This past weekend the TSM/TFM crew decided to skip out on work and go on an all-expense paid vacation. I know. The worst, right? The kind folks at Student City hooked us up with the most insane musical festival cruise of all time, Inception at Sea, and so we packed our bags (and overpacked, if you’re Veronica), and woke up at 4:30 a.m. to catch our 7 a.m. flight. While spring break is great, and going on one postgrad is even better, I only had one concern: my boyfriend.
He’s understanding as hell, as most guys we hang onto are. That being said, as I considered four days without him, and at least half of those days without any contact, I got anxious. We had never gone longer than a few hours without talking in the years we’d been together. What would it be like (would he miss me)? Would he remember to pick me up when I landed (would he miss me)? And what would he do the whole time I was gone (would he miss me)?
So I created a log of my trip, to keep myself sane and help prepare any other “wifed-up bitches” out there for what spring break will be like without your man. Heaven help us all.
(No corrections to spelling/grammar were made after being written in my drunken state, so judge not lest ye haven’t typed dumb shit at 2 a.m. when you’re drunk AF)
Day 1: The Goodbye
We pull up to the terminal, I try to fight back my tears as we get ready to say our goodbyes. Maybe I should have woken up early to have a round of morning sex, just to keep the memory fresh? I gaze into his eyes, waiting for him to say something romantic.
I nod, as the tears fall out of my eyes. Just four days. Just four days. I mutter a hasty goodbye and I love you. I rush into the terminal, see the rest of my group and face the line of all fucking lines. I turn back for one last glimpse of my beloved, but he’s already gone.
Day 1: The Check-In
After boarding the ship and downing a few vodka sodas, I give my boyfriend a quick call in our room, just to say goodbye. Again. Unfortunately for me, he wanted to talk about boy things instead of our relationship and love. Fuck. As we pull away from the port, I can hear the phone service getting spotty. I sputter yet another dramatic, drawn out goodbye as a single tear falls down my cheek. As I glance at my phone and see zero bars, I know that this is just the beginning of my tragic journey. Guess I’ll go to the bar to get a mojito.
Day 1: The First Night
It’s 7 p.m. and I just made the discovery of all discoveries. After drunkenly showing up to dinner with the whole squad we talked about how we were handling this lack of social media. Some were going through withdrawals. Some were accepting of their fate. And then Will casually stated that he was connected to the wifi, free of charge! But how?! Could I do it as well? After downing more than my fair share of bread and wine (and grabbed some for the road, obvi) I race to my room to send a text to my boyfriend. It worked! Upon laying in bed, I start to feel drowsy. I’ll just take a quick power nap, I think, as my phone slipped from my fingers.
Day 1.5: Middle Of The Night
Woke up at 2 a.m. to find Cristina passed out on our chair. I look at my phone to see a “what are you up to” text. My heart leaps as I type out a novel, ignore the group chat from everyone else on the cruise asking where I was, and PTFO. I miss falling asleep with him (in the same bed but not like, touching. I get overheated, and anyone who actually spoons while sleeping is a psychopath).
Day 2: First Morning Alone
Nothing like falling asleep at 8 p.m. to help you wake up at sunrise. As I roll over on my twin, I realize that I’m not at home in a king size bed with an erection guy waiting for me. Weird. I down three cups of coffee and two Advil and I fire a quick text out to the boyfriend saying good morning. After wandering the ship waiting for everyone to wake up I can’t help but keep checking for a response. Nothing. He must still be asleep. I send him one more message and the put my phone away. I’d rather not risk it on the beach with my record of water-related phone mishaps.
Day 2: Mid-Day
I check my phone one more time before heading out to the water. Still no response. Weird. It must be at least 11 a.m. his time, and considering we have a DOG he has to be up by now. Jared says guys sleep that late, but I’m not buying it. Maybe he fell back asleep? Or got really drunk last night? Or maybe he doesn’t love me? Lol JK. Sort of.
Day 2: Early Evening
Still nothing. My phone must have stopped working. I check with Rachel who says that her messages are still working. GOOD FOR HER. I down my 7th Miami Vice for the day and fire one last, pathetic text to him. Maybe his phone broke or he died and his ghost hasn’t come back to live with me. That must be it. He must have died. Considering how we lost Boosh on this cruise, anything seems possible.
Day 2: Dinner Time
“I’ll have a basket of bread, an order of onion rings, an empanada, some pasta, and two desserts.” It seems my boyfriend is dead or doesn’t love me so like, who cares right?
Day 2: Night Time
As I putting the finishing touches on my outfit of piña colada-stained shirt and bright purple wig, I hear Dorn drunkenly saying that his wifi isn’t working either. Could it be?! Am I just not getting messages? Duh! Of course! He must be trying to talk to me but it’s not working! My phone is going to blow the eff up when I get on land! Ha! All is well in the world! Time to hit up a booze-filled concert and relish in the fact that my boyfriend might still be alive.
Day 2: Night-Drunk
I MISSS MYU BOYFRTIENDDD. SAD. v. SADD. I wonder if everryone else isa geting laisd? #Dan
Day 3: Still-Drunk Morning
How am I horny while also somewhat sure that my vagina has started to close back up due to lack of use? Not going to even look at my phone right now. Don’t feel like crying. Again. Did I cry last night or was that just throw up? Shit.
Day 3: Hangover Morning
Fuuuck. Even in a different time zone, without any responses, I still manage to regret my texts. I casually deleted ten drunken messages to my boyfriend while I head out of the room. I wonder if he’s even getting these? Probably not. That’s good. At least he doesn’t know how insane I am at the moment. Brb, gotta vom.
Day 3: Late Morning/Lunch Time
Head pounding. Heartbroken. Life over. Need pizza.
Day 3: Afternoon
Just fell asleep and a horrible dream made me realize: if I’m not getting his texts, he’s probably not getting mine. Which means he thinks I’m ignoring him. Which means he probably thinks I’m off getting with some hot raver while he’s at home taking care of our puppy-child like some deserted spouse. What have I done?
Day 3: Evening Prep
Do I even have a boyfriend anymore? Should I put on fake lashes? Does it even matter what I do with my life anymore? No. Probably not. Fuck fake eyelashes. I need tequila.
Day 3: Dinner
“Yes, I’ll have two baskets of bread. The soup. The onion rings and fries. The steak and the pasta dish. And the chocolate lava cake and the bananas foster. Oh. And white wine. Yeah. Just leave the bottle.” Fuck it.
Day 3: Going Out
Shot. I can’t believe I ever complained about my boyfriend via passive-aggressive tweet. He’s the best thing in the world. Shot. Honestly, I need to stop being such a C U Next Tuesday. Vodka soda. I miss his back muscles. Beer funnel. And honestly? The way he teases me is cute, and in no way annoying. Margs. I WISH HE WASS HERE RIGHTYT NOW. WHAT IF HES TAKLING TO HIS EX? Shot. She’s such a biiiiitch. Beer. I wonderr if he remembersd who I am??? Pizza pizza pizza. I miss twitter. ANd Instagram. And him.
Day 3: Late-Late-Late Night
*vomit* what even is love?
Day 4: Morning AF
We’re at the port, we’re at the port! I don’t even care about putting pants on before racing to the one quiet corner of the ship to make the call. Sure, the hangover has never been more real but IDGAF. I need to know where we stand. If there even is a “we” anymore. It rings enough times to tell me the phone isn’t dead or being ignored, then rolls over to voicemail. Fuck.
Day 4: Still Morning Af But Starting To Panic
It’s fine it’s fine. He’s probably just like, hanging out with his new girlfriend or something. I’ll try again. Dammit. Nothing. Rob’s telling me to calm down but what the fuck does he know?! Who’s still sleeping at 8 a.m. on the day their (ex?) girlfriend gets home? SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T CARE THAT’S WHO.
Day 4: Respectable Morning
Called one last time to leave an “I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could dump me to my face” voice mail but I panicked. Guess I’ll just accept that I no longer have a boyfriend. Change my status from “In a relationship and it’s really serious so back off, bitches” to “single AF” now or later? The only thing that could cheer me up is the hour car ride to the airport and waiting for my flight for three hours. Kill me now.
Day 4: Afternoon
HE CALLED AND I MISSED THE CALL. WHO DOES THAT. HE DIDN’T LEAVE A VOICE MAIL. WHAT DOES IT MEAN? I wish I could think though my post-spring break hangover of death. And no security. I’m not smuggling anything. That’s just how I smell right now. My bad.
Day 4: Lunch Time
Still on the fence whether or not I have a boyfriend. Going to order nachos anyways. If I’m still in a relationship later but also gassy, I blame him. Texting him before the flight took off. If I die, I want him to know that I, at least, love him.
Day 4: Early Evening
JUST went on my phone to FaceTune the shit out of look at my pictures and I had a text from him! “See you soon beautiful! Can’t wait to see you.” What? WHAT? HOW. Okay? HOW? Time to contour and try to mentally lose the 500 pounds I gained in the past 80-ish hours.
Day 4: Reuniting
THERE HE IS THERE HE IS! Please kiss me passionately please kiss me passionately. Yeah, I had a great time, what about you? Did you fall in love with someone else? Did you get my texts? Did you miss me?
Day 4: Dinner Time/Evening
Sure I could start eating healthy again but fuck it. I’m already a year’s worth of carbs in. Might as well get some egg rolls for dinner. Now to casually bring up the lack of communication. Oh. He got my texts and was answering but I wasn’t receiving them. Fun. SO fun.
Day 4: Night
Aw, I love you too honey, but not tonight. I missed you, but not “blow job” missed you.
Welcome back to the real world, bitches. Where your phone works, your boyfriend isn’t ignoring you because of service but because he doesn’t want to talk to you, and where he wants blow jobs. Don’t you miss vacation already?.
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Rachel Varina
(yeahokaywhat) Aspiring to be the next Tina Fey, Rachel spends her free time doing nothing to reach that goal. While judging people based on how they use "they're" vs. "there" on social media, she likes eating buffalo chicken dip, watching other people's Netflix, and wearing sweatpants way more than is socially acceptable.
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