Turks Diaries
Imposter Syndrome, Flying Nightmares and "Sheisty" Bitches.
I only discovered last week how magical it feels to open up your laptop in the middle of the airport, and just start writing. Like, yes, i do have something important to attend to on here. I adore feeling important. This week, I write to you from terminal 5 at JFK. I’m on my layover back to LA. I’m waiting on an order of bucatini carbonara from the Italian restaurant by my gate, which was a very questionable decision based on my digestive habits and track record. So sorry to the person fated to sit next to me on this flight!
Little did I know, posting last weeks Substack from the Ontario Airport, I wouldn’t end up flying anywhere that night. There was a moment where I almost gave up entirely on going to Turks and Caicos, but I’m so glad I persisted. You see, what happened was, that day, my original flight out of LAX got delayed too late to make the connection to Providenciales. The airline I was flying, in an effort to get me there, put me on that flight out of Ontario (California, not Canada!) which also ended up delaying too late to make any connection to Turks.
After the $100, hour-long Uber ride through the Inland Empire to get there, smuggling two eighths of California weed through TSA in my acupuncturist’s herb bottles, and a glass of red wine at the airport bar, I sent out that post to my sixty-five readers, only to sit in my plane seat for three hours and never take off.
Defeated, I spent another $60 to call a car home, to sleep in my own bed and cuddle my cat, Clementine. The next day, I wondered if it was even worth it to try again. I got a call that morning, from a friend asking if I could be in the Charli XCX video for “Guess,” with The Dare and Billie Eilish. Unlike my friend, I didn’t sign an NDA, so I think I can talk (and write, freely) about this. So, yeah, Billie’s getting on that song and just like Madison Beer in that one Vine, I was supposed to be in the video!
Here’s the thing though, I truly can’t handle disorganized chaos. Had literally anyone called me, or my agent with a smidgen of information about this shoot, I probably would have done it. However, the only thing I was being told, was from my friend: that this “wouldn’t be worth cancelling my trip over.” Clearly, she just wanted her own opportunity to make out with Harrison (The Dare — been there, and done that!)
So, upon deciding to put my “Brat” summer on hold, and many hours on the phone with Jet Blue, I put myself back on track to join my friends in the Turks, only 24 hours late. I mean… my Rimowa was already packed!
That night, I went through the same motions for a second time in a row, only now with more weed in my herb bottles, upon the request of a friend. I figured it wouldn’t be a problem, now leaving out of LAX once and for all, and I was correct.
I’m not crazy informed on the semantics of federal drug laws, or flying and smuggling, but I have spent too many hours in reddit forums reading about the matter and practicing my own techniques, without been detained yet. Obviously, take everything I say about this with a grain of salt, as it’s coming from a white woman with an immense amount of privilege, who’s typically traveling solo. Of course, it all unfortunately depends on what you look like and where you’re traveling to, and how strict their laws and security are. However, entering Providenciales was pretty relaxed, and I had no problems.
The flight was five hours from Los Angeles to New York, with an hour upon landing to make my connection. From New York to Providenciales was another three hours. We deplaned right onto the tarmac — which I always LOVE, private jet fantasy — and walked right in, through customs.
From there, a car picked me up and took me to a boat port where I bought a ferry ticket to North Caicos. In case you’ve never been, Turks and Caicos is comprised of multiple islands, so my plane landed in Providenciales, then I went through North Caicos to ultimately reach a third island, Parrot Cay. It was while waiting for the ferry, I met a local islander, and ferry employee, Stanley. I know he’s going to read this because he was flirting with me hardcore, and made sure to get my Instagram, through which he messaged me the next day that he had found my blog and read my four posts. Hello post no. 5!
Stanley was handsome, wearing his employee uniform (khaki shorts and a red polo shirt.) I was excited that he was flirting with me. He had asked me about my interests, and as I sat waiting for the ferry, we got into conversation about human behavior and psychology. He seemed smart, and that was attractive. I was curious about him. He was so curious about everything; how often I change my hair color, who Charli XCX was, and of course, was I trans?
All this and more came through the form of Instagram DMs waking up my first morning in Parrot Cay. He’d “never been with a trans woman before,” but he was “open to having a trans woman friend.”
Whomp whomp. Say what you will, but I lost interest after that. I personally don’t want any friends who aren’t open to the idea of being with someone trans. It was officially time to focus on vacation with the people I literally terrorized Jet Blue to be here with.
The ferry took me to North Caicos where I was met by a sweet woman in her car, who drove me across the island to a dock where I would embark the final leg of my journey, a short ride, on a small and rickety boat to Parrot Cay.
The ferry, by far, was my favorite part of the adventure, and NOT because of Stanley! The ride was packed full of locals and tourists, smiling and joking, and it drove so fast from island to island. There was one point in the twenty minute drive, where it started to rain on the water, but the sun never stopped shining. It was my first time out of the plane, seeing the bright blue sky reflect off of the crystal clear water. I could feel my smile beaming across my face so wide that it almost hurt. It was then that the battle I endured to get there, finally felt worth it.
My first morning waking up here, I felt so full of gratitude. Who was I, to be waking up on a remote island to a gorgeous view, in a free house, with young and sexy notables? The imposter syndrome was kicking in, but I was still giddy, in awe at my situation. Upon waking up, we took a boat tour around North Caicos and got lunch at the Cabana Bar in Grace Bay. I got a lot of great recommendations from the locals along my journey to what I’m deeming “the villa,” (thank you Love Island.) However, this was not my trip, and I had no hand in creating the itinerary — which I also love, let me sit back and enjoy what’s been curated. We didn’t make it to any of my locals’ recommendations, but the Cabana Bar was cute! I throughly enjoyed my jerk chicken wings.
Most of our days were spent on the beach. I’d never visited such a destination before, and the water truly was so clear and so warm, I had no problem soaking in it for most of the vacation. The first couple of days we cooked all of our meals; something I don’t really recommend having 21-23 year olds on mushrooms and molly manage, especially while you’re vacationing on the island with no grocery stores.
Between guests on the spectrum of disordered eating, midnight mac and cheese chefs, and party girls not wanting to take breaks from their freshly-frozen cocktails, things occasionally got messy — and supplies got scarce quickly. Even once we were joined by Rico, a chef hired for the last days of the trip, I still feel like food supplies, and hunger levels were a consistent point of contention throughout the holiday.
This brings me to the official word of the trip: Sheisty, (Shy’s-Tea.) Upon further inspection, this is not recognized as a “real” word, however it is classified as an American colloquialism for being untrustworthy. Within the context of our trip, I would define it as a synonym for greed, or one’s unwillingness to share.
‘Sheistiness,’ as a character flaw, was brought up maybe once every hour in the Villa. Whether it pertained to an individuals unwillingness to share their nicotine device or marijuana, or how much an individual helped themselves to when serving dinner, I couldn’t go sixty minutes without hearing, “Y’all bitches are so sheisty!” or “Can you stop being so sheisty for just one minute?”
It’s not completely untrue. Now that the lingo has entered my vocabulary, I can confirm, some of y’all bitches were indeed ‘sheisty.’ It was truly absurd, and shocking witnessing the level of materialism among us while we were supposed to be ethereal, and frolicking, and just grateful to have a friend invite us on this beautiful adventure (a friend who made sure we got there, and were safe and taken care of.) I obviously won’t be naming names, even pseudonyms are something I’m saving for down the road, when I eventually write my memoir.
While ‘sheisty’ was the official word of the trip, I refused to let it be the theme of our vacation. I was determined to reconnect with myself and with the earth, as crunchy as that may sound. I made sure to find moments of solitude, as big group activities quickly became overstimulating, or worse: heated. One highlight for me was skinny dipping as the sunset turned to dusk, the only other person in sight for miles being a friend in the exact same state.
For juxtaposition to my groundedness, I was also determined to get the best pictures to ever grace my Instagram feed. The Olympics had begun, and Turks and Caicos was my content Olympics. Now this way, my flight could be a write-off… slay! My partner in crime; Tyler, and I snuck off for a while each day, location scouting and styling pieces from our luggage to keep each other creatively stimulated. You all have him to thank for the quality of content I’ve been feeding you this week. If I was rich, he would no doubt be my art director, salaried. Someone needs to hire him before I can!
I am now back in LA, after another 24-hour long travel nightmare. Am I unlucky with airlines? Or did I just choose to take a vacation in the midst of the biggest tech “update” ever? Definitely the latter.
I woke up at 7:00 AM yesterday to leave Parrot Cay. I got home to Silver Lake at 3:58 AM PST, exactly 24 hours after waking up in Turks and Caicos. I actually slept in later than I ever have, waking up today at 2 PM (equivalent to 5 PM back in the islands) and sending this out to you is the first thing I’m doing with my day. I worry about falling asleep at an acceptable hour tonight, is this what jet lag is? I look forward to settling back into reality, and I desperately need to get my life back in order.
There are so many unknowns ahead, which drives me to seek out and create a sense of stability. I can’t wait to continue to yap through your screen, as we navigate this in real time.
xoxo,
Ella
Omg this was a great recap! Had me doubled over laughing. You’re an excellent writer, Ella!