I love a good Saturday.

I’m eating cake in bed with wine and a book. There’s a John Mayer poster but it’s in the closet because I’m feigning adulthood.

The cake is more patriotic than I am. Delicious too.

Are not always for lobsters, Vino Verde, and heirlooms but today was and it was glorious. And well needed.

Good cheese, better company might be a ridiculous way to start a sentence but the sentiment is still true.

Sometimes, hangover be damned, you just gotta get away!

Egg sandwiches and venti iced coffees in hand, the dashing Dewey Cuadros, KB and I escaped the city for greener pastures. (By city I mean DC suburbs, by greener pastures I mean my Aunt and Uncles lakeside compound in Winchester.)

The mostly cloudy hour and a half drive flew by, thanks to sing alongs interspersed with gossip and day dreaming. Mother Nature showed up big for us, the sun coming out as soon as we arrived. We were greeted with “hey girls, there’s Cokes in the fridge” (this is Virginia after all) and after KB took a quick, unplanned (fully clothed) dip in the creek we settles in lakeside.

Yesterday was a great reminder of the power of a change of scenery and the fun of friends who are up for anything, at a moments notice.

Said her father, this will ruin her chances at becoming Ms. Saudi Arabia!

The build up to vacation planning often takes longer than the actual vacation. KB and I had been playing with the prospect of visiting H for months, “oh let’s check airfare” “I need a tan” “let’s get away” etc. Making the actually commitment, picking dates, booking tickets, agreeing upon an itinerary never seemed to happen. You just can’t force these things. So finally, one afternoon, it’s just clicked. Eventually, if you really want something you get your shit together. I’m sure the snowiest winter of late had a major influence on our sudden “can do” attitude. Over group text we picked dates, flights, and came up with a loose itinerary. Then, all we had to do was wait.

The weeks leading up to our holiday passed slowly; the passage of time not helped by two more snowstorms. Soon enough, we were at the one week “what are you bringing? How many bikinis, how many maxi dresses?” home stretch.

The work day drags on an ordinary Thursday but a Thursday when you’re anticipating a 7pm flight to a beach get away? Longest day ever!

Bags packed, strapped in the Dad’s Nissan, we were finally on our way. With a pit stop for mini bottles of vodka on the way, because, they’re called airplane bottles right?

Our adventure was ready to begin!

Adventures in Girls Vacationing

“Next time, use more discretion” stage whispered Ryan Gosling look alike flight attendant with a wink, as he eyed our tiny vodka bottles

“They’re illegal?” KB replied “I thought they were called ‘airplane’ bottles because you’re supposed to bring them on the airplane?”