The Question Is, Will Metro Prolong My Day by Delaying Me?

Only a few more hours until work is over for the week (not that I don’t love my co-workers) and then it’s home to pack for Florida. If I thought it was odd, buying capris earlier this week, wait until I pack my bathing suit.

(Not the one, honey, that you say makes me look like a grandma. I will never, never wear that suit thanks to you.)

It will be nice to get away from the cold. I have never taken a winter vacation to a warm climate—even when I visited Mexico in December, it was obviously much warmer than Michigan, but it didn’t have the appeal that a vacation to Florida or California might have. Visits to Mexico in December meant too many family members running around, heavy sweaters on an occasional basis, and no chance to relax from the ever-present female cousin backstabbing. While I had fun in Mexico, there was never a sense of vacation. It was all obligation, all the time, and I don’t recall ever doing anything that didn’t include at least one California cousin. It was very fun to mock them, though, when they complained about how cold Mexico was—they absolutely had no idea what true cold was. Try living in Michigan when it happens to hit 50 below.

This will also be the first time I’ve traveled in 2007—I’m actually surprised it took this long. Last year, travel was done at such a torrid pace; I felt like I was never at home for any significant amount of time. However, this year, when Brother A asked if he could visit, there were only two weekends I would be away—this weekend and the weekend of March 30. Of course, Brother A is a special case. Friends who ask when they can visit get the “Oh, I’ll have to check,” reply only because I am not a good hostess. It’s one thing to have your big brother come to town and want to hit a nice restaurant, a good bar and the Air and Space Museum. It’s quite another thing to have a friend come in and want to see all the monument stuff and all the museums. That’s why it’s great to be a first-generation Mexican/U.S. citizen—the majority of your family likes Mexican history better (okay, scratch that—we all do). I won’t deny that DC has some interesting history behind it, but you can’t compare it to Mexico, and you certainly can’t get worked up about it each time someone decides to visit you.

Wow, I really went off on a tangent there. I am just not good at the “Yay. The Washington Monument.” For the 5,394th time in a row. I still haven’t gotten to that number, and I pray I never do.

Still a few more hours to go in the day, and then homeward bound to pack the capris, the swimsuit, running apparel in case I decide not to fear overly large reptiles with teeth, and some tees that do not proclaim that my boyfriend can totally beat up your boyfriend. In the meantime, I must procure some Diet Mountain Dew to help me to the finish line and into the sun (okay, that was very, very cheesy—I apologize).