Zombies are real

So apparently I majorly lied when I said we were going to the Outer Banks for Memorial Day weekend. Except that I didn't, because I abide by the George Costanza definition, which is that it's not a lie if you believe it. 

We did, in fact, spend the weekend at the beach. Here's what happened. Several months ago, I got an email from a friend (I've already forgotten which friend actually sent it) suggesting renting a house at the beach for the long weekend with these fine folks.

I was sort of on the fence because of the traffic, but then I got a second email saying the house didn't allow dogs (we are the only couple without one) and that was the nudge I needed to sign up. I mailed down our check, drove to the address I was given (or slept while Eric drove), the whole time thinking we were going to the Outer Banks. I honestly didn't even know until we were there that we were in Ocean Isle Beach, which is a completely different place. 

Moral of the story - if you email me with what I deem to be a great idea, I will mail you money and show up wherever you tell me to. It's a miracle I'm not chained up in someone's basement right now with my life savings safely stowed away in a Nigerian princes' bank account.

This is the house. It's even better than it looks. 

We had our own room, our own bathroom, and it even opened up to a balcony with a hammock.

View from our bedroom

This was our first time on a group vacation, and I highly recommend it. All the romantic aspects of a normal vacation, but with five girlfriends to eat, drink, gossip, and shop with. We estimated the time we spent together vs. time spent with our husbands to be somewhere around 95/5, which is often referred to as the ideal ratio. 

Look, here we are during the 5%!

I know I swore there would be no bikini pics, but I completely forgot about that handy little "crop" feature on my computer. You're welcome. 

The rest of the time looked a lot like this.

I'm sure we all have an idea what goes on during a beach vacation, but here's some pictures to drool over in case you didn't get to go on one this weekend.





The waves were huge! I consumed the recommended salt intake for a 400 pound man during a two year period in the hour or so we played in them.

I don't know those people but pretend its a romantic picture of Eric and I.

Eric and I have vastly different definitions of what constitutes a good vacation.

His

Hers

I'm really lucky that Eric wanted to come to the beach because he hates the actual beach. He came the first day, but he just doesn't get the appeal of being hot and covered in sand. The second day, once the hammock got too hot for him, he went inside and watched TV while eating snacks, and enjoyed himself immensely. 

 Also, there was plenty of drinking, delicious food, and games to occupy him.

I totally helped grill - look at how helpful I'm being

I fell asleep during catchphrase

But magically jumped to attention as soon as the white cheddar popcorn came out

I even did some running with my beach running buddies, Mike and Josh. I was terrified of the heat and humidity, but I did 8 miles Saturday at a fast pace for me of 8:38 and felt fantastic. 

Sunday and Monday were just as I expected, and I struggled to breathe and felt like I was being baked alive. I barely made it five miles each day.

We spent about 20 hours in the car from Friday - Monday, but it was well worth it. 


Did you hear about the real live zombie attack, aka the man who ate another man's face in Florida this weekend? It's all we could talk about Sunday night. I threw up in my mouth a little just googling for an article to link.

Who's vacation method sounds better to you, mine or Eric's? Both are pretty lazy, so if you want to be more active, I guess you'd have to go for none of the above.


Does that story make you feel that you are wildly unprepared for the zombie apocalypse? That was our general consensus.