VC magic.

Blink and you miss it.

That's what happens here at the VC. 

We're half way through Week 7 and I just heard the sound of a drunk vacationer retching in the courtyard. Tuesday is Night on the Town Pub Trivia night...Two separate events that both gently spurn all adult parties on toward wine guzzling and tomfoolery.

Did I mention that I love my job?

I'm babysitting for two little girls right now, both of which are sleeping, and I can hear the event of the night transgressing outside their window. 

Let's talk about last night though. Last night I drank too much. While getting paid to drink too much. I was a judge on the Vacation Center's latest and greatest event...Top Chef. Vacationers compete in various challenges i.e. name that tune, first to draw an octagon, and drinking games like flip cup and quarters. These various challenges win them ingredients which they will then throw together to make their best version of a margarita and guacamole.

I was a judge for the event.

Therefore I tasted, and when I say tasted, I mean slurped and savored, five margaritas...and then comes the guac. I don't even like avocadoes. Gasp! I know, everyone thinks I'm an abomination. I suck it up and eat the guac. Some of it I might actually even call good. 

Week 7 left me laying on my bedroom floor this morning. 

Presentation is taken into account with this competition. And not only were we bribed with Best Buy Rewards Cards, Safeway Cards, Insurance Cards, and hundred dollar bills...every bowl of guac was backed with a shot of tequila for each of the judges.

I get paid to drink too much.

Sounds vaguely familiar. Only this time I'm in a joyous environment that's healthy and wholesome. 

I currently hear the drunk vacationers Karaoke'ing to Wicked's Defying Gravity. The VC magic is alive and thriving.

I play chauffeur for Night on the Town. I drive vacationers downtown so they can enjoy a nice dinner away from their children. And because they have a chauffeur, they tend to get a little wastyface. Tonight I had to play buzzkill and break up the party because my vacationers were over 17 minutes late to my van and therefore I was going to be late for my babysitting shift. I walk up to their table in the restaurant and all 12 of them look up at me and smile all glassy eyed and wine flushed. They all break out with their separate excuses as I usher them into the van. The noise decibel has sky rocketed about 2.7 seconds after they get seated. A woman breaks out in high school cheers from her alma mater and then everyone proceeds to follow suit until we end up with 12 drunken octaves of 99 bottles of beer on the wall, morphed into the wheels on the bus go round and round. 

I love my job.

But it's nearly over. 

I have a week and a half left here in this place and then I move onto the next chapter...which involves a lot of the same ol' same ol'. I'll be moving back downtown and nannying for Jemma and Rovenna again, and I've picked up a new one. I now babysit a rapidly growing infant named Adeline. She's morphed out  of the head lolling stage and into the pulling up, teething, warbling audible words stage, all under my supervision. I'm in love with her...and hence one of the reasons I will remain in Santa Barbara.

The kids really seem to decide my fate. 

And in other news, I officially have my first boyfriend. Round of applause people. She's finally done it. Nabbed herself a real winner too. Not a hint of sarcasm in that last sentence. No, seriously. He's incredible. You'll all get to meet him because he's gonna be around for awhile. 

And then I was spent. 

I'll try and be back more often.