The courage to say "fuck it and just go."

How do you say that this is what you want to do and do it? 

How do you summon the conviction to do that? How do you live with yourself as you work through the kinks of making that new life work? I used to be like that, now I’ve settled into complacency and self-doubt and uncertainty and just fear and vanity and everything else in between and I cannot seem to be able to get up and just do it. Just do it. Or maybe I feel I am too old for a fresh start.

I almost did it last year and somewhere in between the gumption I had summoned that kept me going from about February to July, I just lost it and instead settled for this, hoping against hope that there was a reason for my decision to stay. There is no reason, maybe to make me think real hard about this, or save some more money, or have the chance to travel (which I love) but so far no reason has emerged from the clouds, shouting, “Hey there, I am the reason.” To which I fall and bow before it, saying, "Oh hail, the grandest of reasons." Nope. Nothing quite that dramatic. It’s quite the opposite I’m afraid.

I feel like perhaps interviewing everyone who’s had the guts to do this. Where did they get the guts from? What gave them the courage: money saved, family, friends, Our Lord Jesus Christ? What exactly told them it was okay to leave their life behind and just get up and move, with no job, no friends in the new place, just hope…hope for a better life, hope for a fresh start?

If you happen to know one of these people, ask them to send me a word or two and tell me to knock it off already, quit talking about it and just do it…just do it, Anita, just do it. It will all work out in the end.

To which I ask myself, "Are you sure?"

Have you seen a thing of beauty?

As Betty White so eloquently described, "In her day, looking at someone's vacation pictures was considered a punishment." No one wants to hear about someone else having so much fun. I certainly don't. I always try to keep details of my vacation to myself, even though I am jumping for joy and yearning to share the news with people. It's often not necessary. I don't want to hear about their fun so I shouldn't succumb them to having to hear about mine. Tit for tat as they say!

That being said, I shall expose the details to my blog. Why else do we have blogs? It gives us a chance to share with no one in particular, but us mostly, the details of our lives that we may want to remember, that are fit for general consumption.

One of the highlights of my trip was achieving my dream of driving from Santa Barbara to Los Angeles.

I heard about this drive sometime last year. I also read about it in travel journals, blogs, etc. My dream of traveling to SB started last year, once upon a time, SB just came to me. Now that I've returned from it, I honestly do not know why it did. But it did. It sounded like, "Go to Santa Barbara." Exactly like that. I tried to go last year but it didn't work out. Then, someone told me, Go to L.A and then drive to SB, the drive is just so beautiful. 

When my world came crashing earlier this year, I thought, oh wow so I may never get to do this. Can we do this? Once again, for my trip in April I tried again to do it; but SB was just not affordable. Then, of course my birthday rolled around and I thought, surely we have to do this for our birthday. Comon, now. So I started to plan it. The rental companies at this time were just not cooperating. At first it was the hotels and I had to break the bank in order to accommodate myself for 48 hours in SB. Then, the rental companies wanted to charge me double the daily rate to pick up the car from SB and drop it off in LAX. Why would you that? How cruel? I rented the car anyway, but I agreed to drop off in SB. The car rental attendant advised me that if I really wanted to do that, I could return the car as regularly scheduled but then ask them to drop it off in LAX. Good tip, for which I am so grateful to that young man for sharing.

This I did. When time came as I aimed to drop it off in SBA, I politely asked the lady, in my sweetest voice if I could drive it to LA instead. She asked, "You really want to do that?" Like she was warning me. I said, yeah. The buses were charging $48 to take me there and since I already had the car, why not?

Once she said Yes, I felt like the heavens had opened. You know how you want for something for so long and it finally presents itself to you, you are immediately stunned by the outcome. This was the final piece of the puzzle, of all the intricate vacation plans, the final piece that would seal the deal and complete all my wants for the vacation. When she said, Yes, I thought, oh wow! everything seems to be working out. If I can get there safe and sound, I shall thank God. I thanked Him already that she said yes. And I'll thank Him more if make it there safe and sound. So, at that point my dream was becoming a reality. This rarely happens to me. It felt good.

As I drove through HWY 101 South, passing through Carpinteria, Ventura County, some abandoned beaches that were so picturesque make you want to stop and behold how gorgeous they were, I kept thinking, "So I did it. I finally got to do this." I screamed (more like a squeal), just as I promised myself that I would if I ever got the chance to do it. I didn't scream as loudly as I would have wanted to, or as I had imagined, but I screamed. Maybe next time, I will finally let myself go and just scream. Who knows when I will get the chance again?

I didn't take any pictures, sadly. That ride is so snaky that you need to give it your full concentration. I just took it all in as I sped past it. I hardly get overtaken by beauty, landscaping, nature unfolding beauty but this time I was. It just makes you want to stop and hear your heart beating and remind yourself, Oh, wow, I am alive.

My Trip to Solvang via Santa Ynez

I've been meaning to write about my trip to Solvang the day after my birthday, but I've been overwhelmed by life and its stupidities. 

On June 7th, I had planned to spend one night in Solvang, at the Wine Valley Inn and Spa, as my personal treat to myself following a couple of nights in Santa Barbara (SB). I was super excited about this for reasons I don't really remember right now. 

One, I heard the movie Sideways was shot there and I thought, so that's where they screened that wine awareness movie. Being a lover of wine and good food I thought it'd be a good experience. However, I didn't book the same hotel where they stayed though, I heard they stayed somewhere in Buellton, which is a few miles up from Santa Ynez and Solvang, but Solvang was good enough. Another reason was just a chance to visit some more of the area, tour some more wineries, have a different version of Napa, which I had strived to go earlier in the year but ended up only visiting.

Solvang is a Danish inspired little town. It's very little, more like a strip mall actually, covered in hotels, little antique shops and restaurants. It's really quaint. If you look over the small shops and cobbled stone streets, you would see mountains, gorgeous acres of it, spread infinitely. I had never seen anything like it. No trees, just mountains, or rolling hills, as they term them. 

I departed SB unceremoniously. For some reason I was in a hurry to leave SB. I kept asking myself, why but I couldn't understand why. I just felt like I had seen everything there was to see, and when I tried to do one last look at the Pier, it was bloody cold. Maybe in warmer weather, I could warm up to this place, but it was cold and misty. Worse off, my SB hotel room was small and ugly, just meant for sleeping and even sleeping in it was difficult because of the noisy AC...so if you were me, wouldn't you leave early? I just wanted to get to the Wine Valley Inn, check in and then have a good night's rest, currently missing 2 days worth of sleep, so I was partially exhausted. 

It was on my way to Solvang that I encountered one of the reasons why I love to travel: the sense of adventure and discovery. 

Mapquest had shown me the direction to Solvang, using an alternate route from US 101 hwy. I cannot remember the name of the highway but it was the crookedest, narrowest 2 lane "do not pass" highway I have ever driven in. It was made worse by the fact that I was driving a rental car which I was not used to driving. I was not sure of its speed, it's brakes, it's ability to tip over, to stop at will, if at all. I was just scared shitless. And beyond the lanes were these rocks, rocky valleys lay underneath the roads so if you miss your way, just the slightest tilt of the wheel you could do a nose dive into these rocks and that would be that, no one would even dare to go down there to retrieve your bones. For us single travelers, no one would even remember my last location. I couldn't wait for it to end. I kept looking out for the signs to Santa Ynez but nothing came up. 

At this point, traveling alone and renting a car to drive through the Southern California wine region didn't seem like such a good idea. I kept saying to myself, "What were you thinking, Anita?"

Several cars braved the "do not pass" lanes and whisked past me as I did about 40 miles an hour. I was surprised that I could even press on the gas at all considering how scared I was. Forgetting how freaky the road was and the death dip down, it was beautiful scenery. To look over you and see mountains that have been partially carved to make way for the paved roads, it's as if you're actually cutting through the mountains, to do all that so early in the day, is quite a rush. A rush you can appreciate after encountering boring days in Atlanta...but I digress. 

To cut a long story short, after a couple of stops, I finally made it to Santa Ynez. 

Nothing much to see. Stopped by a grocery store, so much wine, didn't know where to start. Made it to Solvang. Oh, how quaint! It's like a mini-Europe in Southern California. Do people actually live here? I passed a couple of bars and watering holes on my way...they probably do then. 

Checked in. Room was nice, very nice. Wine bottles, reasonably priced liquor, cute fridge, no microwave though, fluffy pillows, soft bedding. Wish I had booked this for my birthday instead, but I couldn't have made that drive from Santa Barbara to here that time of night. But still next time, something this nice, no hole in the wall hotels anymore. Please...

Took a walk, stepped into the first wine tasting store I could find -- Presidio Winery. Their wine was good but not memorable, until I tasted their Viognier which was superb, crisp to the tongue and refreshingly cold. I told the tasting room attendant of my trip debacle and he seemed really sympathetic. He advised me to take the US 101 Hwy on my home (as I was now dreading the trip home). The trip is longer but the highway is a much better (and hopefully safer) ride. From there I moved over to the Lucas and Lewellen Wine store. They had a bigger group of people, more couples tasting, stuffy wine attendants but the quality of their wine made up for it. I particularly enjoyed their sparkling wine - Brut. 

Had dinner at Cafe Angelica using a 2-for 1 coupon. Geez, 2-for-1, when you're alone, how does that work? Well, it's easy, I actually saved them money on this. I used it for 2 meals, which is starter and entree as opposed to 2 entrees. Being famished out of my mind, I quickly gobbled up the food. Their chicken piccata was battered and fried, so it was tough to chew. I didn't enjoy it at all. The crab cakes appetizer was much tastier comprised of big, juicy crab cakes on a salad bed. 

Walked back to my hotel for an early night viewing of the Bachelorette.

Long day, don't you think?

A shoe is a lovely thing to waste

I bought these pair of Calvin Klein black pumps back in December 2008 from Bloomingdale's (same as the photo, only without the peep-toes).

That was the Christmas I thought buying myself designer shoes was the correct route to go. We are a big girl now so let's buy big girl shoes. I ended up buying a pair of Stuart Weitzmann red pumps that were a disaster. Hurt too much, and look too pretty to sell. A pair of Kate Spade patent leather platform shoes. They are good, not great, but good. I can actually wear them to work and they are not too dressy. A pair of Coach Platforms that are just gorgeous. These ones are 4 inch high platforms with a peep toe. I get compliments on them all the time. They have that "doo-wop" thing about them. Love you Coach. Then, the Calvin Klein pumps, which are regular looking black pumps I thought I could use to smarten up my work suits.

The first time I wore them to a function back in December 2008, as soon as I stepped out of the vehicle and started to walk, they started to pull from my feet. You know that feeling when you're walking but your shoes would rather stay behind. And if you don't watch your step they just may stay behind. And since this was me on my somewhere, it was uber embarrassing. I managed it that day and thought, it's probably me and my big in-step. No, it wasn't. After that I tried them again, to a place that involved little walking but a lot of show and tell. Yes, but I had to walk in there, right? As I walked in there, I almost tripped because the beautiful shoes wanted to stay back on the road.

I sent it to the shoemaker a couple of times to have it fixed. They put pads in the in-step and asked me to test it out. That did not work. Then, they reinforced the ankle grip to tighten its hold on me. That didn't work. Then, I bought these new pads that you can use for your shoes so your feet don't slip forward. This made it worse. It made the front part of it so tight that my toes were gasping for air. This is now 2010 and I've worn the supposedly everyday pumps about 4 times. At this point I was utterly upset, Comon this is Calvin Klein, you're supposed to know what you're doing not put out badly made shoes.

I decided to write to them on their website. I needed to alert them of their error in putting out this poorly made shoe. And let's just say they were not amused.

To: customerservice@calvinklein.com

Name: Anita

Wrote: I bought this pair of shoes from one of your retailers - Style #E0172, Name: Shana Kidskin.

Ever since I bought these shoes, they've been defective. The shoes slip out from your feet and are very uncomfortable. They are not well-made. I've spent quite a bit of money trying to correct this error but to no avail. I just wanted to bring this product defect to your attention.

The retailer was Bloomingdale's.

See how nice and composed the tone of my email was considering how much agony and additional reparation funds the shoes had cost me. Well, take a load of their response.

From: Customer Service at www.calvinklein.com

Dear Anita,

Thank you for contacting calvinklein.com.

We apologize for the difficulties you have experienced with your purchase.

At this time, the calvinklein.com webstore can only accept returns on purchases made from our online store. Please return your item(s) to the store where the purchase was made. If your purchase was made at a department store, you may request a review of your merchandise by a member of the Store Sales Management Team. A personal assessment of your item is necessary, as each situation is unique. Bring your original receipt as proof of purchase, if it is available. Once a manager is able to see the product, they will be more equipped to assist you with recommendations, and possible solutions.

If you made your Calvin Klein purchase at a Calvin Klein Retail Store, then please contact our retail store division directly at 866-214-6694, via email at calvinkleincustomerservice@pvh.com, or visit www.pvh.com.

Please let us know if you have any additional inquiries.

You'll find we're always adding new products and offers, so please stop by calvinklein.com again soon. We appreciate your patronage.

Sincerely,

Heather S. customerservice@calvinklein.com

866-513-0513

I think Heather thought I gave a shit. I really don't give a shit where I bought it from, you, Calvin Klein are the manufacturer of the badly made shoes. I could have bought them from Wal-mart for all I care but if you made them, then we have a problem. At this point, I was fuming, and I thought, let's respond to "Heather" and give her a piece of our mind.

Dear Heather,

Thanks for your email.

Unfortunately, you missed the point of my email.

I was not writing to return the item. I was writing to inform the good folks at Calvin Klein of their defective product.

If I wanted to return it I would have gone straight to the retailer I got it from but I didn't. I went straight to the manufacturer, Calvin Klein.

I bought the product based on the brand name which I thought would be synonymous with quality. And instead of superior quality what I received was defective. I thought you'd be more concerned that the product you, Calvin Klein, produced is not up to par. And to inquire as to how certain changes can be made. But you don't seem to be at all. I would have been better off buying a JC Penney or Wal-Mart shoe.

So tell the people at production or marketing who care about the image of Calvin Klein that a certain customer is dissatisfied with the product. And if I were you I would investigate the cause of the defect, do some quality assessment, quality control, etc, so more people don't buy the product. Not shoosh them away.

Thank you for your utter concern.

I'll be sure to spread the word on Facebook, Blogger and Twitter.

Fortunately for them, I don't have Facebook or Twitter accounts to use to alert the media of their wrongdoing.

At this point I forgot about it. I had told nameless, faceless "Heather" about the bad shoes her well-known company is perpetrating into our marketplace. I thought, okay, so she may or may not do anything about it. I was on vacation when I received a phone call from some possibly blonde, obnoxiously perky marketing executive from New York. She wanted to apologize to me personally for the email and the badly made shoe and to inform me that their product department has been alerted. I was on vacation at that point, I really didn't want to hear from the real world unless you are offering me a job. I took her call but said little else. If she really cared, she would have asked some pertinent questions like, "What exactly is wrong with the shoe?" Or, "How can we make amends and get you to fall back in love with the CK brand name?" She didn't say any of these things, she just rambled on her perky executive spiel and I was really not in the mood to hear that shit. However, I decided to let sleeping dogs lie.

I have the shoes they are poorly made. I know for a fact that I will never ever buy Calvin Klein shoes again. I don't care how pretty the design of the shoes look. They are not good at making shoes. Some folks are good at it and strive to be very good at it - Coach, Stuart W. DVF, even Nine West makes the best fitting shoes all for a low, low price. But Calvin Klein should just stick to making jeans and T-shirts with fake ads of the people who wear them, and remove those shoes from any department store shelf. Coming to think of it, I have bought a pair of their jeans and they were not too hot either, I ended up chucking it to Goodwill. How do these company's stay in business?

You have all been warned. Do not buy Calvin Klein Shoes.

Birthday Plans

I had the pleasure of spending my birthday in Santa Barbara. That's where I've been for the last week. It took over a month to plan and a week to execute. Before it I went silent as I treated myself to several outings to commemorate the birthday. Then, I got to travel which was super. The day came and went ceremoniously. Of course I got to experience the joy and conversation of strangers as I rang in the day. Most importantly, there was me, in a new place, in a happy place, selfishly enjoying time with me. 

Santa Barbara was great. Beautiful, foggy and cold but picturesque. Once the sun came out the day was set and things got into gear. Spent the morning having a nice brunch at Union Ale Brewing Company which was very hospitable except none of my drinks were comped on account of my birthday. I just thought that was a little heavy-handed. At least give me one drink on the house, I choose your restaurant out of all the restaurants on State Street to have the first meal on my birthday. Not to worry. The bartender at least recommended some great places to spend the evening. He mentioned Wildcat Lounge which was a short walking distance from their restaurant so I decided to check it out. I had a nice conversation with a girl who had come into town from Orange County to spend the day with her friend. She had spent last fall pursuing her dream of becoming a photographer but could no longer afford the tuition so had to move to LA to work in an Orange County beauty salon, dealing with snooty OC women. We ended the morning by toasting with Patron and soda water drink.

I ended the evening by partying at WildCat. The day seemed to be dragging as I had exhausted myself by getting up early, walking the length and breadth of State Street. I stopped by a couple of places and they all seemed to be lounges and bars where people sit around with people they know or arrived there with and discuss how to end the evening. All the other places I had googled that were supposed to be "It" bars didn't seem welcoming to a stranger. I didn't want to be the sixth toe sitting at a bar listening in on some people discussing and drinking, how impersonal and cold. So at 8 I walked over to the Wildcat Lounge.  There were 3 people at the bar plus the female bartender. Get this, Sunday nights is gay night when all the gay, drag queens come to party. Only me would choose to party in a club on their gay night. Why not, their single hunky guys night. I proceeded towards the door but they begged me to stay. Begged. I told them I needed somewhere I could have some fun, after all it was my birthday. That was all they needed to know. The tables immediately turned and they sat me down, bought me drinks and we toasted to me being bold and ballsy to travel halfway across the country to come celebrate my birthday in some bar in Santa Barbara. 

There I was on the evening of my birthday, screaming and shouting as I listened to some drag queens do a hyped up performance of Pink. I am sure there are pictures in some Santa Barbara weekly of me loosing my mind and screaming at the top of my lungs. Funny enough I didn't loose my voice. I partied until it was no longer my birthday it was safely the next day but I still kept on screaming. My guide for the evening told everyone it was my birthday and how I had come to SB to party on my own. That instantly earned me shots along with hearty congratulations. It was one of the best times I've had in a long time. I've been to clubs in Atlanta, partied with the best of them. This was by far the best time. Who knew gay people could kick it up a notch, clearly not I? I would always remember this year, the year that I spent my birthday partying with some drag queens, hooting and hollering at go-go dancers. You cannot make this stuff up!

After all the money spent, the intricate planning, plotting and intensive googling over a 4-6 week period, the late night trip to SB (my plane arrived at 10pm), after all that, it came and went with so much fanfare and the perfect icing to cap the day was brought on by an unplanned visit to a bar. So some things you plan for your safety you plan them, but some you leave up to chance, the God of all single people will look out for you and guarantee you a good time, even though you might be solo. 

happy birthday from me

Once again, and thankfully so, I have treated myself to  birthday vacation. This time in lovely, expensive luscious Santa Barbara culminating in beautiful Solvang, Santa Ynez. Thank you God for little and big blessings. This was a dream come true, so many intricate details, so many wants in between and all of them accomplished, just like that. I didn't even have to try so hard.

I've always wanted to go to a wine country place to spend my birthday. The chance to sample wine and see how it is made, discuss it, and get to sample as much as possible. Wherever there's good wine, there's good food, I know this for a fact and where these two exist, comes happy people who experience these good things. I tried to go to Napa last year but then I thought it might not be that much fun, maybe a bit too pensive. This time I wanted pensive, I'm too old to be partying it hard(core). I was able to do a Napa tour in April so a Santa Ynez trip seemed somewhat appropriate, and who knew Santa Barbara made wine, certainly not I until I started planning this trip and noticing the wine labels that read, Santa Barbara County. They also make beer but more on that later. 

The trip involved a couple of nights in Santa Barbara, arrival the eve of my birthday and leaving the day after to Santa Ynez and spending the night in Solvang and then driving from there to Los Angeles to spend 4 days with the family. I know all these details. Trust me, as soon as I got to the family unit the hastiness was put to a halt and everything went all PG-13. 

Santa Barbara didn't quite meet my expectations. It was not as breathtaking as Los Angeles. I know L.A. is pretty, I've said this before and this second trip there just reinforced my conclusion. It's so freaking gorgeous there, almost surreal pretty. The people and the place. But Santa Barbara was like a duller version of S.F. There was the beach but I wouldn't call it a beach, more like the bay. The water was stagnant, unmoving, blue and foggy pier. I am assuming there's a nicer beach but I didn't find it, since this was a short trip. I stayed at an Inn (there are actually so many in SB) a few blocks from the beach and I thought, how nice to wake up and walk to the beach and spend the morning taking in the waves, what a nice birthday present. Not so much. It was frightfully cold, foggy and dreary, the fog was melting on the roof tops so it sounded like raindrops. I am told this is their "June Gloom" period. There are much nicer periods but who knows if I'd be in the mood for SB then. The topography there is a little interesting. You look in the far distance and you see hills, sometimes there are houses on the hills, but hills nonetheless just line your view. 

The wine and fancy food didn't come until the next day. State Street shopping provided the entertainment during the day. At night, I had the pleasure of being entertained on my birthday night by the hilarity of the MTV Video Music Awards and the nice gay guys at Wildcat club and lounge. The bartender at the bar where I had had breakfast told me it was a nice place, crazy, loads of fun. Running out of ideas I decided to try it. Sunday night happens to be gay night, leaving me to be entertained by all the closeted gays and drag queens this side of SB. I just thought only me would walk into a lounge and have it be gay night. It was just amazing, haven't laughed so hard, danced so much and screamed so loud in a long time. Just as well, when I said I wanted pensive, I end up partying with the best of them.

I would always remember it. You know how people ask, "So what did you do on your birthday?" and you can't even think of anything concrete, I would remember that I spent it in beautiful Santa Barbara living out loud with some drag queens and go-go dancers. At this moment, I would like to thank them very much for their hospitality, warmth and fire. This single gal was highly entertained. 

Something that can't be done solo

Apparently, there is one thing you cannot do solo. I just found that little tidbit out this week. 

I was trying to schedule a wine-tasting tour for myself on my birthday on Sunday, the 6th in Santa Barbara with Captain Jack's Tours. Unfortunately, they have a 2 person minimum. At first I didn't understand what that meant, minimums mean nothing to me, but it actually means that one person is a No and two people is a Go. So they put me on a waiting list. Yes, waiting list for the couples to schedule the tour and when they do they would have room for the singles. 

At first, I thought, that's okay. But then, I thought that is so mean. So if a couple schedules the tour I would end up being the third wheel to their "romantic" wine tour. Isn't that sad? I already play that role in life why would I want to do that of all days, my birthday for that matter. They called today and I turned them down. I decided to rent a car and drive or even walk around the local wineries and do the tour the way I intended. When I scheduled this same tour of Napa, it was much easier, they were quite a few people that were doing it solo and we all hauled into a tour bus and made our way through the wine country. Maybe it's different for Santa Barbara, smaller wineries to visit, fewer wineries, I don't know, but nothing should ever have a 2 person minimum. Most of us showed up into this world alone. You either go on the tour as scheduled with one person or 10 people that's how most businesses are run. At least I thought so. 

Selfish planning

Coupled up people don't know how easy they have it. 

They don't have to constantly plan their days, nights, weekends and holidays. When you're single a lot of thinking and plotting goes into planning your life to make it full. The simple part of my plans is that I only have me to consider, my safety, comfort and happiness. 

With coupled people, they have to consider the other party. They don't get to be as selfish as I do. But then they get the joy of sharing it with someone else. So it's a win-win for both parties. I enjoy the selfishness and spontaneity of my solo plans and they get the company and conversation of their partners. Not that I don't enjoy the company and conversation of strangers. The only problem with spontaneous conversation with strangers is that it is momentary, brought upon by spur of the moment events. It starts, sparks and fizzles. Sometimes stirred by alcohol. It does not last. I never see (or hear from) them again.  However, we continue our lives knowing that we had that one fantastic moment. 

And sometimes, that makes all the difference. 

Memorial Day Weekend

Don't you wish you had a weekend as exciting as mine?

Well, to tell you the truth it wasn't that exciting so the coupled up people can rejoice that they won this weekend from the single gals. From the Sex and the City 2 movie being underwhelming to the crummy weather being a deterrent to my exploration to losing power at home thanks to the stormy weather. It was just bad. For a wee moment I wish I had planned to leave town with a group of friends, gone to some cabin somewhere and had a good time. It was one of those weekends that seemed better enjoyed with a partner(s), or group of people, just sit at the pool or beach with your friends and wait out the rain, or go to the Atlanta Jazz Festival with your friends and sit on the lawn chairs and listen to some crummy (or good) jazz.  All around me I could see the coupled up people having fun and I was not. This is one of the few times you'll hear me praise partying with a group. 

I also experienced it for myself sometime on Saturday so I am somewhat speaking from experience. On Saturday I woke up somewhat early to make the matinee showing of the new Sex and the City movie. Matinees, are not only cheaper but less crowded. I didn't want to have to deal with the millions of "girlfriends" grouped together to go watch the movie. In between the movie, which was god-awfully predictable by the way, I felt like a good old fashioned cocktail. Not because of the movie just because I had had to sit through that drivel so early on a Saturday, I needed a reward per se. I did what I had to do in the city which was packed by the way with people everywhere (holiday weekend what do you expect) and left the city to the more quiet section of the city to have dinner. 

The first restaurant was dull and expensive. Made me spend money that I really had no business spending. It was another round of drivel courtesy of the good folks from Sex and the City 2. I must have brought that drivel with me. I needed to shake that off, that plus it had started to pour again. So I went into the adjourning restaurant which offered the same item that I had just had at the other place but for $5 less. How does that happen? Why didn't anyone tell me this earlier? I even had a 10% coupon thingy I could have used too to make it even less expensive. How stupid was I?

From there I met this 2 ladies who drove all the way from Destin, Florida to come celebrate her birthday in Atlanta. They were so excited to meet me. We talked for a good while, drank, tested the multiple shots that they received courtesy of it being her birthday. It was hilarious. At this point I knew that drivel Saturday was over. They ate (the same meal I ate at the other place and tons cheaper no less) and then we moved over to ...The W. 

If you are reading closely you would remember how much I hate the W, for being expensive and having no parking. But this time I parked at the mall and drove with them to the W. They were staying at the W so it was a no-brainer. They were staying there but were too intimidated to go to Whiskey Blue. They thought they'd be run out because they weren't trendy enough, etc. They forgot that this is a recession, everyone wants anyone's business no matter how you're dressed and Whiskey Blue was no exception. 

It was an unpredictable evening. The lounge was packed with loads of people. Loads. We joined several groups. Once again, the group effect being the theme here and danced, talked, drank and laughed the night away. One of the groups was a gay guy celebrating his birthday, his group was hilarious. We had an awesome time with them. He even tried to help me meet some guys but everyone that I liked was taken. The other group was this British expatriate couple. Conversation with them will forever remain anonymous. Me, being the only single wheel started to wear off at some point so I had to say my adieu.

The point of this is that, I experienced the day earlier on my own and it was filled with drivel. I experienced it with a group of strangers and it was fantastic. It was just that kind of weekend, with people being in town for the holidays, it was not a good time to be solo. It was a good time to be solo and open to joining any group at all, but to initiate solo activities, not so much. I am just glad I bumped into the perfect fun-loving groups who invited me to join their group activities. 

Face it, it could have been worse.  

Another birthday looms around

In about 4 days I shall be heading over to Santa Barbara to celebrate my birthday, the following day. Alone, no less but still very excited about it. I have been wanting to do this for awhile but for financial reasons and whatnot I wasn't able to. Then, last year I thought instead of choosing somewhere quiet, let's go somewhere noisy to celebrate, that's why New York and Miami won me over. And it was noisy all right. One of the best times of my life, only marred by my return to work, having to deal with the envious eyes. 

The thing with vacations is having it end. When you return to work, everybody seems like they're excited to hear about it, if you listen closely you can detect the slight note of envy and before you know it, they are plotting their next vacation around your last location. I keep thinking, "So that's why you were envious?" Now, they don't have to be, they can see and experience it for themselves.

All that aside, this year has been very quiet. I suspected it was going to be quiet which prompted me to book the first vacation in April. Who goes on vacation in April, seriously? When life seems to be moving at a slow pace, all the chips in the fire don't seem to be burning, what else can you do except try to spice it up. And spice it up it did. I look at the pictures now and laugh. I look at my San Francisco tattoo now and laugh. It was an awesome time. 

I just wish I could re-route. To many "former" readers of this blog, they are prpbably tired of hearing me wish and not do anything about the re-route. But that's just how I feel. I wish I could re-route. Re-routing as a single person is so much more difficult than with a couple. That I can give the upper hand to the couples. Financially, they are better at everything. But for the single gals, it all comes down to how do I manage myself without an income. Several jobs I applied for don't seem to be panning out. I apply for a lot and no one calls. I even offer to pay the expense of relocating and I still hear nothing. Back in the old days people used to help people get jobs, not so much anymore. People don't really care...they are still wasting their venom on envying you that you can afford to vacation. I vacation so I don't loose my mind. So I don't sit here twiddling my thumbs waiting for the damn recruiters to call me. 

There you have it! As with all my vacations, I always secretly wish something would happen while I am away that would make me not have to come back to this "in need of a jolt" life of mine. This one is no exception. One day that dream would actually come true.