Friday, January 13, 2012

The tribe has spoken.

Ahhh…the thought of being away on a tropical island without a care in the world.

Almost paradise.
What comes to mind?

• The sand between your toes?

• The bathtub warm crystal blue water?

• The guy that you meet on the beach and flirt with but don’t do anything beyond that because you have a boyfriend then you come home and break up with your boyfriend because you think the guy from the island might really be “the one” then you spend countless hours on the phone with the guy from the island and rack up an insane phone bill but you really connect and decide that he should fly from the island to Oregon to visit you because you are destined to be together and the second he walks off the plane you know in your gut he is not THE ONE but you go through the motions of the romantic weekend anyway?

My little pea-brain associates tropical islands with all that.

When I met "Island Seth" he was super hunky to me. Tall, blonde, and did I mention he lived on an island??? He used hairspray though, which in retrospect was kind of weird. Especially living on an island – wouldn’t it just get all crispy and goopy?

"Sometimes you need a little Finesse ~ sometimes you need a lot."
Seriously, look at the can - he used Finesse.

Seth tried to make out with me several times which I shockingly resisted, because of the aforementioned boyfriend. But after I got home I just couldn’t get Seth, or his helmet head full of hairspray, out of my head.

I expected to see my olive-skinned hunk with long board shorts, a tank top and flip flops walk off the plane. Instead, I spot a pasty guy in a baja shirt and cowboy boots.

I had made a reservation at a bed and breakfast for our first romantic evening together.

What was I thinking??? Jesus, this guy could have been a killer. I would be sleeping in a bed next to someone I had known for approximately nine hours of my life.

Let’s just say it was the opposite of romantic, and I drank a lot of beer to get though it and try and come up with a new game plan for the next couple of days. And please don’t think I’m snarky, it wasn’t the cowboy boots. It was the fact that we were opposite in every way possible and had absolutely nothing in common. How two people can manage to fall in lusty love over the phone and have zero spark between them in person is beyond me, but it can happen. Believe me.

The clincher was at breakfast the following morning after I ordered coffee he ordered “a pint of milk.”

I pushed my scrambled eggs around my plate as I sat across from him, blinded my his milk moustache I put on my sunglasses and began to shut down.

I was screwed. I ordered a Bloody Mary.

Somehow I got through those five looooooooong days. Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t feeling it either. After that first night there was no hand holdin’ or flirting from either party involved. I think he wanted back to his tropical paradise after day one. I'm sure he wanted out right after watching me down my breakfast alcohol while he had his morning milk.

I have not been back to an island since.

Today I choose to feel that sense of the tropics without having to don Hawaiian Tropic, some real nauseating coconut lotion, or having some guy fly six hours to see my ass (or not see my ass.)

Island Vanilla Body Butter by Pacifica is simply in a word, scrumptious. It is soft and sultry, with notes of Tahitian vanilla, honey and jasmine. The consistency of it is thick and rich and delicious and the vanilla scent isn’t too sweet or overpowering.


What can I say, sometimes I like to smell like a cookie and sometimes I like to smell like an island. This lotion makes me feel like I am one minus the tropical troubles I had with my not-so-future-hubby. I hope Seth ended up finding some milky sparks with someone. We had the hairspray in common, you think we could have made it work. 


Island in a tube.


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