The trip was nice, I suppose... I always love spending time with Kevin, and fortunately we were left alone to sleep together at night. But... it rained a lot, which meant we couldn't go out and do a lot of activities, and it was my "time of the month", so I was unable to go swimming until the second to last day of the trip. Kevin and I also ended up fighting a lot, mostly because of my issues with jealousy... Twice during the trip, I ended up crying in the bathroom for a while.
Although I've decided that I really should let up on him, I still wish he could have been more understanding of how I felt. Maybe some of my feelings are irrational, but it does not make me an irrational person. But I do see how I can go a little overboard with it sometimes, and I have promised to leave him be. Don't forget that. As long as I'm the one he loves, he can browse with his eyes. Much of it can't be helped...
Even worse, when we weren't fighting, either he was stressed and upset over his issues with getting a train he wanted, or I was stressed and upset about other things that have been bothering me lately. Even if we weren't upset with each other, having one of us be upset kind of killed the mood during the day.
I tried using tampons for the first time in my life, and it was terrifying. It was extremely uncomfortable sliding it in, without decent lubrication. Even just trying to reach down there was awkward and not easy, and could easily turn extremely messy. I got it in, but immediately changed my mind about wanting to try it, and so I tried to get it back out again. Getting it out was about 10 times more difficult than getting it in was, and I was terrified that I couldn't even remove it without hurting myself. Unlike the smooth plastic applicator used when putting it in, on the way out, all it has is a flat-edged piece of cotton. I spent about three full minutes tugging on that stupid string to get the thing out of me. The more I had trouble with it, the more uncomfortable I got, and the harder it was to relax and remove it. Eventually I pulled it out, but I never want to have to use those things. Maybe I will try them again in the future, but at the moment, I am still WAY too uncomfortable with having things inside me. They are not for me. I am just fine with pads, even if they are difficult sometimes, thank you very much.
But there were good moments during the trip. The bed was comfortable, I loved waking up with him in the morning. I made a habit of waking up an hour or so earlier than I had to just so I could demand on getting cuddles from Kevin for a while. I always feel most comfortable when I'm in his arms.
We did get to go swimming one day, and I spent a couple days wading in the ocean. I spent multiple mornings sitting outside reading books on my Kindle. On Friday we went putt-putt golfing, and we each won a round. Kevin got a hole in one once. I got to eat at two of my favorite restaurants, Bonefish Grill and BJ's Brewhouse. Creme brulle dessert and BBQ chicken pizza, yum... And we got corn nuggets at the restaurant at the resort. Those things are delicious.
I bought an alcoholic beverage at a restaurant for the first time in my life. I ordered a Twisted Tea at the resort's restaurant. I've been wanting to try it, considering how much I love tea in general, but they didn't have it. So instead they offered me an Arnold Palmer (19th hole, by Michelob I think). It was a tall can, tea and lemonade mixed with the alcohol. It was tolerable, I drank all of it, but I really can't stand the taste of alcohol. It's so unappealing. The drink tasted mostly fine until I swallowed, then I'd feel a burn of alcohol in my nose and throat. Rather unpleasant. I drank about half of the can in one sitting and the other half a couple hours later, but I still didn't feel any kind of "buzz." There wasn't much alcohol to it I guess, only 4%, but all it gave me was a headache.
I still am curious about drinking, to a small extent, if I could find something that didn't taste so strongly of alcohol, but I still could easily live without it. I don't see the point if all I get is a headache and an upset stomach. I guess I like the idea of drinking more than actually drinking. It's something new.
Anyway. So I got home from the trip today; Kevin dropped me off. The house seemed cleaner than usual - more spacious somehow. Kevin stopped in for a bit to each lunch with me and say hi to Joy, and both my parents were home. Kevin and I had both been here for about 20-30 minutes, when Kevin suddenly realized that the house was empty of the ramps and stuff we used to have in place for Mrs. Dash. I looked around the house and realized that I hadn't seen Mrs. Dash anywhere, and my parents hadn't mentioned her. I asked them where she was, and they told me they had put her down on Tuesday. Apparently she was throwing up and so feeble that mom finally decided it was time. I wasn't upset - I was ready for Mrs. Dash to go about a year ago. I was simply stunned that neither of them called me and told me about it, and even after getting home, my parents were simply acting like Mrs. Dash never existed. It was a little unsettling.
I later asked dad why they didn't tell me about Mrs. Dash, and he said that mom didn't want to talk about it and that he was just so over it that he didn't care. So neither of them felt it was important to tell me, I guess.
Dad also told me that mom spent Monday night with her, sitting on the couch and petting her. On Tuesday she was throwing up something nasty in her pen, and mom pointed out that we only had 5 pad liners for the floor of the pen left. To buy a new box would be $50, and Mrs. Dash was plowing through a handful of them every day. It was only then that mom finally said enough was enough. Go figure.
As much as I pushed to have Mrs. Dash put down, I would have appreciated at least a phone call about her. After all, she's been in our family since I was in second grade, something like 16 years. Regardless of how hideous or disgusting she became, she was our family dog. I wish I had better memories of her in the end... But all I can see in my mind when I think of her is the broken shell she became. A depressed, lifeless skeleton with stiff legs. Part of me knows she was a happier, livelier dog once, but it feels like so long ago that it's hard to recall. Oh well. At least it's over.
My kitty is happy to have me home. She's been meowing for my attention, rolling in my lap, and following me through the house. I miss her when I leave. My little bitty muffin. <3