Ah, Valentine's Day, a time for love and romance, right? A time to book a spontaneous trip to Paris for two---to Paris in the springtime, no less!

Yes, I did just that: I booked a trip next month to Paris. The City of Love! I booked a trip to the place where romance hides in every Eiffel Tower sunset, lingers in every late-night dinner of steak frites. I booked this trip on Valentine's Day. But I didn't book it for me and Sean. Oh no, I booked it for me and my sister.

I know, kind of kills the buzz, right?

Friends, you have not experienced the absurd until you have been squired around a Mexican Wal-Mart by your enormous Mexican bodyguard, both of you searching in vain for vanilla extract.

Oh you guys, Vanuatu. How can I tell you about Vanuatu? It feels like a beautiful dream I had a long time ago, the sort of thing that's only hazily real. Often now, I catch myself thinking "Was there actually once a time where I did nothing but kayak lazily in the morning, sunbathe gratuitously all afternoon, read a novel a day, and fall asleep to the sound of the ocean lapping at the sand?"

This is part two of the Sydney portion of our honeymoon, which for some reason I still insist on recapping, even though it happened, like, two months ago and no-one really cares. Part one is here, and the Melbourne portion is here. Also, there are lots of photos. Are you still awake? Oh good, let's begin.

Wait! I didn't even tell you my favorite thing about our time in Melbourne! Well, alright, maybe it wasn't my favorite thing about our time in Melbourne, but it did warm the cockles of my heart a little and considering Melbourne was absolutely freezing for the duration of our stay, anything that warmed the cockles of anything was alright with me.  

My father is starting to believe that Sean and I never went on a honeymoon, seeing as he's yet to see a single photograph from the actual event. Six weeks after the wedding, you probably are too, so I thought I'd set the record straight. We did, in fact, go on a honeymoon, and now that you're sitting comfortably, I'm going to tell you all about it. Maybe you should grab snacks. 

I always get the most bizarre injuries when I go to the Bahamas. Last time, if you'll cast your mind back, I sprained my foot by slamming into some rocks when I was running down the beach and then did something to my bottom lip that made me look like Octomom gone bad. (Or, I guess, Octomom gone worse.) This time, I got scratched by a swimming pig.

Yes, I said a swimming pig.

Hello from Exuma, the most beautiful island in the Bahamas! Do you like my balcony? Funny thing about that balcony, actually, IT ALMOST GOT ME KILLED. Well, that's not exactly true, although it certainly could have, had I acted on Plan A this afternoon when I found myself in a certain situation. Since I rather sensibly acted on Plan B, however, it merely---how shall we say this?---mildly inconvenienced me instead.