I hate boats, Hate, hate, hate. I fucking hate boats.
God, that felt good.
My in-laws are avid boaters. They have had multiple boats over the years, and boat gatherings are their favored social event. April through October, the cry goes out: "Hey! We should all go hang out down on the boat!" In fact, everyone is supposed to suit up for a jolly good time on ye olde boate this coming weekend.
Here's the problem: I get motion sick on friggin' escalators. So, a boat outing for me goes one of two ways -- either I take enough Dramamine to be non-functional (seriously, I'm floppy as a marionette with cut strings), or I literally spend all my time vomiting, dry-heaving and so nauseous as to be useless. Even giant cruise ships make me seasick. Wristbands, fresh air, all sorts of home cures for seasickness prove useless in the face of my shot equilibrium.
A day on a boat -- any boat -- is a very unpleasant experience for me and everyone around me who gets squicked out by being vomited upon or uncomfortable around a woman who has been, for all intents and purposes, roofied.
Unfortunately, everyone seems to think that "this time, it will be different! You'll be OK! You can learn to enjoy it!"
Crap. Utter crap.
The other side of this is, "Well, fine. You can stay on shore and (insert activity)." This usually leads me to grumble that I have other things I could just as easily be doing at home, rather than sitting on an uncomfortable dock, or a useless yacht club.
However, I'm generally branded a sourpuss who refuses to have fun whenever I complain. Which is what I'm doing here.
Seriously? Fuck boats and boating in general.