O. M. G.

Or, things I learned while spending 3 days with Hublet, The Boy, a gaggle of teenage girls (and one poor teenage boy).

• Never let a six-year-old apply your sunscreen.
• Teenagers have no concept of "refills of anything other than iced tea aren't free."  Yeah, that'll be $10.  Hope the 4 glasses of cranberry juice you just had to have were really tasty!
• Teenagers have no concept of how much a nice dinner should actually cost, unless they are excessively wealthy teenagers, in which case they have no concept of the kind of financial burden a $30 entree' for one dinner can be for some of their friends.
• Pursuant to the above, teenagers don't understand how completely inappropriate it is to go to a restaurant with $30 entrees--a restaurant which you selected and begged to go to, btw--and order off the children's menu.  (Sorry, waiter-dude!  At least the little twits tipped appropriately!  You're welcome.)
• Pursuant to pursuant to the above, when dining out with 15 people, the majority of whom are adolescents, Pizza Inn is a totally awesome option, and one that we will take advantage of in the future.
• The only thing more annoying than clique-y teenage girls is clique-y teenage girls who deny that they're being clique-y.
• Also?  I don't have a lot of patience with the pudgy outcast goth wannabes who marginalize themselves.  Repeatedly. On purpose.  And then sulk about it. (You know, I tried to be sympathetic - I remember what it was like to be self-conscious when you were stuck in the middle of a clique you didn't belong to, and I know all about the sort of aggressive overcompensation that can occur in that situation.  And no, it's not fun to be stuck chatting with the totally uncool grownups instead of the other girls.  BUT.  With the exception of one stupid little girl (see next bullet point), the girls in this group were totally willing to be social and try to get along with each other--and not in that irritating faux way that they think adults can't see through.  If Miss Thang, Goth Edition, doesn't learn how to meet these folks halfway, it's gonna be a long damn year.  For her, anyway. Here endeth the sermon.)
• Nor do I have a lot of patience with mean girl wannabes who try to spar verbally with Hublet.  That means you, blondie.
• It's called an ITINERARY.  And next year, if I am forced on this trip, there will BY GOD BE ONE.
• By the same token, they're called ROOM ASSIGNMENTS.  And RIDE ASSIGNMENTS.  And only an Act of God will change either one.
• I am so happy to be turning 40 this year you have no idea.
• The chance of a six-year-old coming down with some random illness is directly proportional to how much he's looking forward to a particular trip.

Well, that about covers it.  Except to say that after I arrived home yesterday I made a brief jaunt to the ABC store, where I procured a large bottle of Gray Goose vodka.  I may even mix it with other liquids!

UPDATE:  Want Hublet's take on the trip? It's here, and I'll bet you can guess which quote is mine pretty easily...