Thursday, January 8, 2009

Type A Women... puh-lease

Ah... somehow I got "voted in" to go to Hawaii.  Yes, seriously.  I get on a plane on Saturday and head on out to Hawaii where I will meet up with three other women and spend a week in a timeshare.  It hasn't quite sunk into my little brain just yet...
I have NEVER been West of California and it has been several years since I've been even in CA so I'm stoked.  It seems a recent friend - "Fashion Police" I'll name her {she is always cute and always in style and thrifty about it too!} and her buddies planned this trip while Fashion Police's man was in Iraq.  Well one of the girls recently became pregnant and decided to opt out of the trip due to things like morning sickness and all.  And so Fashion Police gave me a call the week before Christmas to see if I wanted in.  "You are the only one we agree on" she says.  So I tell her "wow! but not likely."  She must have gotten with my man because he traded in airline miles and got  a free ticket and in my stocking was a ticket to Hawaii!  OH MY!  And he had already arranged for his parents to stay here with him so he can work and the kids can stay pretty much on schedule.  Wow.  So for the price of 1/4 timeshare fees ($230) I am spending a week in Hawaii.  
Tuesday the girls decided to get together for a little chat to see what everybody thinks they want to do.  One of the girls is a military wife and used to live there so she is going to be tour guide for us.  Well, tour guide starts telling us what we should pack, which makes sense as we've never been there before but then she keeps on going and gets to where she is telling me what to wear on the airplane.  

Okay look babe.  I get that you want a plan so we don't just sit on the each for a week and watch 20 something beach bums surf (is there a problem with that?)  And I appreciate that you want to share your experience so we pack appropriately, but before you go telling me exactly what to pack and how to dress let me explain.  I'm all grown up and I've traveled plenty.  You may be a military wife but I'm a military brat.  Which means you're an "in by marriage" and I have birth rights.  I know all about traveling light.  I've been on too many friggin airplanes and I've had my luggage lost plenty of times.  I'll deal.  But you need to have a glass of wine or something because staying in a condo with you telling me what to do for a week is gonna get old fast.  sheesh.