Girls Getaway

I’m currently suffering from post-getaway depression. I’m not asking for pity or anything like that. And I’m not saying my real, day-to-day life here in Gold River isn’t just ducky (the vast majority of the time). I’m just sharing with you that… I’m kinda blue. And like any vacation, big or small, the return to reality can be rough.

Last Thursday afternoon, myself and three friends (sans my sister/dearest friend, who couldn’t make it at the last minute…argh), escaped Sacramento and environs and embarked upon a three-night sojourn to Carmel, where T has theeee most adorable, historic, quintessential Carmel-By-The-Sea cottage.  A to-die-for,  perfectly petite, oh-so-charming, vintage, Continental Cream and perfect-shade-of-green-colored grown-up dollhouse, whose outside is “strangled” (in a good way) with assorted vines, Bougainvillea, hydrangeas and roses. I mean, we’re talking I-want-to-sit-in-this-Sisal-rug-chandeliered-poufy-pillowed-patina’d-haven-forever kinda place.


(Note: Sunglasses have been worn and the names have been changed to initials here to protect the not-so-innocent.)

So D, J and I were so happy and thankful to be invited back by T to this little piece of heaven, aptly called Lollygag. ‘Cuz that’s what we did. We Lollygagged. (Now a verb.)

And we ate way more food than was necessary, drank an over-abundance of wine, and consumed more martinis than was prudent. (By the way, absolutely NO driving was involved. Try this ONLY at home.)

And it was wonderful….

While we wished the empty calories and yummy carbohydrates did not count, we had absolutely no regrets. Zero! Zilch! Nada!

And we shopped (some more than others), and walked,  and laughed, until tears ran down our face…and legs.  And it was relaxing.

We browsed downtown,  slept (some louder than others),  listened to music, and ate even more. And it was delightful.

As is our tradition, we gave each other “happys” (aka gifts). D gave us each a thought-provoking, inspired, fun book of self-discovery, where we are tasked with filling out a W I D E variety of lists — anything from “List What’s Under Your Kitchen Sink” to “List the Lines You’re Sick of Waiting In” to “List the Ways You’ve Been Affected by a Higher Power.” Neat, huh?

And we talked and talked and talked.  And it was therapeutic. And essential…

We vented about the ever-present elephant in the room: Aging. And we decided there isn’t a thing we can do about it, and that, actually, growing older is a pretty darn good alternative.

We discussed our kids (of course!), and how absolutely fabulous each other’s kids are. We talked about our pride of / fears for / concerns about each son and daughter, and the many exciting possibilities that lie ahead for them all!

We chatted about our husbands. And let me tell you, that was fun and entertaining and hilarious… and from whence a good portion of the laughter for the weekend came. Gotta love ’em.

The words “corncob,” “Burrata cheese,” “granite slab,” and “stomach ‘s'” will never again have quite the same meaning for us. All IJ’s (inside jokes)! And trust me, you don’t wanna know. And we spent a good 30 minutes discussing the correct pronunciation of “peonies.” Lollygagging at its finest…

Heavy-duty, serious matters were explored. Inane, lighthearted topics were discussed. And somehow, even the relatively meaningless, light stuff became full of gravity and weight and importance. Because, I suppose, friends were gathered, ideas and perspectives were shared, and appreciation of our differences were acknowledged and celebrated.

And it was all fabulous. Every second.

Sunday afternoon rolled around way too quickly, where it was time to pack up, clean up, and head home. Springing forward for Daylight Savings seemed so unfair, as we mourned the loss of spending one more hour of Lollygagging.

But it was indeed a grand and glorious weekend, where time and laughter was cherished,  more memories were made, and opinions and confidences were shared.

And, as Dionne Warwick would say, that’s what friends are for.

One Response to Girls Getaway
  1. Anonymous
    March 14, 2012 | 6:17 pm

    Jodie, you are just a fabulous writer. Glad to read on this ever so bizarre day of rain, trees and little men in yellow rubber jackets. And my wedding song was "That's What Friends Are For". So very apropo. Hugs!!!!

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About Me

It's true! Despite playing defense virtually all my life against the onslaught of this sometimes-ugly aging process, it...has...arrived! I naively thought I would escape cellulite (the Cottage Cheese) and crow's feet (the Crepe Paper). But I didn't! And why didn't anyone tell me about this emotional roller-coaster that comes with being an Empty-Nester?! My name is Jodie Barringer Myers. I'm a 54-year-old Friday/chardonnay/ hydrangea-loving wife/mom/court reporter living in Sacramento (Gold River!), California. Writing is cathartic for me. And because I look to find humor and humility among the rubble that is my now very peri-menopausal self, I'm hopeful that you will laugh, cry, learn, enjoy and, most of all, relate to what I have to say. After all, we're all in this together, right?

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