My Bathing Suit Will Blind You

KPEACE:

My neon yellow bathing suit actually hurt to look at in the sun. Ok, and yeah I also just wanted to show you that sunset, which isn’t funny at all.

Soooo, 2 weeks ago I arrived in the Saint Thomas Airport wearing this:


I was coming from Southern California. Don’t even ask.

After a slightly rocky, at times funny but just not funny enough, relationship with Peru I decided it was time for me to move on. So after a super sunny fantastic week in Santa Barbara, I headed to the Caribbean to island hop… On a sailboat. #Mylifeisajoke.

On one of the nights we anchored the boat overnight, it was fairly windy and I was feeling a bit more than queasy, so I opted to go to bed at 8 (yikes). I woke up a short hour later to a boat that was rocking to one side and then coming down and slapping the water hard on the other side. Over and over and over. Not a pleasant feeling. While it was doing this ridiculous rocking thing, the wind was also BLOWING THE BOAT IN 360 CIRCLES. Are you kidding? Imagine being rocked back and forth and spun around in circles, all while you’re trying to sleep. Hours later I finally fall asleep. Only to be woken up by pounding rain at 3am. Never ever will I sleep on a boat in a storm again thanks.

Then there is the fact that my father turned into an all out frat boy. To make matters worse, he wasn’t ever a frat boy. This was something like his 17th or 18th trip down to the BVI. And on this last trip, he completely reverted back to his 20’s. Drinking absurd amounts of beer and keeping the bottle caps so he can count precisely how many beers. He also stole this:


from the bar and DIDN’T EVEN REMEMBER actually taking it until days later when the bar tender asked for it back. Yeah, ok dad.

One of the first nights there, the boats “captain” took us to dinner with his friends. They showed up to pick us up in this car:

Yes, he was actually holding the broken rear view mirror onto the windshield while the driver backs up. Not dangerous or anything.

Then we go to dinner which is all fine and dandy until it’s time to go. One of the guys left their almost untouched ribs on the table and I went to pick up the to go container for him. It was so heavy that the top opened and all his ribs fell onto the ground. The ribs he had carefully saved for the next day. Oops. To make matters worse I couldn’t stop laughing while I was attempting to apologize. This was right up there with the time I kicked the waxing lady in the chest. I am a winner.

Our next stop that evening was a bar called the Bomba Shack. It was literally a shack on the side of the road right over the water. Bra’s and underwear hanging from every surface. For some reason this is one of the most well known bars on Tortola. Anyways, here it is in all it’s glory (a picture from the following morning):I was so far out of my comfort zone… I can’t wait to return to the frat houses I am way too comfortable in.

At some point my sister and I went in search of the bathroom. This is what we came across:

Ok, really? Two toilets with no stall doors. This is taking the whole bathroom buddy thing to a whole new (unecessary) level. Just really awkward.

One of my last nights there we ate at a restaurant where I drank Champagne Mojitos (BEST DRINK EVER) while watching the most ridiculously cool moon rise:

That should be a joke. I love my camera. No joke.

I’M GOING TO BURLINGTON ON THURSDAY. I’M GOING TO BURLINGON. BURLINGTONNNN.

More jokes soon.

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