Trippin’

Welcome to Friends of Fordeville Week.  Also known as Project Sunny & Slightly Tipsy Vacation.  Is it snowing in New Jersey while I’m gone?  That would make me a little happy.  And a little evil.

I promised you some fabulous guest bloggers while I take the week off.  I’m a woman of my word.  And to prove it, I’m kicking the festivities off with my favorite new blogger, The 21st Century Mrs — I’m so happy that has agreed to post for me.  If you aren’t reading her blog already, you are completely missing out.  Next you’ll tell me you haven’t eaten any chocolate today.  Get with the program, people.

Why should you love The Mrs?  Simply put, she’s funny as hell.  That’s not enough, you say?  OK, fine.  Check out her wacky, borderline-disturbing (in a good way) illustrations that prove her kick-ass wit beyond the shadow of a doubt. 

When she’s not confessing her fear of pregnant women or plotting her revenge against Jake Ryan, she’s tweeting — take note and follow her @21stcenturymrs.

——————————-

When I think about all of the things I learned when I was a kid, I feel like some critical details were unfortunately omitted, bits of advice I could have made good use of in the future. Things like: No one will ever care if you can’t write in cursive or don’t ever let your college roommate cut your hair. 

And here’s a big one: Being a kid on vacation is the sweetest experience you will ever have in your life. 

Think about it for a second.  When you were a kid and your parents took you on vacation, all you did was show up and have the best time of your life.

When you were a kid on vacation, there was no threat of school or homework, and all you did was play outside. In my case, most of this playtime took place on a beach somewhere, so my biggest worry as a kid on vacation was getting a sunburn. But I wasn’t even that concerned with a little red skin, because I didn’t even know what cancer was yet.

The thrill of traveling to a new place for relaxation or adventure is so intoxicating that, after years of vacationing with my parents, I have become addicted to vacations. 

And if I go too long without one, I start to look all bedraggled and sad.

But vacationing as an adult is just a shadow of the non-stop, fun-tacular time it was when you were a kid.

It might even be more trouble that it’s worth, but it’s better than sitting in your office or folding laundry at home—oh, and you’re probably ADDICTED to vacations, too. So you have to go or you could start to shake a little. (Because this is what the movies told me happens to addicts. And it looks pretty terrible.) 

Suddenly, you have to worry about paying for the vacation, finding a place to sleep that won’t give you bedbugs, dieting to avoid frightening others on the beach, booking and confirming rooms, and packing everything you own into small, airplane friendly luggage. I could go on with the “to dos,” but I might cry just thinking about the sharp contrast of childhood vacations to adult vacations.

The universe must know that it has robbed us of something magnificent, though, because it has created a silver lining to vacationing as an adult: cocktails.

Isn’t it strange how the virgin strawberry daiquiri you once begged your parents for as a child on vacation has become your adult-on-vacation refuge? 

My must-have vacation cocktail? Copious amounts of anything. I’m not picky. Although, I am partial to the kind of drinks that are available in fish bowls or margarita glasses the size of my head. But I really don’t care what you put in that glass, so long as it is strong. I’m trying to at once numb the memories of carefree vacations past and the knowledge of credit card bills with hotel charges to come in the future. 

As for what the lady of The Fordeville Diaries must record while she is vacationing? Originally, I was going to recommend Glee, because Gwyneth Paltrow is back for another appearance, and I love to hate Gwynnie. However, I might have to change my DVR recommendation to CNN—just record that shit all day—because given Charlie Sheen’s recent antics, it’s starting to feel like a foregone conclusion that he’ll wind up on a bell tower pretty soon. And none of us are going to want to miss that.