Foam Party

You'll be glad to know I made it home from my sojourn to Mexico in one piece ... one year older, not much wiser (thanks to all those Dos Equis) and as pale as ever!

Now, they don't have a saying for Puerto Vallarta like they do Las Vegas. But they should. And because this is the QUEENDOM OF CHEESE I shall pass emergency legislation to include PV under the rule of what happens there, stays there. Besides, our hellish flight home involved a stop in Las Vegas, so there you go.

I CAN tell you that my birthday was perhaps the best I ever had, or at least, the best in recent memory. Tex took me out for dinner. You know on Survivor when the winner of the award challenge gets to eat some fabulous dinner on the beach, with the table right on the sand, candles, and fancy schmancy food? That was the scene. Except it was at sunset, there were many tables and no Jeff Probst. However, I was treated to much love and attention by all the many diners ... one of whom enlisted a mariachi band to play a birthday song, and another who sent cake and ice cream my way. And Tex, of course, who feted me like a queen! Meantime, scads of various temporary friends kept me from facing reality with a never-ending stream of tequila. YES!!

The nicest people in the world are in P-V. Except for this one lady who was actually from Amsterdam. So she doesn't count. Other than that ... nope. all good.

We didn't actually attend a foam party. But we had many to choose from, had we wanted to let open bar fueled strangers do some undercover groping. I just like to say the words "foam party."

There was also a thong contest while we were there. We didn't take part in that either.

Noodle and Messy got along fine while I was gone. They didn't act very excited to see me.

Maybe they didn't realize they missed my birthday.

xoxoxo kisses!!!