What Happens On Vacation Is Meant to Be Blogged

If you hadn't noticed (and really why would you have?) I have been absent from my blog for over two weeks. I was on vacation. A vacation from my blog. An unplanned vacation. This is what happens when you pack your computer and forget to bring the power cord along. Whoops.

(It has been confirmed I suffer from internet addiction. I still have tremors when I think of going to log on to my blog only to discover a dead laptop. It was horrifying. Really.)

I did a lot of driving up to the Arctic Tundra where my brother in-law, the Great White Hunter, lives so that my kids could attend summer camp with their cousins. Did you know Santa's elves put on a summer camp every year? No? Me either.

When my children were safely tucked away in log cabins up at the North Pole, I flew to America.

I did some sight seeing.

Jim and I couldn't get over the fact someone made a statue of the two of us. And the resemblance was uncanny.

I did some Community Keynote speaking.

You can watch me make an arse of myself here.

I a wee bit nervous. I didn't mind speaking in front of 1400 people. I just wish I had thought to wear a dress that didn't feel like it was going to fall down and let my boobs pop out.

I sat on some sort of panel where I tried to look intelligent but mostly came off as the loud mouthed blonde.

Thankfully, Izzy Mom and Anissa were way more articulate than I was when examining how blogging affects ones personal life. I just kept yelling out BOOBS!! like a maniac in a desperate bid to avoid any actual intellectual examination of how Redneck Mommy impacts my life as Tanis Miller.

When I wasn't making a public jackass of myself, I was stalking people and coercing them into taking photos with me.

I hugged a lot of friends, new and old, big and small.

I spent a lot of time hugging on Avitable. The man was meant for hugging.

I kissed a girl.

Loralee. We have a thing.

Or two.

Megan was scrumptious.

Okay, maybe three. Or more. Ask Backpacking Dad. He always seemed to have his camera ready to capture the moment.

I went through a lot of lip gloss that night.

Some of those women may have even slipped me the tongue. I won't mention names *cough*Miss-Britt*cough* because that would be tacky.

And we all know how I am the very definition of KLASSEE.

(Thank goodness there was no boxed wine around. Otherwise who knows what I may have been forced into.)

I wore a bag on my head and tried to avoid eating any cheeseburgers.

Mmmm, mmm, good.

I lovingly checked out my best friend's chest. I know what you are thinking. I swear I was just listening for heart beat irregularities and not motorboating the poor woman.

My, my, Her Bad Mother, what a nice chest you have.

I suppose my explanation would ring truer if I wasn't clutching on to a bottle of Stella Artois like it was my life line.

I was licked on a downtown Chicago street.

I tried getting Church Punk Mom and Only Aman to adopt me but apparently they have a thing against over-grown Canadian Rednecks.

But mostly, during my two week absence, I laughed. A lot.

My cheeks still hurt.

When it was all over, I flew home to drive back up to the North Pole, free my children from the evil clutches of Santa's elves (who, I discovered, totally use summer camp as a rouse to put small children to work on a toy assembly line as soon as their parents drive away) and to find this boy eagerly awaiting my arrival.

Yay! Mommy's back!

Turns out, in my absence he figured out I was his momma and he couldn't wait to be back in my arms again.

Who needs a power cord when one has Jumby's million watt smile to light up my life?

I'm back.

And I've never been happier to be here.

(All photos have been shamelessly stolen from Flickr.)

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I'd like take a moment as well, to congratulate my good friend Danny Evans on the official release of his very first novel today.

I am so freaking thrilled for you Danny. Thank you for including me in this process. It has been humbling and awe-inspiring to watch as your dreams unfolded and came true.

You have been and continue to be a source of constant inspiration to me.

That said, I'm still not showing you my boobs.