What do the unemployed take a vacation from?

It has been three days since I have returned from Puerto Rico and I've already reverted back to my natural ghostly visage (I swear I went outside!).

Puerto Rico was awesome and relaxing and sunny (note: Solar energy is apparently the only thing that fuels my productivity--I got so much done!). Vieques is beautiful and the perfect place to take a vacation because the island doesn't accommodate stress. Vieques will beat the stress out of you.

It's hard to articulate the difference between vacation and unemployment. If you don't have a job-- what are you taking a vacation from? There is a difference, though. People on vacation and the unemployed both have a wealth of time on their hands-- but no one thinks that the unemployed are "living the dream." Also- drinking copious amounts of alcohol is encouraged instead of frowned upon.

When we were in our taxi heading towards the ferry, we were basically treated to a mini-tour of why Vieques is so awesome-sauce. We passed the beaches which are picturesque even when littered with fat tourists- horses grazing alongside the road- and rows of beautiful multi-colored houses. Probably the most idyllic scene was a park full of families flying kites. It was nauseating how beautiful it was.

The adorableness didn't end there. In the ferry we met the acquaintance of a dog that engaged in a series of hilarious hijinks around the terminal and then curled up and nestled under our seats.

Then, by degrees, I noticed that the further we got from comfortable casual sunshiney Vieques-- the shittier things got.

From Something More Fantastical

Riding the ferry to San Juan was only part two of our trek to the airport. We still had to take another taxi from the ferry to the airport... and the ferry was running late.

For some bizarre reason, I chose to spend the first half of the trip inside. Despite having a capacity of at least a hundred people-- there were only three people inside-- with good reason. There was no air circulating through the cabin. None. It was like an awful sweat lodge without the spiritual payoff or fun hallucinations.

Outside (where my clever friends were) it was glorious. Beautiful ocean, nice breeze, and two men emptying their guts over the railing.

We were late getting to the airport and had to get a later flight out. The lady at the desk was successful in getting us a flight back but for reasons unknown, she didn't think Wayne and I deserved seat assignments on second leg of our flight.

Way to cast a cloud of anxiety over our trip, ma'am.

The flight from Puerto Rico to Charlotte was interesting. They played a safety video instead of having the flight attendants perform the demonstration for us. I noticed that the spanish version is significantly shorter than the english version. This could mean one of two things a) English people need to be coddled and have the obvious spelled out for them b) the spanish version just suggests you sit tight and make a raft out of the people who still need to be told how buckle their seat belt.

Also, just to calm everyone down, Puerto Ricans like to pump exhaust fumes into the cabin during the safety speech. Nothing mellows people out more than a little light carbon monoxide poisoning.

The flight from Charlotte to Greensboro wasn't very notable except the plane just dropped out of the sky every five minutes. We had to fly through a series of thunderstorms so there was mega-turbulence and we basically cut a chaotic cosine through the skies.

And as soon as the wheels touched down on the tarmac, the skies opened up and it has pretty much been cold and rainy ever since.

Also- it snowed today.

WTF?

Bye-bye, Vieques