In the next twenty days, I will only spend 6 at work. That's right, it's vacation time bitches!

I leave Thursday afternoon for a snorkeling/camping trip with my big brother. It's his bachelor party, and he wanted to do something with just the guys. I don't see any strippers in our future, but my brother was never really the stripper type, so it's not surprising.

Then I come back for a week, and leave again that weekend for his wedding. That's the long one, almost 10 days. I drive out on a Saturday, and The Wife joins the party the following Wednesday. Uncles, aunts, cousins, and people I'm not sure how I'm related to usually come out of the woodwork for weddings; prompted mostly by an open bar and the chance to make extended family feel "socioeconomically disadvantaged". Well, not all of them; but there are more than enough. I plan on having breakfast on the beach every morning and spending some serious time in the water. I think I'm slates somewhere in there as best man, so I suppose I might have to put a shirt on at some point; but we'll have to play that one by ear.

Of course, all this means I'll probably have a severly limited Christmas vacation. Meh.