Adventure Trip: Day 3

Today's survivor challenge was a hiking/biking combination at Dupont State Forest. The itinerary sounded easy after what we had done the past two days. I can hike. I can bike. No sweat. But I never took endurance into the mix of qualities one needs to hike and bike for more than six hours. By the end of the day, I felt like I had completed a decathlon. I think I did.

The hiking part was easy for me. This was originally what I wanted to do-- to set out with my pack and hike to the top of a mountain. I've done some hiking before but it's always felt like just a taste of what hiking is really like. I've gone on nice strolls through the forest. I wanted to seriously hike.

We set out on Rocky Ridge Trail. The first section was an easy path in the heavily wooded forest. I felt like running it. It looked like the perfect trail to do that but Joe, our guide, promised me the trail would get steeper and more difficult.

Eventually it did. We inclined rather steeply and the conversation quickly lapsed as we struggled for our breath. Maverick, who stated earlier he's not into vertical climbs after one we did just yesterday, followed behind me. Though I was also winded, I practically ran anyway. I played a mental game just to see how fast I could hoof it up. I had to maneuver around slippery, loose stones, protruding tree branches and other obstacles to weave my way up the path. At times, you wouldn't even know it was a path we were following.

All around us the forest was silent and the sunlight that filtered down through the canopy of leaves above us gave the air below a surreal glow. After some time, we came out of the woods into a beautiful meadow filled with wild flowers of every color.
We took the better part of the morning to hit the top of the mountain and we were rewarded with gorgeous views of the forest. All I could see around me was clear, blue skies and greenery everywhere.

On the way back down the mountain, once we got past the steepest part, I did in fact run it. I. ran over two miles downhill. It was absolutely exhilarating. It has to be one of my best runs ever. Not only did I do well on speed and endurance, but I also had the extra challenge of jumping over tree trunks and boulders while on my way. I sat near the car until the guys made it down themselves. Maverick was not thrilled with me running by myself. I could have been eaten by a bear. Or more likely, missed the right turns to get back to the car. Luckily, my wits helped me survive and find the right paths back. I knew I would. I am Adventure Girl.

We ate lunch afterwords, while I cooled down from my run. Joe set up our mountain bikes. I surveyed the bikes and realized I may have made an error in judgment with the run. For some reason, the biking portion of this trip didn't cross my mind when I made the decision to throw a run on top of an already challenging hike. Now I was expected to spend the afternoon mountain biking. Oops.

Maverick laughed at me. He was waiting for this activity. Mountain biking was what he was super-excited to do. Joe told me much of the biking was down hill today and we were going to reward ourselves by seeing some fabulous waterfalls. That perked me up and we hopped on our bikes and began the downward descent.

The biking portion was an absolute thigh killer but so much fun. It was exhilarating to fly down the mountain on a gravel path, whipping through the woods. Maverick was hopping over tree branches and jumping holes in the ground. I just kept myself focused on not falling over while we sped down the path. The gravelly paths were scary at high speeds, especially when a rock caught in the wheels and I would remind myself not to squeeze too hard on the front break, or I would flip over the front wheel.

We biked over twelve miles and saw a handful of gorgeous waterfalls. I never knew until this weekend that North Carolina is "the land of waterfalls". We saw a triple fall and a very wide fall that we climbed under. There were waterfall slides and more waterfalls. It was an absolutely wonderful day of exercise, adventure and scenery. I loved being in nature with no thoughts of anything other than the immediate beauty in front of me.

Adventure Trip: Day 2

Sunday morning in the damp, cold Pisgah Forest, I craned my neck upward at my morning task: It was a behemoth, 600-foot-tall slab of granite called Looking Glass Rock. I, Adventure Girl, planned to climb a portion of Looking Glass Rock. The idea was to use my hands and feet (which were clad in elfin-like rubber-soled rock climbing shoes), along with my guide Joe's verbal assistance actually climb this monstrosity with my own fortitude and a single rope to catch me if I fell.

After Canyoneering yesterday, I was ready to tackle any challenge. I woke up feeling fantastic and charged. But standing at the base of the rock, my confidence stepped down a notch. While Joe set up the ropes, I surveyed the rock, looking for some magical path upward of hand and foot holds. I questioned myself and how I was actually going to scale this rock. I must be out of my mind. The realization dawned on me that this was not going to be a Disney ride--no secret handholds quietly disguised along the way to aid me. Darn it.

Maverick went first. His trip up to the 100+ foot ledge was slow going but sure-footed. With Joe providing directions on where to put his left foot or a good spot to secure his right hand, Maverick faltered a bit at the bottom. He then found his way to the top. He conquered his first leg of the mountain. He was thrilled.

Next was my turn. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and I eagerly waited while Joe attached a rope to my harness. He had wanted me to tie my own knot, which he had just shown us, but I informed him I didn't trust my life to my own knot, thank you very much.

"On bolay, " I announced. "Bolay on, climb."

I assessed the rock. Pitched at a 70-75 degree angle (which when you're standing next to it feels like 90 degrees!) I looked at the base for somewhere to take my first step. The key is to find a good foothold and lift your body weight up once you get the foot secure. In some places on the way up, there were cracks in the rock that provided a great spot to anchor your hands and pull yourself up too. Mostly, there wasn't much more than smooth stone with horizontal cracks from water running down the rock. I had to rely on my elf shoes to grab the rock while my hands were pressed into the stone and I just prayed they'd stick like glue.

My left foot found a good resting place and I hoisted myself up one foot. Good job, Tracy. One foot down, ninety-nine more to go! My right foot found a tiny crevice in the rock and I inched higher. Left foot, right foot, up I go!, keep going, and then about fifteen feet up, stop!

There wasn't anywhere to go. I couldn't figure out where to go next. Joe and Maverick were shouting suggestions but none seemed to be working. I slid myself right, trying to reach a small crack that may have offered reprieve,to no avail. I was stuck. My confidence took another backward step down the Adventure Girl meter and stopped on "Whimpy". I faltered, not sure what to do next and contemplated just going back down.

"No whimpiness here!" I chastised myself and willed my body to continue. A new spot suddenly came into my view and I found my footing to move upward. I was thrilled. I continued moving slowly up the rock with the verbal guidance of Joe. Another ten feet up and again, I was stuck.

This time I couldn't get my feet to stick to the rock. I reached left and tried to grab right, to no avail. I tried a hail mary pass to throw my weight at the rock three feet over (and hoped to stick like spiderman) but instead, lost my balance and my footing and slipped. I dangled from the rope and slammed my body into the rock, 25 feet up.

Maverick shouted up to make sure I was okay. I was okay but my confidence was shot. The Adventure Girl meter slammed down to the bottom of the scale. It read "Loser girl, go home and resume couch potato position."

I was perspiring, panting and quite frankly feeling scared. What was I thinking? I was thinking how when I get into something, it's either all or nothing with me. Jumping into climbing a rock like this was slightly nuts and definitely "all in." My fight or flee instinct begged me to shout "coming down!" but I just couldn't do it.

I truly wanted to conquer this challenge and I knew there was absolutely NO way I'd let Maverick be the only one to do it. I wouldn't allow myself give up. I am Adventure Girl! I will make it to the top and see the spectacular view that was awaiting me.

I got back on my feet and slowly made my way to the top. I grunted and moaned and scraped up my knee but I ignored it all and thought of nothing else but the rock. When I hit the top of the ridge, I stood up, turned around and took in the unbelievable view of green mountains as far as my eyes could see. Then I raised my arms into a "see my big biceps" pose and shouted like Tarzan.

Adventure Girl survived day two in the action-adventure trip I requested. I absolutely loved it!

PS. We forgot our camera but took a few on the I-phone. Here's just a few:
Top photo: Joe setting up our ropes on Looking Glass Rock
2nd photo: The view from our high point

I asked for an adventure vacation

Action-Adventure Day 1

So, here we are in the beautiful mountains of North Carolina. Today, we went Canyoneering. Basically, it's repelling down canyons (today we repelled down a gorge), traversed through water and then rock climbed back up. Yep, that's me, climbing back up the gorge. I surprised even myself doing it well. A few times on the way up, I nervously laughed to myself: "Am I outta my freaking mind?"

After a three-mile hike and canyoneering, we came upon a gorgeous waterfall that absolutely rivaled any I saw along the Hana Highway in Maui. The only way to get to the basin of this waterfall is to rappel down a 70 ft cliff. Here's the 75-foot reward that was waiting:
If five hours of this wasn't enough, we then made our way down to the Green River for a two+hour kayak ride. The river had some good momentum, with nice little class II rapids. Enough to enable Maverick and I to have a good laugh if we got stuck in the middle of a rapid (the water was fairly shallow) but not too consuming that I couldn't just lay back in the canoe at times and let the current take me where it will.

A few spots were hairy and I got stuck on a some rocks. This photo is one of the rapids I rocked on! I cut my kayak perfectly around every protruding boulder and gained some decent speed. Afterward, I raised my paddle and let out a loud victory hoot!

By the time we were done, it was past 6pm. We had started our adventure at 9am; and we were completely exhausted but happy. This is Maverick & I at the end of the kayak trip. We were planning our exit to the closest Starbucks.


We're back in our hotel room now, eating room service and downing Motrin like Halloween candy. Tomorrow, we're back out at 8am for a full day of rock climbing. Hopefully, my muscles will make a full recovery. I have a feeling I'm going to sleep really well tonight. Goodnight.

Vacation surprise

Tomorrow I'm leaving on my anniversary vacation and Maverick planned the entire trip in secrecy.

Originally, we were planning it together. I wanted rain forest; he wanted fishing. Unfortunately, it's impossible to find fish in a rain forest. After several attempts to decide on a vacation-spot together, I threw up my hands. Maverick decided to make all the arrangements himself and completely leave me out of the decision-making.

At first, I thought his idea to keep the destination secret was brilliant. I have absolutely no idea where we are going. I only know the planned activities. While the concept of a “complete surprise” was charming at the beginning, now I’m finding it quite the opposite.

What if I don’t have the right shoes? That would be a tragedy. So, maybe I’m exaggerating…just a little. (Yes, I can already hear you laughing at this one, snickering about what I would do if I don’t have the right color-coordinated flip- flop…!)

I know I could just buy whatever I forget; but in my new age of “I deserve it, but I’m still not buying it”, I’m going to try to make do with whatever I have. We’ll see how that goes.

Not having the right clothes is only a small part of it. I hate not knowing. The simple fact is that I hate secrets, unless I’m in on the secret. It’s killing me that everyone around me seems to know where I’m going. They taunt me and drop hints. But collectively, everyone’s hints make no sense, but I'm guessing it's an evil plot to
confuse me.

I don’t like to not have the opportunity to research our destination. Part of the excitement of any trip is scouring the internet, reading travel blogs and studying trip advisor to seek out the out-of-the-way treasures not in the guidebooks and the off the beaten path.

Truthfully, the main reason I hate not knowing is because it kills me to not be in control. I have absolutely no say in anything. And that goes against my grain. Maverick is enjoying this part of the secret and milking it for all he can:

What time is our flight? “Why does it matter? We'll get there when we get there.”
What’s the weather like? “We'll definitely be having some weather. May be hot; may be cold.”
Should I pack fancy clothes or casual clothes for dinner? “Yes”
What about our daytime activities you planned? “You’ll either absolutely love them, or you’ll die trying.”


I know we’re going canyoneering, hiking, mountain biking and river kayaking. I asked for an outdoorsy, thrill-packed adventure trip. I know Maverick's going to surpass any expectations. I know it will be fantastic. My husband's always over-the-top, so I don't expect anything less from him this time. I'm actually very excited, albeit anxious, to go.

For the record, I really don't want to know the secret, even though I’ve been hassling him to tell me. I’m just very excited to have him all to myself for five days. Just us. However, I am going to give you my top 3guesses, so just in case I’m right, you’ll be my witness. I'll let you know where it is when I get back.

1) Utah
2) Colorado
3) North Carolina

For those of you that don’t know where I’m going, I’ll be sure to twitter as soon as I know. :)

Top 10 Things NOT to Do on Your Girls Vacation

I just returned from a fabulous girls trip to Santa Fe. Lucky for me, I have another one mid-summer as well with another group. The more I talk to girlfriends who take vacations with their friends, the more I realize there’s a common thread of annoyances among us. Here’s the top 10 things to NOT do on your next girls trip (especially if you want to be invited back next year.)

1) Don’t be cheap. There’s a world of difference between frugal and cheap. When everyone else has bought a round of drinks, don’t decide you’re suddenly not thirsty when it’s your turn. Don’t try and nickel and dime the group either. If you eat out, just split the bill. If you don’t want to spend money on something, such as a massage, then don’t. Just don’t make it everyone else’s problem by complaining you have no one to hang out with while all your other girlfriends are relaxing at the spa.
2) Don’t sweat the small stuff. Whether your group consists of 3 girlfriends or 10, it’s hard for everyone to be happy with every decision the group makes. You may not love the restaurant chosen, you may not be thrilled with the spa times. Someone has made an effort to herd the flock into making a decision. It’s made, deal with it. Furthermore, when it comes to making a decision, don’t say you don’t care and then bitch once a decision is made.
3)Don’t come without cash. No one wants to stop at the bank five times because you’ve only extracted $40. Take out enough money for the entire trip so you don’t have to inconvenience the rest of us. Unless you’re lucky like me and can rely on your girlfriends to be your personal banker. (Thanks Indie & Jackie!)
4)Don’t be passive. No one wants to be in charge the entire time. Don’t be the lazy bitch who lays back waiting for everyone else to make decisions. Take ownership of one piece of the trip and work it out for the rest. Remember, this trip is for you to take a vacation from your real life and party with your friends. It’s not an excuse for you remove yourself from reality and rely on everyone else to take care of you.
5)Don’t talk about your husband and kids the whole time. These are a few of the top reasons we go away with our girlfriends in the first place: to forget about our families and responsibilities for just a little while and to think of nothing else but ourselves. If I have to listen to you yap about them the entire time, I rather stay home.
6)Don’t burden your friends. When I’m on my girls trip, I want to do what’s good for me, when it’s good for me. For as long as I feel like it, without strings attached. So if you’re fried at the pool and I want to catch more rays, just go off alone. Don’t try to convince me to leave with you. We don’t have to be attached at the hip. Thanks.
7)Don’t assume everyone would be potentially good girls-trip comrades. This point goes back to my “Saturday Night Worthy” post. It’s one thing to spend an evening with a girlfriend. It’s another thing to consider sharing a room with her. There’s only so many girls I can even imagine traveling with. If you're not sure if she's girls-trip worthy, include her on your next overnight trip. Don't kill your whole vacation to learn you were wrong.
8)Don’t judge. It’s amazing what you learn about your girlfriends while you’re away. One may hoard the bacon and another may flirt incessantly with cute boys. It’s all part of the experience but probably not what she does on a normal basis. No one needs to hear your critical catty comments. Let her have her fun. Letting loose is what it’s all about.
9) Don’t be high-maintenance. Stop asking what we’re doing next. Stop checking out your hair. Stop asking me if you have the right clothes on. Stop relying on me to help you make decisions. It doesn’t matter what time we finish what we’re doing nor do we need to plan every minute of the day. Relax. That’s the whole point. If you need a formal agenda, feel free to write that up yourself. Just don’t hold me to it.

The last and golden rule is:
10)Don’t tell your other friends how great your girls trip was. Breaking this rule is a sure-fire way to alienate your friends who were not included. Furthermore, when they hear how much fun you had, they’ll expect to be included the next time. The same is true for husbands. Surely your man can live a long, happy life without knowing all the details. Plus, you’re friends probably don’t want you spilling the beans to your husband. I know it can be a hard rule to live by, but just remember the old adage “whatever happens in Vegas…”.

Anyone disagree?

A star chart for lip plumper

I decided tonight that I need to make myself a star chart, just like the one I had as a little girl. My mother made it for me and it tracked certain responsibilities I had to do on a daily basis. Do my chores, get a shiny gold star. The chart was intended to reinforce good behavior, so a certain number of stars equaled a wonderful prize, such as a new Barbie or some stickers.

I'm frustrated because I can't seem to get going on certain things I know I need to do for myself. I wonder if the star chart would help motivate me like it did so many years ago. Like remembering to take my eye makeup off at night. I want to do it every night. I know it will only take two minutes, but when I’m ready for sleep, two minutes feels like two extra hours, and all I want to do at that point is get into my bed. So, yes, I skip it many nights.

Honestly, I really don’t care if I wake up in the morning with raccoon eyes. It shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, to admit that I stink at being a responsible woman who takes care of my skin as well as I should. But admiting that fact make me feel like I’m wearing a scarlet letter. No woman in her rightful mind says it aloud either. And when we do admit it to our close girlfriends, we giggle at the relief to know we’re not the only ones.

There are those girls who wouldn’t dream of sleeping with their makeup on. Those girls have hour-long rituals of mud masks and toners, lotions and potions and bottles of hopeful magic. Those girls have drawers full of the latest and greatest in skin-care who-ha and all the latest rage they learn about from their shiny Vogue magazines. I’m definitely not one of those girls.

Sometimes, however, I long to be that girl… who sits on a chaise in front of a well-lit mirror, in a long silky robe with kitten heel slippers at her dressing table, dressing for dinner. The woman who has oodles of time to pay attention to herself. I am that woman when I’m on vacation. Then, I allow myself a whole hour and a half to get dressed in a beautiful marble hotel bathroom, vino in hand, jazz on the radio. I take my sweet time to pluck, shave, trim, inspect, moisturize, glamorize, spritz, curl my lashes, flatten my hair and otherwise enjoy the rituals of womanhood.

But in my reality, I wash and brush with one hand and tear my puppy Casey off my robe with the other. I’m an on-the-go kind of mothery-professional-sort-of-career-girl who wears cargo pants and flip flops to work just because I can. Dressing, like I do on vacation, is a luxury. In my daily life, reality is only getting the fuck dressed and out of the house, kids washed, brushed and fed, shoes on, backpacks packed, and oh, yes, there’s lunch to be made this morning too, plus I’m ten minutes late. I’m tossing the waffles in the sink that my kid asked for and microwaving a second breakfast of pancakes that she didn’t because she changed her mind. I’m getting the dog walked, poop scooped, and sufficiently hydrated and energized. I’m running back into the house, maybe once, usually twice, because I’ve forgotten something. All before 8am.

So when I say looking in the mirror while applying mascara is a luxury, you can see the picture. But there are some things I should do to take better care of myself, like remove my makeup at night. For once, I should make myself a priority again. Because only then will I take an extra minute to do something nice, and god forbid, healthy, for myself.

I had that brilliant epiphany the other weekend. Tonight, though, days later, after all that self-insight, I still have yet to do anything about it. I figured if I reward myself for completing the goal, not only will my chart be filled with lots of gold stars, but I’ll teach myself a new, good-for-me habit. My skin will thank me for it too. And then I can reward myself with that cute lip plumper I saw online at Sephora, because I always wished I had a pouty mouth. Then, as my motto goes, I will deserve it.

My girfriend Lexi

The other day, I had a long conversation with my friend Lexie. I thanked her for being one of my best friends. She’s always there for me when I need her. Sometimes, I rely on her to calm me down when I get all out of whack. I have a tendency to overreact, over-think, over-analyze, over-process, over-over-over everything. Talking to her helps bring me down from the ledge (or cave) I want to jump off of or crawl into. She helps me sort through the clutter and find reason. She reminds me that I’m not Superwoman or Woman of the Year, and that’s okay. She holds my hand when I start to panic that I can’t finish it all, be the best, find perfection, and overcome every challenge I throw in my own way.

Through our conversations, I realized how much I’ve been able to breathe deeper lately and not care so much about everything. Not sweat the small things. In planning my girls’ trip this year, the group is debating where to go. Planning a girls trip should not be so difficult. Usually I care and I care a lot. This year, I realize it doesn’t matter where I go, if I’m with my girls. I’ll even go back to the place we swore off in the first place. It just doesn’t matter because I know I’ll have fun. Lexie, however, was asked to stay home. If she can’t contribute to the conversation, she’s not welcome in it.

Being as laid back as Lexie has wonderfully therapeutic benefits. If you don’t put too much time into agonizing over every single detail, decisions are easier to make. It doesn’t have to be perfect, the best, the greatest. It doesn’t matter so much because it will all be good. Wherever we decide to go. Letting up on just a little frees up quite a bit of stress. Allowing others to help—or take charge of things, even—doesn’t mean it’s not going to get done right, as I always believed. It may not be done just so, like I would do it, but it will get done in another equally good fashion. I sort of like the vacation from it, actually.

Lexie reminds me that life is too short. I have to enjoy the life I was given. The body I live inside. The mind’s space I occupy. The cards I was dealt. She helps me dispose of the unproductive thoughts and focus on what matters. It’s much more productive for me to focus on a few important things at once than endless unimportant things all at the same time. I’ve learned from Lexie to stop fixating on the bad stuff I can’t change and work on the good stuff that I can make great. I’m not saying I’m all the way there yet, but I’m sure trying.

I’m lucky to have Lexie in my life. Hope all of you have your Lexie too.

Vacation calling etiquette

My recent post regarding whether it's okay to call a girlfriend while she's on vacation has received a great response. Thank you! I'm truly enjoying this blogging experiment, doing some writing like I've always wanted to do, and developing my own creative outlet. And as an added bonus, I get feedback from my readers and friends, which I absolutely love. (Even when you tell me some of my posts are bitchy!)

So I have two requests of you, my readers:

Comment on my blog. If you read something you like (or don't!), respond to it. Say what you think. It's a shame when I'm the only one to hear your similarly funny stories. I want to share it with all my girlfriends. You can respond with your name or you can respond anonymously. Just get engaged, share your comments and join my tribe.

Vacation phone calls, or not! Would you like to be called while on vacation? Should I expect that you may be calling me? I just want to know your stance.

Tonight, Jamaica told me, "Definitely not. I will not call you on vacation. My mind will be far away from here!" That's cool. Now I know that unless I'm having a true girly emergency, when Jamaica's away, do not hit #8 on speed dial!

Then, another girlfriend hit me with: "Of course, I want you to call! You think I want to sit around for three days,with my husband, by myself ?"

Here's my answer: If I'm traveling with the family, call away. I can probably use a break from the choke-hold of kids asking me to buy them something else or from the exhaustion of trying to do something fun while the kids are bickering and would have really been satisfied had I just let them play their DS's until their brains melt and ooze from their ears.

But if I'm alone with Maverick, don't bother calling. There's no way I'm answering because most likely, I won't care where my phone is. It's that simple. So tell me, so I'm clear. Do you keep your phone on, fully charged and close by when you're on vacation?

Vacation from friends

When you go on vacation, it’s usually to escape the headaches and stresses of everyday life. The job, the spouse, the kids, the bills, the carpooling, the traffic, the grocery store…whatever. But what about your friends? Do we go on vacation to escape our friends too? Sometimes, the obvious answer is yes. But if you have a girlfriend with whom you speak to regularly and she goes on vacation, does she really want you calling for the daily gabfest just like when she’s not on vacation?

I encountered this situation recently. I would never think to call a girlfriend on vacation because when I’m on vacation, I like to pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist. If I want to check in with you, I’ll call you. But another girlfriend called our vacationing friend. I wouldn’t want my vacationing friend to think I was not a good friend if I didn’t check in to see how everything was going. Would I look like a bad friend if I just asked about your trip when you return? Luckily, my vacationing girlfriend called me before I spent another day debating if I should or shouldn't call.

Of course, I missed my friend while she was away. But I don’t know if that’s enough justification for calling. I figured if she didn’t feel like talking, she could let my call go straight to voicemail. But then she’d have it hanging over her head that she needed to call me back at some point and that creates stress. But if I call and she doesn’t want to talk, but answers anyway, I’m still creating stress. Either way, it’s a lose-lose scenario and I’m perpetuating the vicious cycle of why we go on vacation in the first place, to reduce stress.

Unless, of course, she wants to talk while on vacation. Should we clarify up front, before you leave on vacation, whether we should talk while you’re gone? And if so, will you be calling me or should I call you? Maybe we should just text? Or go on vacation somewhere with no cell signal. The rules aren’t clear and clearly vary by girlfriend. What’s your rule? Let me know, so I don’t stress.

I deserve it!

I’m a good mother, wife, daughter and friend. I commute two hours a day. I work hard at a full-time job with a lot of responsibility. I try to always do what’s expected of me. I often put others needs before my own. I make sacrifices every day for the well-being of my family. I try to be a good person and go above and beyond. I try hard to do all the right things all the time.

So, when I want something, I think I deserve it. It’s my mantra and I want to spread the word. You deserve it! Too often, we women deny ourselves. Why?

Why do we girls wait so long between our night out when the guys get together every single week to watch football?

Why do we watch for those gorgeous shoes to go on sale when the guys just run right out and pick up a new TV or computer or phone?

Why do we have to wait for a special anniversary for that piece of jewelry we want when the guys have no problem splurging for themselves on a boat?

Why do we settle for a 3-day trip around the corner when the guys fly off to another country for a week?

Why can’t we have a kid-free Saturday afternoon just for no reason?

Slowly, I’ve been watching my mantra take hold on my girlfriends and I’m proud. One girlfriend splurged on a new ring and told me she “deserved it.” Good for her! Another girlfriend told her husband she was going out and he was going to babysit because she deserved it. Good for her!

Not that I’m proposing we become spoiled bitches. Not at all. I just hate to see the inequities of how men and women view how easily (or not) it is to make ourselves happy.

When a man wants to run to the store to pick up something he wants or needs, he just says “Honey, gotta run out for a bit, be home later!” When a woman wants to run to the store, she has to make sure the man is going to be home, get approval for the trip, and confirm that he will, in fact, watch the kids. Sometimes, that involves making sure the kids are fed or bathed or sleeping before we women can leave!

Furthermore, when a man goes away, he just announces the dates of his trip. End of story. He assumes that everything regarding the house and children will just magically be taken care of while he’s away. When a woman goes away, she has to coordinate all the kid’s schedules, lunches, homework, carpooling etc before she walks out the door. She usually also makes extra babysitting arrangements too just to give her husband a “break” from his “babysitting” duties. It’s a carefully planned itinerary that sometimes takes as much work as coordinating the Inauguration.

Believe me, we women will do whatever it takes to go away, especially when its for a girls vacation. There’s nothing like the freedom from house and children and work and man. It’s well worth whatever coordination is necessary to escape every once in a while. Why? Because I deserve it.

Vacation packing hell

I’m taking a ten-day vacation to an island far, far away. Maverick and I are going to celebrate our ten year anniversary (no, we didn’t intentionally plan the 10 years/10 day thing but I like that romantic idea.)

I can't wait to go. The only thing holding back my enthusiasm is all the planning that goes into packing my suitcase. Why, women, why do we complicate such things?

When Maverick packs, it's a last minute affair. For men, it's never more complicated than brown shoes, black shoes, sneakers, flip flops...I realize as I write this that Maverick may care more about his shoes than the typical man...shorts, t-shirts, dress shirts, jeans, boxers, done. It takes him about 15 minutes and half of the stuff comes right out of the dry cleaning bags into his suitcase. He's become such an expert packer that over the years, I've watched him downsize his suitcase so that any trip he goes on for almost any length of time, all his clothes can fit into one tiny 21" suitcase.

For me, I need at least a 26", plus a shoe bag, plus a carry-on. And this is for a weekend excursion. How the hell will I manage 10 days with such little luggage? I mean, could I possibly not take every coordinating pair of shoes that goes with each carefully selected outfit? Should I try to downsize the "extra" outfits, bikinis, undies, bras, work out clothes, cover ups, shorts, tanks, socks, books, lotions and magazines that I originally planned to pack as back-ups in the event that I decide not to wear any of my planned outfits?

Consider the fact that I have to pack the outfits for many different occasions while on vacation such as what wear to breakfast. Then I need beach wear, sightseeing wear, lounge wear for between the beach and sightseeing, work out clothes, and dinner wear, and after-dinner ware ;) That's six outfits per day times eight full days. Not to mention the two days of traveling to Hawaii and back, which require the proper airplane wear--you know, something that travels well, is comfortable yet stylish, keeps me warm but isn't too hot and makes me look fabulous when I hop off the jet, spritz my face with Evian (I'm dying to do that like the Hollywood stars!) and saunter on over to the Four Seasons. Really. I just can't walk into the Four Seasons looking jet-lagged and puffy.

Which reminds me that I also have to consider what to carry on the plane. I'll need an overnight bag for which to stow my books (both novel and Sudoku puzzles); two magazines (one frivolous fashion rag and one "serious" reading of Time or Fast Company); lip glosses in several shades (because I never know what sort of lip-gloss color mood I'm in until the moment strikes me); tic tacs & gum (again, one can never be sure what the momentary preference will be); pen & pencil (can't journal in pencil and can't Suduko in pen), journal; laptop; camera; makeup bag; snacks; water; socks; hoodie; neck roll; travel guides; sunglasses; I-pod...ugh, my shoulder is hurting just thinking of all the stuff I have to carry!

So I started a packing list that will never get quite done. Instead, I'll stand in my closet for hours the night before the flight agonizing over what to bring and what not to bring. I'll wish I could just Fed Ex my closet. I'll try on several combinations and drive Maverick nuts asking "which do you like better?" then I'll get aggrevated when he doesn't chose the one I was secretly hoping he'd chose. My bedroom will be in total chaos as I painstakingly pack. My bathroom and jewelry drawers will look as if they've been ransacked by a burglar. (Because of course, aside of all the coordinating shoes, I'll need six pairs of practically identical but ever-so-slightly-different earrings and necklaces to go with the outfits.)

By the time I go to bed, I'll be totally exhausted and irritable. As I close my eyes and try to rest, I'll remember that I had forgotten to buy something I desperately wanted for the trip.

Then I'll wake up early to recheck whatever decisions I made the night before. I'll unpack a few things and if there's an inch of space left in the suitcase, I'll shove in another tank, another bikini, another pair of earrings.

If you're exhausted reading this, then you can imagine how I feel after this process. By the time I zip and lock the last bag and get into the car to make our way to the airport, I'll be completely ready for a vacation. I can't wait. I just wish going on a vacation didn't require so much work.

Jinx, buy me a coke! (or not)

During my girls' weekend away, a friend and I were strolling along a boardwalk that connected the Gulf of Mexico to our hotel. Strong afternoon sun, paired with even stronger afternoon cocktails, left us both more-than-slightly tipsy as we chatted along the path back to the hotel pool.

It was a rather hot day, and once we climbed the stairs that raised the boardwalk over the beach and into the lush foliage that lined the boardwalk, we were offered a pleasant reprieve from the sun. As soon as we hit the shady portion, our typically incessant banter slowed and for a few minutes we walked in silence. (Perhaps it was the delightful shade that got us to shut our yaps, or maybe it was the wooziness that accompanied the drinks mixed with the 90 degree temperature--I'm not sure.)

We continued to walk down the path completely alone, lost in our own private thoughts, until a family came upon us from the opposite direction. A young mother was leading her brood towards the beach. She was laden with floating devices and beach toys and other necessities to occupy her small children that were in tow. The older child, perhaps 6 or 7, followed behind her, then the husband (not surprisingly, his hands were empty) and finally bringing up the rear was a barefoot toddler crying.

My friend and I turned to watch as the family passed us by, and the mother called to her husband that the boardwalk was probably too hot to walk upon barefoot. (Ugh, ya think? I commented to my friend, as I stopped at that moment to put on my shoes....a dark wooden, splintery boardwalk that has a sign at the entrance that clearly states: Shoes are Recommended" must have been overlooked by the hapless mother...but I digress and that's not the point of my story....)

At the point at which the family with the shoeless child passed, two conversations were had between my friend and I. You know, it was one of those "Jinx, buy me a Coke" moments when we both turned to each other at the exact, same time to comment on what just happened. Except you usually only buy your friend a Coke when the same thought comes out of each others' mouths. In this case, it was not the same but still of interest to me...follow along.

So my friend's reaction to the family was to wonder what was happening at that very same time with her husband and kids at her home. She started to question if one kid would have a sunburn and if her other kid would be wearing any sunscreen at all. She wondered aloud if her husband would be smart enough to remember to apply a second application of sunscreen after the kids got out of the pool. Blah blah blah.

She essentially STOPPED being on a vacation and allowed herself to slip back into her role she played at home....the leading lady part of "Mother." I betcha if she had her cell phone handy, she would have made a call there and then to ensure the worrisome sunscreen was reapplied.

I, on the other hand, had this immediate and gratifying thought at the very same second within our "jinx, buy me a coke" moment. Here's what crossed my mind with glee: Thank god for girls' trips so I don't have to THINK about that for the next 72 hours!

I laugh at my friend. Why do you think about that now?, I rib her. This is your time, I remind. Truthfully, she's not very good at forgetting, even for a while, and truthfully, I can be very good at forgetting.

Once a year, I go away with my girlfriends and leave the worry, cleaning, shopping, cooking, preparing, planning, chicken nuggets, bathing, laundry, work, husband, stress, responsibilities, appointments, organizing, compromising, kids, and check-lists all home and take off for three days of me.

It's all about me... and sun, and me and drinks, and me and exercising (or not), and me and my friends. It's me, me, me. I smiled as I had that thought of carelessness regarding sunscreen on my kids. I know my husband will take care of it. The kids will be perfectly fine without me for three measly days. So, of course, I torment my poor friend and poke fun at her for not playing along as well as I.

But truthfully, later, soberly, I have to question if it IS okay to turn off my brain for a while. Am I being selfish? Should I call home more often than my once-daily check-in? Am I being a bad mother or wife? Maybe I should have a little guilt. I mean what would all this pleasure be for if not somehow counterbalanced with a little Jewish guilt, right?

Maybe. Maybe not. But not today for me.

Zen and the perfect Mojito

Today at a hotel pool bar, I ordered a mojito. A mojito is a tasty blend of freshly crushed mint and lime, mixed with real sugar cane, rum and soda. As I watched the bartender mix my cocktail, I realized I was mesmerized by the hypnotic effect the violent shaking of the mixing glass had upon me. I felt as if I could physically taste the drink already. I couldn't stand it--it was pure pleasure watching the cocktail being prepared and torturous at the same time because I had to wait--seconds even!--to taste it. By the time the concoction was poured into the glass--my mouth had started to froth at the sides in anticipation.

Perhaps it was my excitement paired with a touch of impatience, but I had to dive right into the drink as soon as the bartender brought the drink to me. The ice had barely finished doing its first lap around the glass and I already had the straw to my lips within milliseconds. The mojito was like a drug I had to get coursing through my veins immediately. Do not pass go. Hell, don't even worry about my friends' drinks that needed to be delivered. Get mojito into self as quickly as possible.

And so I did. Just like that. Some went splashing down my arm in my carelessness to feed the need. I took one large, sloppy sip, tilted my head back and exhaled, letting out a perceptible "ahhhh." It was delicious. It tasted as good as it looked watching the bartender make it. I took another sip, much slower, longer, more deliberate. I closed my eyes to enjoy and allowed my tongue time to actually taste the refreshing mix of flavors. I breathed another long sigh. (Silently, this time because I got an odd look from the guy standing next to me the first time!)

I smiled and thought how something as simple as a deliciously cold drink on a brutally hot day at a hotel pool bar could make me feel so internally happy. Maybe my girls trip was not going to provide any sense of enlightenment but surely the zen of the perfect mojito could help me find inner peace through the enjoyment my beverage. Whatever it was--either the zen or the alcohol content--I was on vacation with the girls and I was feeling great. Girls' weekends rule.