Hear ye, hear ye, I am alive!



I am tan; I am relaxed. I am also out of medication so my relaxation will last exactly 13.45 hours more unless I hightail my still-white butt to the pharmacy and get a refill on my five hundred prescriptions soon.



But anyway. What to tell you? Do I start with all the hot-blooded sexy Latino men who swarmed me at the resort? (Never mind that I was the only single muchacha there, not to mention the only muchacha under 300 pounds.)



Or perhaps with the time I fell in the river and almost got swept into the Honduran jungle, never to be seen again (destroying my digital camera in the process)?



Or what about the day I almost killed someone in order to get coffee?



Maybe I should start instead with my close encounter with a barracuda? Or my plane ride back through a thunderstorm?



But I still haven’t filled you in on the latest with The Captain (not to be confused with The Captain II, who I met in Honduras).



I don’t know where to start. So maybe I’ll just wait til tomorrow. One has to transition slowly back from vacation, oui?