To Sum Up...

My spring break can basically be described with three phrases:

1. Family/Jack
2. Bug bites
3. Party Hat

I left immediately after school on Friday and didn't come back until yesterday evening. Nothing could have ruined my trip, not even the hundreds of bug bites I got all over my body while in Florida. Hundreds? Yes, hundreds. I counted thirty-five on the lower half of one arm before I fell asleep in the sun. I look like I just fought off a deadly bout of the chicken pox, with slightly raised pink scars covering my legs, torso, neck, and face. Face? Yes, face. I had a string of about twenty going up my neck and onto my left cheek like a chicken pox hickey. And I had one on my nose.

But, like I said, nothing could ruin this trip. It was a well-needed break from my crazy class AND a reminder of the beginning of the end, a benchmark showing only 34 days remaining.

Bookending the vacation was some time spent in Greenville with Jack. The first weekend really initiated him into South Carolina lifestyle. He got to see genuine Southern hospitality (several rounds of drinks on the jolly Clemson family sitting with us at the Hibachi grill, including Patron shots and hot sake). I made him go to a Waffle House for the first time, where we got VIP seats at the breakfast bar in the smoking session. I was unaware that you could still smoke in restaurants anywhere in the United States (or the world for that matter), but if I had to guess the one state where you could, SC would be the first. I'm also convinced that in order to open a Waffle House, one of the stipulations is that everything in and around the vicinity of the building must be at least fifteen years old- the menus, the waffle irons, the waitresses' wigs.

Greenville is actually awesome. For some reason, I pictured it being more rural and run-down, but it has a cute little tree-lined main street with a lot of good restaurants, bars, and shops. Plus my boyfriend lives there, which gives it a lot of points.

Monday meant goodbye to Jack and hello to ten hours in the car listening to NPR and wondering how much better your gas mileage gets if you turn off your AC. I only tested that theory for about 15 minutes.  The drive down was unremarkable, unless you count part of my front grill flying off for no reason. Or all the truckers honking at me because I looked a little naked wearing a strapless dress. You live, you learn.

My actual vacation, on Hutchinson Island off the Atlantic Coast, is indescribable unless you are a part of or have met my mother's side of the family. The legendary Buffalo Zaprowskis, headed by the Polish and female equivalent of the Godfather, Nans (also known as the matriarch of the family and the mayor of Ocean Village, the development where we were all staying). I'll try my best to capture the highlights, especially given the fact that a majority of the people who are reading this are probably related to me.

• My first Manhattan: made by my godmother's friend, I finally gave the token family drink a try... and loved it. My grandfather's last meal was a Manhattan and a piece of cake, so it had sentimental value. Especially after the buzz kicked in.
• My uncle's drunk dials: college freshman girls have nothing on my Uncle Mark. Any chance he got he was picking up the phone and calling the few people who were NOT on the trip (aka 70% of this blog's audience). This, along with his absolutely delicious pre-noon drinks (Salty Dogs and Bloody Mary's, anyone?), earned him MVP of Spring Break.
• Karaoke at the Jetty Lounge: This place has a liquor store attached to it, one that I've been going to for almost five years before realizing that the second door led into one of the shadiest (and greatest) bars I've ever been to. The group we went with (all Buffalonians and all pumped up about the Sabres) took over, shouting random Buffalo chants into the DJ's microphone so often we almost got kicked out. The best part of the night (if you can pick one) was our 20 person rendition of "Shout," when we tried unsuccessfully to sound like we were at a Bills game. Unfortunately, no one knew the real Bills words and my cousin couldn't pull his weight with the vocals... plus I'm pretty sure the only things Bills fans want to shout are profanities.
• The burgeoning plans for Cousin's Camp 2011: I've written a post or two about Cousin's Camp... but this past week we decided that a new adult Cousin's Camp be founded... at Kristin and Ryan's apartment. Ready? Oh yeah.
• The party hat: I bought a straw fedora specifically for this trip. And I did not take it off the entire time I was there, except when I showered. It was really hard to not wear it to school this morning, even just for a few minutes, to boost my mood.
• Reclaiming my spot as the favorite cousin and grandchild: Maybe it was how cool I am to my high school cousins. Maybe it was my willingness to try a Manhattan. Maybe it was my pious observance of Good Friday while my meat-eating cousins were told by Nana that they were going to hell (this was before she forgot it was Good Friday and my cousin Laura allowed her to eat half a turkey sandwich before reminding her and telling her, "I guess I'll be seeing you in hell."). Maybe it was the party hat. Whatever it was, I'm on top. And I love it.

Nailed it.

That's all for tonight. Today really brought me back to reality, but it's going to take more than a pouting 7 year old (or two, or three) to bring me down from this kind of happiness.