Saturday morning we drove up to the north side of Indy to do a little river tubing. 

In all honesty, rivers gross me out. Most lakes do as well. I have minimal appreciation for bodies of water that aren't clear enough to see my feet.... And that lack sand.... And no one even brings you fruity little drinks with umbrellas... 

Anyways we threw down $15 a person to get a big, fancy, backrest-included tube, and hopped aboard a tiny party bus with approximately 79 other people who had the same idea as us. 

It was somewhere around 1pm when we dropped in the river, for an anticipated 2-3 hour float downstream. 


The funny thing is, 4 1/2 hours later, we were still floating. Clearly the current realized we needed a little more time to chill and decided to be nonexistent that day. It was all fun and games until about that 3 hour mark when we realized not only were we well on our way to drunk, but we were also well on our way to starving.

On the plus side, Indy is in the middle of a polar vortex of some sort, so what would normally be a 90somethin, full sun July afternoon was only about a high70somethin overcast day and we were all spared of lobster bellies and extreme dehydration. 

I'd chalk it up as another successful Saturday in the books. 


Mixer & Mingle Fridays: Gimme some lovin', Honey

I swear my parents used to slip me whiskey for more than just teething. I mean, they won't admit to it and rightfully so... I'm sure CPS has some sort of after-the-fact rule where they can still throw you in jail and take your offspring away at the age of 26 but, between you and I... I had to have been raised on it. 

Sometimes you just need somethin a little bit sweeter though, and that's where Honey whiskey whisked me off my feet (see what I did there?) 

When that amber liquid gets all chummy with some lemonade.... hubba hubba. I've seen a plethora of other recipes involving honey whiskey but let's be real, on most occasions when I'm mixing I like to keep it simple!

Try it, you'll like it. Promise. 

(The fine print: drink responsibly, don't be dumb, not a sponsored post, my own opinion, brand names/imagery/etc is property of it's respective owner, and so on and so forth) 


Just a little bit more

A few months ago I made the mistake of having my mom (oh the perks of your mother owning a salon/being a hairdresser your whole life!) throw a few highlights in my hair.

Apparently no one felt the need to tell me that bleach is a real life addiction, and every four'ish weeks (this mop grows like a weed) I find myself sitting in that chair saying 'just a little bit more'.

The problem here, is that my hair has been every color under the sun, except blonde. I've never wanted to be a "blonde". I'll still adamantly deny that I'm a blonde. More like a caramel cafe mocha latte brunette, 2% skim. But I'm approaching the roots stage again and teetering on big life decisions, like do I 'add a little bit more' or do I revert back to my dark haired lady ways?

I did spend a good majority of my childhood as a lightheaded brat, might as well let it stick around for a while, eh?

Life's so full of hard decisions. 

(How do I keep my hair from turning to beach & bleach induced straw? This.)


Going back home: reflections on Negril

Another week in my second home has come and gone. I distinctly remember floating on that neon yellow raft Tuesday afternoon thinking 'this is fantastic, for once a vacation is actually not flying by. We've still got 4 more days here' and then I jinxed myself and someone hit fast forward and I'm waking up to a dreaded alarm at 6:ungodly30 AM Saturday morning stumbling into the shower so I don't smell like a walking drug lord, attracting every police dog at the airport. 

*It feels crucial to note here that smokin the dope stick isn't my jam, however I was at a local beach bar the night before where it was nearly everyone else's jam. And boy does that scent linger in your hair.*

Everyone always asks why I keep going back to Jamaica.... why I don't retire that 1552 mile trek after 8 visits. And sometimes I wonder it myself. Until I walk into the hotel and see Jamaican Husband come running across the patio as he grabs me in his arms. I wonder it until we're walking along the beach and play catch up with so many familiar faces of the locals. Until we're on a boat to go snorkeling and realize one of the crew members is the same one I sat atop the catamaran with 2 years ago soaking up the sun.

So I guess the real reason I keep wanting to go back, is because those strangers have become my family. While there were 16 of us that traveled down there, we really had a group of about double that size that hung out every day. It was nearly impossible to walk more than 10 minutes without seeing someone you knew, playing conversation catch up since the last time you were down in Negril. I don't just vacation in Negril anymore, I go back home to Negril! 


Each trip we spend less time at the resort, and more time wandering around "real" Jamaica. Each time I fall more and more in love with that little island country. 

Per usual, airfare scouting for the next trip 'home' has already begun. Until then, it's been real Negril 


Wednesday Confessions

I'm really struggling to get back into the swing of things after a week in the islands.

It didn't help that as soon as I was back in the homeland I learned that my grandpa had been in the hospital since midweek. While I understand the reason no one reached out to us (as there truly was nothing we could have done) it's still a bitter pill to swallow that you're gallivanting around getting drunk on a beach having a blast while he has been in a hospital bed suffering.

On the plus side, as we round out a week of him in the hospital things are improving. And (fingers crossed) they might be ruling out surgery and sending him home soon. Feel free to send good juju.

Since today is apparently on the upward swing, I found out this morning I won a little contest at work. I'm more excited about the recognition and bragging rights, but the gift card is also a nice little added bonus.

On that note, I think I'm certifiably one of those "I love my job" people. Are those people annoying? I try not to shout it from the rooftops much, but I truly do enjoy coming into the house of booze & doing what I do every day. 

Feel free to gag.

I caught up with the Jamaican hubs last week, and was gifted a new wedding ring after I accidentally broke my first one. What a good man he is. 3.5 years later and he still puts up with me. 

Oh and I really, really love Jamaica. After 8 trips down there I still really love it. A lot. Pink puffy heart style. Can I go back now? 

This isn't really a confessions post anymore, instead just a blab fest. Hey, it's been a while!

I'm hosting a dinner party for all my girlfriends tomorrow, to kick off my patio... the terrible story of THAT mess hasn't debuted on the blog yet, but lemme tell you... this patio has been a labor of love. And it deserves a party just to break it in! 

I better actually go do some real work, before they decide to take my contest award away. 


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