vacay

Just got back from vacation with the 'rents. My mom's side of the family has a coast house in Gualala (two hours north of San Fransisco) and my grandpa, great-uncle and great-grandfather actually built it, which is cool. There is no TV, so I got to read my book and do some jig-saw puzzles. It was very relaxing to just hang out and kick back with a glass of wine and not have to answer any email. My mom even let up with the nagging, which was nice. We went up to Port Arena and visited a lighthouse, which sounds boring...and it was mostly a lot of stairs. But the docent at the top was worth the 142 steps it took to get there. Then comes the part where I have the following conversation:
Me-'Did you major in, like, lighthouse-ology in college or something? You know a lot about lighthouses'
Lighthouse Guy-'yes I did...lighthouse-ology is a fascinating subject'
Me-'Sweet! I'm 24 and on vacation with my parents, wanna make out in the beacon tower?'
Then the cute lighthouse guy proceeds to explain why it would be inappropriate to make-out in the the beacon tower, and (having been a lighthouse-ology major in college) he explains the proper use of the beacon tower, and why it is not intended to make-out in.
Okay, that didn't happen. Because I was on vacation with my parents. And I didn't even have the guts to talk to the cute lighthouse-ologist.

Then, as we were driving home today, my inner angsty teenager came out because my iPod battery died and my dad made us go to a lame train museum.