I know, I know. I'm shocked, too.
As far as warm-locale vacations go, I'd say this one was a huge success: this was the first one during which I did not get physically ill from a sunburn (My Sister the Lawyer's wedding--I almost missed my speech for the puking.*) or a permanent line from a blister-level sunburn (reaching all the way to my armpits--just a little uncomfortable, that**). Three cheers for me!
And, it was relatively disaster-free. Sure, my tank top strap broke, but it happened in the hotel room, so no biggie. And there may have been a Marilyn Monroe moment, but no one was really looking. And the clasp of my swimsuit top may have snapped, but the tankini portion held everything mostly decently in place, and the bit of plastic clasp that winged five feet away didn't take out a single bystander's eye.
So this was definitely my most low-key vacation.
*You know it's a good wedding when you puke through most of the reception dinner and still manage to have a great time. Also, don't judge me. I fell asleep on the beach and forgot to reapply my sunscreen. It could happen to anybody.
**Yeah, okay, I forgot to put sunscreen on my neck and chest. And then I fell asleep on the beach. And while it could happen to anybody, it mostly just seems to happen to me. You should probably feel sorry for me. And send pity cookies.
(True: I saw grown men play what was essentially floor hockey. In the dark. With bare feet. With a ball that was on fire. Did I mention the bare feet?)