Anticipation.

Know what's pretty sweet? The fact that I'm going on two trips within the next 2 months, and needed to pay all of $10 for them. That's two flights, one this weekend to NY to see my beloved almost sister, and one to Nevada in April to see my dear Daddo.

So that's all so exciting, but right up there with jump up and down excitement is the trip I've booked to Myrtle Beach with the lovely ladies who I intend to still be friends with 35 years from now.

I always say, I've always thought, that half the fun of a trip is the anticipation of it. Like when I went to Miami this past October. Although the intended dates of departure needed to be shifted due to circumstances beyond our control, I got to stew with excitement, times two. Unfortunate that it didn't work out as originally planned in August, but none the less, I got to experience what I like to call pre-trip foreplay, twice. So even though I didn't actually vaca, in August, I pre-trip foreplayed for it. Oh, and it was amazing. Kind of along the same lines as mixed drinks + flirting, making out + pawing at each other, pre-trip foreplay is totally my thing. Lest it seem here that the analogy I'm trying to make means that I see actual foreplay as always mandatory, let me just state the fact that I sometimes prefer getting right down to business. Anyway, I'm getting away from the subject at hand.

The point is, I love the pre-trip foreplay. The booking of the trip. The planning process of it all. Looking for the perfect hotel, the right flight, departure times, car rental. What gets me off even more (I'm talking about the trip still), is the excitement that is the planning of the outfits. The shopping pre-trip. Looking for that special bikini, although perhaps not as fun early March in unfortunate lighting illuminating ghostly white skin. But finding the perfect dress. That fits just right and you just feel amazing in. Maybe you'll never wear it again, but you have it for the upcoming trip and you're damn amused as you strut into your apartment trying it all on. The strappy sandals with the new halter and skirt. You rub a little Banana Boat sunscreen on your arm and you close your eyes and picture Jimmy Buffet and you and your girlfriend's sipping a beach cocktail with the waves crashing ahead of you.

And as the time nears closer, you get more and more antsy, fidgety, just waiting for it to come. The trip that is.

You can't control yourself. You count the days, x them off in your work agenda. Get your out of office reply ready, gather the magazines and books you've been wanting to read for forever, and probably get the highlights you've been putting off for a month or so. You book your mani/pedi and it's only one more day, and you can barely sleep. So you don't sleep. You stay up that night before, blasting the stereo in your living room as you and your roommate pack, doing fashion shows of what you should wear the next day to the beach. It's probably late now, and you're probably drinking a celebratory martini, because, well, you can. And it's almost here. Finally, you decide you should at least try to rest, just a little. So you're in your bed and you're awake, thinking, likely giggling out loud imagining the next several days of GLORY.

It's finally here and the excitement is at an all time high. You're heart is racing and you are envisioning the blue ocean, the pretty drinks you will throw back too many of, the smell of a far off hotel room, the balcony that you can only imagine will overlook a serene scene. You arrive at your destination and the pre-trip foreplay has brought you to an amazing climax. And for the next several days you are in heaven. Oh this feels so good.

Man, how I love a vacation.