Pure Michigan

Just taking a break from my regularly scheduled programming (posts about Italy) to bring you a few photos from another little vacation we went on.

Back in June, we packed up the car with beach gear and a corkscrew and met up with Sarah, Todd, Megan and Amit in one of my very favorite places–Michigan! (Beach gear and a corkscrew are pretty much the only things you really need in Michigan. A change of clothes is recommended, but not a necessity. The same applies to your toothbrush.)

For the optimum experience, I would suggest playing the music from these commercials and inviting Tim Allen to come over and narrate as you look through these photos.

Just in case Tim Allen wasn’t available, here’s a rundown of the highlights:

  • The first several pictures are from the annual wine festival at Fenn Valley Winery. I’ll be honest–Michigan wine isn’t exactly the highest caliber vino. But it totally redeems itself by being alcoholic.
  • We stayed at a super nice B&B on the harbor in South Haven called The Carriage House. Free cookies and popcorn in the afternoon and breakfast was deeeelicious!
  • We did a little bar crawl in South Haven, which is a really cute town with bars and restaurants all along the harbor. At one place, Will ordered a drink called the Chumbucket. And it was a lot tastier than it sounds.
  • Beaches in Michigan are the best. You can actually go in the water without worrying about bacteria levels. Imagine that.
  • Michigan blueberries. One word: CRAYMAZING. Especially in pie form. (Ever since I used it in this post, I’ve been trying to make craymazing happen. It’s totally going to be the “amazeballs” of 2012. Tell your friends!)

It was a craymazing trip to a craymazing place with craymazing friends. To sum up: Craymazing!

See my post about our last Michigan trip from Gatsby’s point of view here.

Gatsby goes to the beach

If you read my last post, you know that I was in Michigan last weekend.

What I failed to mention was that we brought Gatsby along for his very first vacation ever. He was getting a little stressed out (read: barking incessantly) by the evil mailman throwing paper through the door on a daily basis and the people in the neighborhood who dare to stroll past our house his fortress. We thought he could use a little R&R.

Turns out the beach isn’t as relaxing as it would seem when you’re a small dog who gets nervous in unfamiliar environments, eats sand, and hyperventilates when he gets wet. For Gatsby, the beach was about as fun as getting his nails trimmed. Lucky for us, there was no biting or loss of bowel control involved.

Here’s what I imagine he was thinking during his sandy adventure:

“Woohoo! What up, BEACH!? The Great Gatsby has arrived! I WILL DOMINATE YOU. This sand feels weird on my feet.”

“Hey, seagull. How’s it going? That’s a nice perch you’ve got up there, seagull. Good thing you’re not on the beach, or I would PULVERIZE you. Say hello to your mother for  me.”

“Do doo dooo, walking on the beach… Wait. Umm…is that water right there? Hold the phone! HOLD THE F-ING PHONE!”

“Hello0000, McFly! I thought I’ve made it clear that I don’t DO water. Is this some kind of joke? This is a vacation? Someone go get my favorite blanket and a rawhide.  Eeee! I think my fragile paw just got a little wet! This shit is bananas. I’m OUT.”

“Oh no. Oh HELL no. Do NOT take me in that water! Do you hear me? Not one step futher! Don’t you drop me… Christ on a cracker, this mother f-ing lake is mother f-ing freezing! I hate you all!”

<Shout out to Mad Men for that awesome “Christ on a cracker” catch phrase. Gatsby is a big fan.>

“Screw you guys. Not funny. Now my fur is all messed up and I can’t feel my nether regions. I would bite you if I could only stop shaking. DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU HAVE REDUCED ME TO? This is completely unacceptable. I’m hiding your socks under the bed later. Don’t even try to stop me.”

“Uggh I’m wet! And sandy! Oh the humanity! I am RUINED. I have no choice but to resign myself to this foul fate. A hell most damp and unclean! Please – just go. I’m going to my happy place.”

“Huh. This sand doesn’t taste half bad.” <nom nom nom> “Really, it’s not bad at all. What’s that you say? Don’t eat it? OH YEAH??”

“Well take THIS, evil humans! I’m going to roll around and eat as much sand as I can and then poop it out and scatter it all over the house later! HA!”

“Revenge is mine, biatches! The Great Gatsby is victorious once again! Now will someone please go get my favorite blanket and a rawhide? How many times to I have to ask??”

“Oh, so now you’re going to make me sit here and pose for these ridiculous pictures? Screw you guys.”

Two words: Pure Michigan

If the title of this post isn’t clear or you’re somewhat dense, I’m in Michigan right now.

Actually, assuming this will be posted at 10 a.m. like I instructed WordPress to do, I will technically be en route to Michigan, cruising down the highway in our sleek 2002 Dodge Stratus.

(That’s also assuming the Stratus hasn’t crapped out on us. She gets a little cranky when I try to go over 60 mph. That’s when I hit the gas even harder and bark that oil changes are for sissies!)

But soon I’ll no doubt be relaxing on the beach in a Great Lake State of mind. (Michigan is called the Great Lake State if you didn’t know. I think it’s also called the Wolverine State, but I don’t have a pun for that, and I’m also hoping wolverines are not involved in any of my plans for the weekend.)

If you haven’t realized it by now, this post is pretty pointless. Its sole purpose is just to announce the following:


And you’re (probably) not. Although I can’t be entirely sure about that.

Also, this will be my view as I lay out on the beach, reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which has gotten a lot of hype lately, but 150 pages in, my review so far is “meh.”

Hopefully I’m not as red as that lighthouse when I get back.

Ciao! Or, as they say in Michigan…