest and with a wet swimsuit, one of my favorite things to walk around in, we crammed into a small plane and like a mosquito, buzzed over to Vieques island. As we took off, my sister-in-law started screaming. I'm not sure if it was because of the fear of flying or knowing she would be trapped on the island with my entire family for a week?

Arriving at the rented house I noticed a towering fence and barb wire around it. I wondered why the wire was pointing in rather than out.....was it trying to keep people in?

I still like to fondly refer to the house as the "Sanders Family Compound" where people can get in , but they can't get out. Maybe my sister had tricked us into thinking this was a vacation, but really she had checked us all into a loony bin?

With good behavior, we had outdoor time on the beach. Playing in the surf, finding shells, and snorkeling.

I'm afraid to get to close to any sea life. It can either bite, sting, or possibly eat you. None of which I would think I would enjoy. Seeing a sting-ray was amazing. but did nothing to reassure my nerves. No one could hear my panicked screams through my snorkel. What good is screaming if you can't get a reaction?

When visualizing a Caribbean paradise one pictures clear sapphire water and sandy tropical beaches. Imagationing perfection. But I bet they left out the mosquitoes.

Mosquitoes are the enemy. Dousing my body with spray, and I'm not talking about the wimpy stuff, but the Deet birth-defect causing stuff, the mosquitoes would still swarm, refusing to leave any inch of my virgin skin unmarked. At times I could feel my body growing weak as they sucked the life out of me, I would open my mouth to cry out in desperation, and would suck their tiny bodies into my lungs. I was pissed and I mean pissed. I was determined not to let these bastards get me down. It was war.

Using all my brain power to out think them, I again hosed my body down with spray, camouflaged my skin with pants, a high neck jacket, and sprayed over the top of my armor, never minding that it was sweltering outside. At one point I broke down and cried...they were still everywhere, their nests lodged into each pocket of damp grass. I howled and flapped my arms, as other tourists curiously watched my exorcism freak show.

I managed to come away from the trip with at least sixty-five bites on just my two legs. Megan, my sister said, "You look like Quazimoto, but your face will probably heal normally after a few weeks."

I smiled weakly at her encouraging words, one eye swollen and two fresh bumps forming on my cheek.

Funny on a family vacation how you want to spend time with each other at the start but by the end you can't wait to get away. You decide you need a vacation from a vacation.

Those who know me, know that I have to find the sarcasm in every story, but this was a beautiful trip and irreplaceable time with my family. I feel so grateful to be able to see my niece and nephews play in the ocean. They grow up so fast, while we grow older. It's the moments like these that make life happy and make us forget all the hardships-divorce, mosquitoes, and whatever "stuff" comes our way.

The Strange Pervert in the Corner

Learning to be single and alone can be tough. It takes some readjusting. I thought I was well on my way to mastering "aloneness" by having taken myself out to dinner without pretending to be reading or texting. I could eat alone and just eat.

Then I discovered that being alone in Vegas is a whole different ball game.

Wondering around the casinos I noticed that everyone was either in a couple or a group. It was Junior High all over again. I was the odd woman out.

I would get inquisitive stares. It was like a lone man wondering around a park full of children, people can't help but think he might be a pervert. I felt that being single and alone in Vegas stirred the same reaction. What would someone be doing in Vegas by themselves?

When sitting down for dinner the host always puts me in some dark corner, probably so I would not be embarrassed by my "aloneness". I feel like I should be wearing a hoodie and dark sun glasses, a cigarette dangling from my lips. Like a "Strange Pervert in the Corner."

Strolling through Caesar's Palace I discovered I was the perfect target for people selling stuff along the Colosseum shops. One salesman was so persistent I agreed to try the latest lotion claiming to make my skin look younger.

Smiling, he gently applied the lotion to my arm and nonchalantly mentioned in a foreign accent. "I would like to rub this lotion all over your body."

I smiled and wormed my arm away. Giggling nervously, I said I had a reservation and scurried off. He shouted after me to come back after dinner so we could continue, which I could only imagine what exactly that would entail.

Eating at Sushi Roku I could see from my table the "Lotion Man" trying to reel in other people. I noticed there was no way around him and my only escape would be walking past his booth.

I desperately schemed how I would pass him without grabbing his attention again. I noticed an exit just outside of the restaurant and slightly to the right. If I stuck close to the wall I could slip away undetected.

Finishing the last few bites of sushi and paying the bill, I dashed to my escape. Sticking to the wall as planned, I was just about to the exit, when my foot slipped.

I was falling forward.

"Shit", I loudly exclaimed.

I hit the ground hard.

My body slapping the floor echoed through the mall. Blank faces turned to gaze in my direction. I cursed myself for not seeing the steps.

I had been spotted.

Trying to regain my composure, I nodded to "Lotion Man" and continued out the door. So much for slipping away undetected.

Maybe I'm not as comfortable eating alone as I believed. And maybe not my eating alone had earned me the title of "Strange Pervert in the Corner", but my actions of an awkward escape?