PS, I love you

I decided on a whim that I deserved a mini-vacation, not only for working like a demon but also for officially reaching my third decade. So I booked a flight for Palm Springs with the vague plan of sitting by a pool and not talking to anyone for three days unless I required sustenance of the solid or liquid variety. So I book my flight late Wednesday night and write a comment on my Facebook profile about this. I should have known better. Early the next morning, my sister promptly booked a flight to Palm Springs. Incidentally, this is an hour after she asked me why I was going to Florida for the weekend and upon realizing Palm Springs was in California, saying only I would be crazy enough to hang out in a desert. She's just lucky I wasn't planning a secret rendevouz with a guy - it would've been really embarrassing to make her sleep on the balcony. So anyway, the next afternoon, we head out to the airport and find ourselves in balmy Palm Springs a few hours later.

When I land, I find out that my suitcase didn't make it with me. I have a bad moment when I realize that my bikini is my bag but luckily Sally has a few extras. For the first time in my life, I actually see an advantage to having a sister. Especially one who is close to my size. After checking in, we go on a hunt for food. Luckily just across the street from the hotel is a little pizzeria and this is what happens to Sally:

Let me clarify that I have seen my sister in similar situations throughout my life so don't worry about her. She worked her way through that monster meatball sandwich with little effort.

After dinner we head back to the hotel and I wrap up some work so I can relax for the next three days while Sally turns on the TV. Two minutes later, she starts shrieking in such a high pitch that my mortal, human ears could not hear it. She had found a piece of lint on her bed that she swore was a spider. This was the result:


This is NOT turning out to be the relaxed vacation of my dreams.

The next morning shines bright, clear and over 40 degrees. We start to walk around the quaint little town and then hit the pool. It's rather small but there's more than enough chairs that offer mists overhead. We grab a couple and within an hour and a half, Sally is looking a little lobster-ish. What kind of Asian is she anyway??? So we decide to rent a car and head to the outlet where we spend a pleasurable FIVE hours.


The next day we decide to take a drive into the cesspool that is LA. Sally is an avid reader of celebrity rags. Especially online ones like www.gossipfeast.com so she promptly directs us to Hollywood Blvd. We spend a couple of hours here and have lunch.


Then it was off to Robertson Blvd to shop where the stars shop. After visiting a few obscenely expensive stores we wearily head back to the car and back to Palm Springs but not before a pit stop at In & Out Burger. What would a trip to California be without visiting good ol' In & Out?

The last day was 6 hours of this:

which is how I ended up so burnt that I couldn't wear jeans for three days.

All in all, a fabulous trip. That is, until we start packing to go home. I had packed a larger sized suitcase, knowing that I was going to buy things to bring home. Sally on the other hand just packs a little carry on bag. Not only does she buy 6 pairs of shoes, a couple of bags and some clothes, none of which she can actually fit in her suitcase, she also buys two huge, fluffy bath mats. She goes on vacation and buys TOWELS!!! I ended up buying another suitcase to get our shit home. Still, it was good shit so well worth it :)