How come I end up where I went wrong?

[constance]

Three months ago:

Mom: I'm scheduling a family vacation for us before my surgery. Any requests? Anything you don't want?

Me: You know I'm easy. But I don't do all that well at the beach, so all other things being equal--

Mom: Yeah, your father doesn't like beaches much either. I'll see what beachless things we can come up with.

Two months ago:

Mom: Well, the good news is that the trip's all booked.

Me: Oh, good! So where are we going?

Mom: Um. The beach. But it's St. Simons Island! There'll be lots to do apart from the beach. Shopping and activities on the island. It's beautiful and historic!

Me: Huh. Well, okay then.

Tonight:

Mom: Are you bringing a swimsuit?

Me: Nah. It's gonna be too chilly for that, and sun and sand don't agree with me. I don't really have any plans that don't involve reading on the deck and exploring the island.

Mom: ...Oh.

Me: What?

Mom: It's just that there's not a whole lot to do on the island. It's not going to take too long to explore.

Me. -_-

All this is to say. I'm leaving for vacation tomorrow, and I was planning on being busy, but now that I know I've been totally suckered by an expert con artist, I'm thinking that if there's internet it might very well seem as though I never left. So I'm not saying goodbye; we'll just see how it goes, yeah? Yeah.

Comments

[coco-palmolive.livejournal.com]

Back when my sister worked for the resort management company, years and years ago, I always wanted to go to St. Simons Island (for free, of course). It looks pretty! Instead, it was always Destin, and I would watch Behind the Music marathons day after day, watching as ill luck came to claim bands I always hated. In short: I recommend cable television.

[tofty.livejournal.com]

You know, I thought I remembered you talking about St. Simons at one point! And then I thought I must have dreamed it or something, which is exactly the sort of dream I usually have, you sending me an email about possibly going on a vacation to Georgia. It's good to know that it actually happened.

My mother brought me a bunch of old pictures this week, some of which were of my beautiful, beautiful bedroom on Inverness. Like, the graffiti wall, and the blue shag carpet, and the lava lamp, and and the furniture that I painstakingly painted a hideous blue and white. I have no idea why I took the pictures -- possibly it was when we moved and I wanted to remember that room FOREVER, but I'm glad to have them. I loved that room so much.