Travel Bug

I am crawling out of my skin right now. Could be that it is a beautiful Sunday afternoon and I am not fully seizing its brilliance. Could be that I am PMSing to maximum capacity. Could be that I haven't written a lick for about two and a half weeks and the lack of creative output has me seething. Could be all of these things, coupled with the fact that I have the travel bug bad and need a vacation. No,not one where I am schlepping kids and all their accoutrements. I mean one where it is just me and my husband, reconnecting after what seems like eons. Very simply, we need to chill poolside and indulge in umbrella drinks 'til our walls are down and our senses are blurred and we rediscover how incredibly funny and fun we truly are.

 Interesting how everyday life can suck the funny right out of you and turn you into two individuals that more closely resemble androids, co-existing and co-parenting until one day you wake up and realize you haven't had a real conversation in weeks, let alone had anything that resembles intimacy other some half-assed spooning when you are too tired to move in closer from your designated side of the bed.

Since my PMS mood swings lend themselves to a self-entitled attitude of "just fuck the budget", I decided to skip the mall and instead scout online for a place we could escape to for a couple nights that would be outside our norm (norm meaning Vegas) and rekindle the fun-loving couple that we are.

I considered a trip to New York and, seeing that it is now ranked as only 29th on the list of the world's most expensive cities according to Business Week, I could sell it to my man as a deal. But, umbrella drinks aren't as much fun when you are sitting in the middle of Manhattan and the mandatory shopping that is synonymous with the big apple might shift the deal a little left of center, meaning I would be faced with a big "NO". A girl can only take the self-entitled attitude so far and let's just say I don't have the best track record for keeping the spending  in check on past trips there. Oh well, moving on...

I saw there are hella-deals right now for almost every vacation destination within the state of Florida. Now, I am not a genius, but I would venture to guess that this is probably not a good sign. In spite of holding the title as "The Sunshine State", I imagine the mugginess and bugs during the height of summer might eclipse the state's boastful tag line and, even with a few pounds off, I am not so sure I can compete with the Latin hotties in South Beach. A girlfriend who just got back from a long weekend there said, in her words, "Debbie, there are boobies everywhere! And good ones!" Hell no, not for me. The idea is to reconnect with my husband, not disconnect due to rampant good boobies forcing his attention away from my sorry, three-children breast fed babies rack. 

A wild hair drove me to search "Dude Ranches". Who knew that it was such a phenomenon! There are several search sites listing hundreds of these throughout the West and beyond. Who knew that you could spend fat bucks to stay in a hotel that most resembles a set from a horror flick and top it off by working side-by -side with ranch hands shoveling horse shit. I was cool with opting for a Bud in lieu of a foo foo drink, but the image of the toothless cowboy done did me in. Next...

A trip to Palm Springs? Too hot. A trip to Sedona? Too hot. A trip to San Diego? Too normal. A trip to Reno? Too abnormal. Oh, the dilemmas and all I want to do is be fun and funny with the guy who I find to be the funnest and funniest! I would have no problem booking somewhere foreign and exotic, but with 4 days to play with, it kind of rules out Bali or even Hawaii for that matter. 

I would have no problem with San Francisco but he hates that city. How, for the love of God, can you hate San Francisco? To me, that is, hands down, one of the best cities in the US! Amazing food, great culture, lively nightlife-but it does digress from the original thought of a poolside rendezvous.

 This got me thinking. Didn't we just invest a whole $44.95 at Costco for a healthy size inflatable pool? It worked out splendidly on Father's Day! And, as trailer trashy as it seems (and really was), we had a good time sipping cocktails made with fresh-squeezed oranges off of our tree and basking in the sun as we sat in our metal lawn chairs. It got me thinking that maybe we should send our kids on a vacation and we could have our own right here in our very own home! In our domestic life, a quiet house would be more exotic and foreign than any overseas destination could ever be! In addition to this, I wouldn't have to contend with any post-PMS buyer's remorse (double bonus) and grandma would surely welcome three scraggy guests in her home instead of carting herself over here. The perfect plan, now I just need to set it in motion!

Ahh, feeling less agitated and ready to face the rest of the day. With the afternoon coming to a close, another blog under my belt and a plan on how to exterminate that bug, I may actually make it through without throttling somebody. Woo hoo! I think it's happening. I feel funner (is that a word?) already!