And it's all admittedly my fault because - and I say this cheerfully - I know I can be a persuasive little bitch when I want something badly. She said "no," I heard "yes but I need heavy-handed convincing." ML calls this annoying. I call it an art form.
Anyway, ever since the Big Announcement, STY and I have been emailing each other back and forth, deciding on what outfits we would bring or what kind of products we could use to keep our hair from bursting into a halo of frizz (frizz makes STY apoplectic). We've also been mulling over the merits of cute rainboots versus those Uggs that KStew wore in the movies. And are we sure there is a bar? Liquor store? Should we call them and tell them stock up?
To: Jenny Jerkface
From: Snarkier Than You
you, my dear, are going to have to help me pack because i usually just
throw everything i own into a huge suitcase and sort out the details
later. oh and i have to buy stuff for this trip. like cute rain gear and
To: Snarkier Than YouPoor bastard has no idea what she's asking. Despite the fact that I am ridiculously uber-fucking girly, I am fuckawesome at packing light. I've never traveled with STY before but I've seen her stuff. She has lots of it. I'm already forming my battle plan, in fact. I figure if I can't talk her out of bringing two straightening irons, I can just beat her with one of them and call it a day.
From: Jenny Jerkface
I will help you pack. I was hoping to only bring my backpack as a carry-on but that's not going to happen. I am a pro packer, jftr.
Hell, we even discussed what manner of wildlife roams the Hoh Forest and how STY will be sipping cocktails while I'm getting my throat ripped out by a mountain lion. In the end, I think I convinced her to go with me, though. After all, I only need to run faster than the slowest person... and neither one of us wants to man the blog solo, so we each have an interest in protecting the hide of the other [note to self: bring a slow person who I don't like very much].
Now that we've gotten the important things like hair products and rain boots hashed out , we even set a tentative date: somewhere in late August or early September. We'll pin this down soon, I promise.
HOWEVER. There is one key thing that STY has not decided on, and it's an important factor in our trip across the country.
She has not figured out how to break the news to Mr. Snarky. Which is very unlike her. It's safe to say he won't be amused (at all), let's put it that way. And frankly, she's not the only one dealing with this sticky wicket. Judging by your comments, STY is in good company and there are veritable scores of you who are also in the delicate position of convincing your spouse/boyfriend/girlfriend/what-have-you that making a pilgrimage to the rainiest fucking place in the US is not only sane, but you're doing it...without them.
Um, not to sound like I'm gloating but I've got freebies for about five weeks of spontaneous excursions such as this one. ML can't say shizzle to me about going to Forks. Not. One. Single. Word.
I'm finally getting my karmic retribution from when he went on tour with his band last summer for five weeks. And left me in an un-airconditioned apartment - we were in the process of buying a house - and I was packing ALL BY MYSELF, DESPITE THE FACT THAT WE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHERE WE WERE GOING AND HAD THE VERY REAL POSSIBILITY OF ENDING UP FUCKING HOMELESS.
Oh, and did I mention that he was extremely... unreachable while he was on tour? So yeah. Not a word. But remind me to tell you about the time he called to regale me with his tales of swimming in natural springs and drinking 'til dawn while I was suffering a serious case of swamp ass and packing up his Grandmother's dishes. [Yup. I'm over this. I swear. Oh, fuck it, I think STY wanted to kill him last summer, too.]
Anyhoodle, because I'm purely a selfish creature and I want each and every one of you to come, I've been thinking of ways to help out. Unfortunately, I'm so broke I'm considering selling off some of the shit ML has down in the basement so I can't help any of you out in the department. So, all I can do is offer a few suggestions to those of you who might be having issues letting the S/O know you're going to Forks, Washington.
And here's what I've come up with:
4) 2 1/2 Words - World of Warcraft. Dudes, I've heard that this is highly addictive and if he's super busy trying to beat the Gorgonzola Priest on level 39.85, he won't even notice you're gone. Good luck weaning him off of it when you get home.
5) Nintendo, Atari, Wii, xbox, whatever - see above. Pretty much the same thing.
6) Blow jobs (did I mention BJs?)
8) Give head
9) Give a hummer (and not that massive truck-y thing, either!)
Fuck it, tell him you're going to Forks while his dick is occupying your mouth. He'll say yesssssss to anything then. And then later you can act mad when he says you didn't tell him and doesn't recall thinking it was a swell idea. Wait, what? Tell me I didn't cross that line I've heard rumors about!
Good luck, Twitards. You might want to grab some knee pads...
Let us know in the comments if you have any tricks & tips you want to share!