This week I got to celebrate my very first Australia Day! (Rob celebrated his first last year. I try to push it out of my mind because while he was busy sending me pics of his sunburn I was amidst the blizzard/ house reno/ wedding planning). Luckily the heat saved itself up for Australia Day as we were met with 100+ temps. At least that’s what I’m guessing since I still don’t know celsius.
We decided to join up for the Havaianas Thong Challenge. It was where 2,088 of our nearest and dearest floated on inflatable thongs into the ocean and linked to make a giant chain. We competed (and won a world record – I won’t go into my thoughts on stupid world records right here) against 4 other beaches in AUS and won. Wanna know what I won? An expansion of my “list of things that make me motion sick” to include “floating on the ocean on an inflatable thong”.
After the funsies (does that work? I’m trying to see if “funsies” is a word that works with my vocab) we had at the beach we went home and drank A LOT of water and napped and hid from the sun like the Cullens. Then it was time for the party at the yacht club. I was smart and wore white pants because during my shunning of the sun I didn’t realise that rain clouds strolled in like they owned the place, and owned the place they did. Luckily there was enough covered area to still eat the plates of food I kept piling high and the tables were cleaned up quick enough that I was able to sit and laugh at the people dancing … then, we became those people dancing. Yes, I said “we”. For the first time ever Rob and I saw each other dance.. I’d like to point out here that I’m refraining from saying that we “danced together”, that makes it sound somewhat sweet and slow and coordinated. It was anything but. I felt like Tina Fey in Baby Mama trying to frame her face and vogueing. I believe at one point that I even said to Rob “this looks cool right?”. We even managed to stay on the dance floor while the DJ tried to push the limits of songs people can actually dance to by playing Coldplay’s Paradise. We persevered because we knew if we got off the dance floor we would by no chance in H-E-Double Hockey Sticks make it back on there. Boy were we rewarded by the means of Salt ‘n Peppas Push It (I know you just sang “push it real good” in your head). That is where I lost every last bit of dignity. There was a benefit to the dancing (not by anyone around us – they suffered) but we were able to wait out all of the traffic and made it home easy breezy.