Some people may remember this night
“A vacation is what you take when you can no longer take what you've been taking.” ~Earl Wilson
Sunday evening I was directed toward a Facebook photo album courtesy of a friend from another life. ‘Another life’ that involved packing up my possessions and going to play with the monkeys in Gibraltar and wondering around in the dark night after picnics on the beach. The photos had been long forgotten. But as soon as I saw Clay making the word ‘poop’ out of his fingers like gang signs, I remembered the bottle of Bacardi that we hid in the tree and how much we drank in the hotel. And that Thekla covered herself in yogurt to help the sun burn and I too this day, do not recall how we got home that night.
What happened that night is unimportant and only the five of us would remember, but it was the deluge of memories that took over me. Like the nights of wandering around Madrid drunk at 3 AM or the Valentine’s Day spent in an Amsterdam coffee shop or the numerous bus trips through the Moroccan mountains without getting shot. All of which done without a care in the world and frivolous at best.
Things have been shitty. Not “I have cancer and my boyfriend died and my dog got shot by a cop and I have worms coming out of my eyeballs” shitty, but severely inconvenienced and stressed out shitty. It’s more like the type of shitty that you explain to others and they say ‘That’s nice, take a fucking number’*. I’d enjoy that life of frivolity again. The ability to say ‘fuck it’ and drink grey goose and tonic like water. I say these things like a 47 year old with kids and a mortgage trying to pay the Pepco bill, trapped in a 23 year olds body.
So I’m doing what any normal person my age who realizes their incessant bitching is really fucking annoying, would do; I bought a ticket to Boca: Because nothing screams, “I’m embracing my responsibility and saving my money by investing in my 401K” like spending your last $14 on a vacation.
*as said by Schnozz** and her infinite wisdom.
**leave it to her and her crazy editor skills to notice that there was even an asterisk there in the first place.
Labels: gruyere with that wine