I want to stay in a hotel.

Preferably one where I can wear someone else’s robe. Not some sketchy left-behind robe, the kind that is hung crisply in the closet, beckoning you to take off your tired old travel clothes and immerse yourself in its coziness. Apparently I want to write travel reviews for high end hotels I cannot afford to stay in.

I am extremely restless and destinationless. I have always had my standby vacation. LA area to see Brynn. I do love her to pieces, but so does that man she’s engaged to and it’s so not relaxing for me to watch him prove his love to her every day I’m there with spontaneous flower deliveries and nauseating sweet nothings. I love that she is loved. I just can’t hear about it on my vacations anymore. It was particularly annoying when I would spend part of those trips in LA and come down to Ventura obviously upset and have to hear all their pearls of relationship wisdom. Blek. Please pass the wine. I get it. He’s out there....you never know where or when it will happen. Double blek.

I want to busy myself by drinking something with an umbrella on the beach and losing myself in a can’t put down book. I want to explore those quaint local stores that house untold treasures if you can get past all the shiny tourist trap crap. I want to hear the story of the history of wherever I am and find it so fascinating that I immediately am inspired to write about it.

In reality, I’m busying myself with golf lessons tonight. Tomorrow is the botanical gardens to see Kim Massie. Thursday is tennis lessons. And then it’s the weekend again. I do so well with busying myself during the week that it gives me an excuse to just have a lazy weekend. Key word is lazy. And it’s not a physical lazy. I get out and do a lot of things, but nothing I would call particularly meaningful or explorative. (is explorative a word? Guess so, my BFF spell check didn’t call me out)

Last year I traveled a lot – Toronto, multiple trips to LA, Hawaii, Dominican Republic...so fun! And I feel like I’m surrounded by world travelers, Floridian travelers, Mexican travelers and even 3rd world travelers that I wish would quit their job and just stay put in their own war torn country.

I need a vacation. December is far too long to wait to travel. And the planned Chicago Cubs long weekend next month is not going to cut it as far as true disconnection from reality is concerned, but it will be so fun! I fear I shall merely get in the car and aimless start driving soon. They will find me sitting in some clearing picnicking with a bottle of wine, reading my book and flying kites when the winds pick up.