Remember how I said Mother Nature is taking my simple purchase of a proper coat as a personal challenge? Yeah, that hasn't let up. I think everyone is getting hammered with it. They're calling it an arctic vortex, which sounds pretty doom and gloom. As if we weren't depressed enough about living in darkness and having to wear long underwear everywhere.
I mean, that shit flatters no one.
But with excellent timing, I have planned a trip in a few weeks to Panama. Where it's really warm, I hear.
I'm going with my cohorts from high school, the Four Horsewomen of the Wine-Induced Apocalypse. Except we're losing a Horsewoman, so there's only three, but I'm pretty sure that's enough for a few apocalypses.
We all turn the same age within about a year and a half. When we turned 30, we did something special for each person's birthday. We went on road trips, we went to the spa. I am the last one to celebrate, so my friends were out of ideas and just rented a limo and tried to kill me with liquor.
Speaking of apocalypses.
This time we figured we'd just do one BIG trip, and hopefully the liquor assassination attempts would all be mutual. Originally we thought Costa Rica, which got nixed due to finances, and after a lot of 'reply all' email chains we settled on Panama. Which has spiders, but I'm willing to overlook them if my friends are willing to stand between them and me.
They promised me they were. That's true friendship, folks.
I've traveled a fair bit in the past couple of years but rarely for pure pleasure, and I have suffered through every single bone ass cold January here since moving home from Vancouver over 15 years ago. So a hot weather vacation is due. I even bought a new bathing suit that makes me look like a super hero.
A slightly pudgy super hero, but hollywood is totally ripe for one of those, amirite?
Omg, it's going to be so fun. Sun, sand, booze, water, booze, two recently divorced friends.
What could possibly go wrong?