All my bags are almost packed and I'm ready to go... I'm going to be standing here outside my sister's door. Cause I'm leaaaaaving on a cruise ship don't think I'll wanna come back again... In only 2 short days we will be headed to Galveston, Tx to board the infamous "poop cruise" ship. Our stops are in Progreso and Cozumel respectively. After all of the planning, prepping and meetings it's finally almost time to go. I am not nervous about the ship one bit. But just in case, I'm bringing wipes and a friend is bringing a suitcase of depends for all of us. 10 women in 5 cabins could get stinky. As the last few days count down, I'm increasingly more excited. The one thing I want to experience is as cliche as it comes. Blue waters and white sand. I want palm trees, I want a cabana boy, and I want cocktails. Thankfully I heard about a private beach with all of the above. If the reviews find my expectations live up to the hype, you may never see me stateside again. Forward all mail to My Personal Paradise care of: Sailor Jerry.
I find my biggest issue with the whole vacation is packing. I am doubting even my own tight packing list. I researched this subject to death. Dresses, check. Comfy shoes, check. Electrical strip outlet and exstension cord, check. My issue doesn't even extend to clothes. It seems my cosmetics are the issue. They are requiring an entire suitcase of their own. Not that it's all makeup. I plan on wearing little to none. But it's the sunblock, aloe, meds, and other sundries that are rapidly filling up my luggage. I think I have an addiction to health and beauty products. Honestly, I can see instances where I will need every item in my medicine cabinet. Some worry about over packing clothing and I'm worried about looking like a walking Walgreens. Antacid, pepto, Advil, anti itch creme, visine, swimmers ear, first aid kit, and many other various items I suddenly realize I shouldn't go wandering away from home without. The people scanning my bag are going to think I'm a hypochondriac. Even with my doubts, I'm not willing to leave these items behind. I'd rather be safe than sorry.
We still have a few things to do before we shove off. Important things like getting fresh pedicures with nautical themes. You know, important things. I recently purchased an esalon personalized hair color kit. It's kinda cool. You order what you want after filling out a survey and they send it to you. In my case, a personal "hair color expert" gave me a call and asked me a few further questions. She didn't know that I have been a bottle red head since 1996. She had no idea that I know the shades of red I prefer. I'm no noob. But she convinced me that with my skin tone and natural hair color I shouldn't go for the "watch out I'm a hot redhead" color I normally go for. She suggested a tamer red, but still very red she insisted. She tried to explain about the developer levels and such. I wanted to say "B*tch, I know all this!" But I refrained. So three days after I ordered my custom coloring package arrived.
Now, honestly, this package was awesome. It had all the bells and whistles. Nice gloves, coconut oil stain preventer for around the hairline, stain removing towelette, and shampoo and a conditioner to boot. The whole package was impressive and well put together. With the utmost confidence, I drew and quartered my hair and began coloring my new growth. After waiting ten minutes for that to develop, I colored the remainder of my hair. I was a bit worried that it wasn't red enough at this point. But I stuck with it till the end. Even when they told me to mix equal parts water with the remainder of the second bottle for an extra glossy step, I kept the faith.
After 15 more minutes, I took the watered down bottle in the shower with me, and applied it as suggested. This is where it I nearly die in my shower thanks to hair color fumes. Nope, not kidding. It says to apply the watered down mix and lather like a shampoo for up to two minutes. Except it doesn't tell you this is a race for your life, and death awaits you with your now *super* shiny hair. My god! The fumes! My throat and eyes burned worse than living next door to a delish hot sauce factory. it took several moments after I was rinsed out to get a good clean breath in. If the choices are super shiny hair or death by chemical inhalation, I choose cake. In the end, the color wasn't as red as I prefer, but it is alright. To be perfectly honest, was it worth $10? Yes, was it worth $20? No. But I have to say, my hair is pretty darn shiny!
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