A Place to Lay My Head

Months ago GBF and I decided to extend our stay in France after our business trip in October and venture to the south of France. We envisioned a convertable and us driving along the coast. Me with a sheer, colorful scarf tied about my head and big Jackie O sunglasses propped upon my nose. The wind is whipping and I am laughing. I have a long, classy filter and a filterless cig ready for when we pull over along jagged cliffs to take in the breathtaking view. GBF envisions himself with an ascot and smoking jacket, which makes me laugh heartily.

We enact it for people well. They all get a laugh. What they don't realize is we really do picture this being how it would be -- if money were not an issue and the world were perfect and rosy and if we had a film crew along with us, for surely we would make a great old movie.

Instead, we have come to the resounding conclusion that we're so going on the cheap. I know a not-so-new sedan and a cheap motel are in our future. My vacataion life and my real life are way too similar. I'm currently plowing through an assortment of inexpensive but safe accommodations down south. There are too many choices. Really, how am I supposed to pick?

We have less than three weeks to decide some basics. After months and months, now it's a priority. I don't even know why we're bothering. It's not as entertaining when there is such disparity between what I envision and what reality is. Of course, faux drama aside, it will be a divine trip and I am super-excited. I just wish someone else would make some of these decisions for us.