A Welcome Vacation

I'm not here. I've put my imaginary "do not disturb" sign on. I'm going on a mental vacation.

I'm at the airport, but I haven't decided where to go yet. I look at the departures board. Mexico is nice, but I'm too exhausted to bother to speak Spanish. Austria's too cold this time of year. The only place I would really want to go to in the Bahamas is Atlantis, and I really don't have the bank account for that right now. Florida is surprisingly cold this time of year. I love Costa Rica, but I was just there. Hawai'i? That sounds like a nice change of scene.

I board the plane and drift off into a deep sleep to the soothing tune of the American Airlines safety video music. Mmmhmhmmm...

A flight attendant wakes me up. I seem to have caught up on all the sleep I've missed over the past 2 months in one single flight. I step off the plane carrying only a backpack full of necessities and hail a cab. I politely ask to be taken to the nearest beach and receive a warm answer. Why can't people be this nice up north? I think. I don't even mind that it takes us half an hour to get to the beach. I need to slow down.

I pay the fare and step out of the car. Either this guy really likes me or he just wanted to rack up his cab fair because this is the most gorgeous beach I've ever seen. A few locals and I are the only patrons of this paradise today. I set up my towel and spend what seems like a lifetime simply watching the waves go in and out, feeling the sun warm my face, letting the soft crashing of the waves lull me into a trance. It's been a long winter and I need sunlight like Lindsay Lohan needs tabloid attention. This scene is perfect...but something's missing.

In my trance I find myself vacationing from my vacation. I'm out of the moment. I soar back to the RHS auditorium, to a scene where I'm laughing at Ian's ridiculous Gaston costume or intently listening to Jon describe the latest Wolverine comic book. I'm a sophomore, holding back tears as Clare and George sing "A Little Fall of Rain". I'm feeling the thrill of spinning a flag in the middle of Downtown Disney World as a freshman. I'm cuddled up to Russ watching a movie at home. I'm running through the streets of Dinklesbuhl, Germany, with Carolyn, Sarah and Mike trying not to get caught at that rock concert. I didn't need to spend all of this money to get away. I didn't need to literally escape to escape. All I needed was to get out.