Jessie's Journal (8/11/26) (Patreon)

Dear Journal:

After the concert, the cruise kind of blurs together.  Every day was a new port, and it’s hard to remember exactly where we did what.  It was a little stressful—all the embarking and disembarking and Dad constantly reminding us to “watch our ____” (backs, passports, wallets, etc.).  Then there was the fact that everyone leaned on me and my pidgin Spanish to make sure we got where we were supposed to be when we were supposed to be there.

In the end, it wasn’t a big deal.  I never felt unsafe, and many locals spoke English.  There were plenty of times I forgot I was in a foreign country until I had to show my passport.  Of course, sissy kept lamenting that we didn’t venture off the beaten path enough and that we spent way too much time on “touristy shit” with mom and dad, but I was fine with it.  Trouble has a way of following sissy, and I didn’t want to be the one to have to talk our way out of it. 

At some point, I’ll go through my photos and organize them by location and activity.  In scrolling through them now, a lot fit into the “sissy getting fatter” category.  That’s the nice thing about vacations; if I photographed sis eating, drinking, and sunbathing at home, it would be creepy, but on vacation it’s as natural as sunshine. 

Some of sissy’s poses are so similar I could arrange them into a flipbook.  As you might expect, there aren’t many action shots; they’re mostly of her lazing in a deckchair, lazing on a beach, or lazing in our room.  The main differences between the photos are sissy herself—her rounding stomach, swelling breasts, and the double chin developing alongside her tan. 

While a picture may be worth a thousand words, some of my favorite “sissy’s getting fat” moments on the trip were spoken.  Maybe it’s because everyone could see that sissy was gaining weight (including our parents—more on that later), but the comments made in Spanish were understood by my ears only. 

The first time was when we went parasailing.  Dad planned to sit it out while sissy, mom, and I went as a trio (there was a picture of three women doing it together on their pamphlet), until an employee gestured at sis and me and said, “demasiado pesado” (“too heavy”).  The English speaker of the group said, “only two,” so we went two and two (mom didn’t want to go by herself).  Dad thought he had gotten screwed, but he ended up having a great time. 

It was a similar story with ziplining a few days later.  Dad, in his infinite tightness, asked if we could go tandem.  The attendant glanced at sissy and me and simply said “no.”  Before Dad could argue, Mom said, “We’ll take two singles,” averting embarrassment. 

The most overt example was when we went whale watching.  Before we’d even left port, a Hispanic teen passed behind sis and me as we leaned against the railing and said to his buddy, “Creo que ya veo un par...” (“I see a couple already”).  Of course, his buddy cackled.  I shot them a dirty look, but sissy was none the wiser.

It sucked to be the butt of a joke (literally), but I’m used to it.  I wondered what sissy would think if she knew what had been said.  If she knew she had grown fat enough to be caught in the crossfire of barbs that used to be aimed solely at her obese sister. 

By the end of the cruise, I knew the answer.

--Jessie