I suck at taking vacation photos. That is a fact. I have never been a shutter bug and I currently don’t even own a camera, digital or otherwise. Back in the day, in the prehistoric era when dinosaurs roamed the Earth and people couldn’t look right at a photo you just took and say, “Oh my god. I look so fat. Delete that.”, I used to buy disposable cameras.
I would buy them and use them and then promptly forget about them. At some point I would come across one and go, “Hmm. I wonder what’s on this camera?”, and I would put it in a canvas bag in my closet.
That bag currently has almost 30 undeveloped disposable cameras. My goal is to one day hit the lottery and take them, en masse, to get them developed. I figure it would be like a pictorial history of my life, up to a point. Every holiday, vacation, and memorable event that I wanted to capture on film, up until I got a cell phone that included a camera.
At that point, my phone became the way I would capture precious memories. Jr’s school plays, Christmas morning, family vacations, Mavblings first pictures, and the occasional dirty sext to Mavrick. All handily captured on my phone, and then either emailed to myself to keep forever, or deleted before I would happen to lose my phone and give some random stranger the chance to catch a peep of my bling-a-ling.
And this is why when Mavrick and I went to Sante Fe, this is literally the only picture we took:
That is Mavrick in one of those photo props where you go behind it and it looks like you are in a truck. But really you are at the Sante Fe History Museum, and they have this little prop there, and your girlfriend thinks it would be hilariously funny if you got in there and she took your picture and that’s the only picture taken in Sante Fe. Sante Freaking Fe. One of the most picturesque cities in America. And that’s all we got.
Which is very similar to our vacation to Charleston, SC. Easily my favorite city in the US, right up there with Savannah. LOVE Charleston. It’s gorgeous, historic, on the Ocean… it was also mine and Mavrick’s first ‘real’ vacation together. And we got this gem of a photo to commemerate it:
That’s right. That’s me, pointing to the manager’s name of a Ruby Tuesday’s somewhere on the way to South Carolina. Somehow, I don’t think this is going to end up being our Christmas card.
But at least there are people in those. Which is more than I can say for the one picture we have capturing our Toronto trip.
Yes. A martini. World class city, hell, we went to a gay bar and saw a hot Trannie review, and the only picture we manage to get is a freaking martini.
But I was determined that we get some damn pictures of our Cancun trip. (Sidenote: the only thing that bummed me out about this vacation was that jr. could not be with us. It was the only dark spot on an otherwise perfect vacation.) It was Mavbling’s first real trip, and hello, it was Cancun for fuck’s sake.
The whole purpose of the trip was to celebrate Mavrick’s dad and stepmom’s (Golf League and Nora Roberts, for those new to the blog) 25th wedding anniversary. They were paying for all of us to come and stay in an all-inclusive resort. The whole family was coming in, including Mavrick’s stepbrother, stepsister, and their respective families. All in all, there were 12 of us there.
I can tell you that a good time was had by all. I can tell you that me and his sister may or may not have pole danced. I can tell you that if we did, and even if I did have pictures, I would not post them. Out of respect. Respect and fear. Did I mention she boxes?
I can tell you that I only had to get carried out of a club once. I can tell you that I love his family, that all inclusive resorts are the shit, and that I love Cancun and all of its people.
I can also tell you that we have pictures! Not because of anything I did, but rather, Mavrick’s stepsister. Let’s call her Ali. Because she boxes. Since the whole family was together, she arranged for a family portrait session. On the beach. The results were amazing.
That’s one of my favorites. And the whole family looked fantastic. It was a great idea, and she picked a great photographer.
We also borrowed her husband’s camera. Let’s call him Babs, because that’s actually my nickname for him in real life. Thanks to him, we were able to capture some beautiful shots of the baby on our last day there.
And, thanks to the restaurant we went to our last night there, we have this family photo gem:
As you can see, we look like real, authentic Mexican banditos. Except not at all. But that’s okay! We had a blast, and we did these flaming shot thingys. Well, the grown ups did. Not so much the kids. That we saw anyway.
So our vacation was marvelous, AND we got the photos to prove it! WOO HOO! I’m going to go ahead and call that a win. That and the fact that I didn’t get arrested.