Trigger officially pulled. Plane tickets booked, poolside bed & breakfast reserved. Nekos and I are going to Key West for a long weekend in February! (Tessa will hang in Nashville with my mom. Thank you, mom!) This will be our third time there. We're sort of obsessed with the place because, for us, it's the perfect mixture of relaxation (read: beaches and lazy, sunny barefoot bike rides) and adventure (read: mojitos). And
there's this little place we always stay where everything is white and clean and we get to eat breakfast by the pool and "plan" our day like there's ever anything on the list other than 1) eat fat mahi-mahi sandwiches and key lime pie at
Blue Heaven 2) lie on beach at Fort Zachary Taylor for 30 minutes until I get bored and start getting heinously sunburned 3) decide to go for mojitos and watch bad Jimmy Buffet impersonations at some little outdoor cafe 4) nap 5) more mojitos + oysters.
This time I want to revisit Ernest Hemingway's house and his six-toed cats with a fresh eye. Before I'd never read any of his books, but this year I finally got around to reading
A Farewell to Arms (liked) and
The Sun Also Rises (didn't like so much). I bought
For Whom The Bell Tolls today; I think it's supposed to be the crowd favorite. Have you read Hemingway? Which of his do you like best?
So, I love, love, love booking a tropical vacation in the middle of winter. Not only is it magical the few days we're there, but it gives me something to look forward to every day until then. And ... it motivates me to get my ass into some sort of shape.
I hate talking about weight, but I'm also fascinated by it and how most every woman has a deeply rooted opinion about hers. And sometimes I like to let this blog be the accountability-holder I know it can be and has been for me. The picture above was me nine pounds, one baby, and two-and-a-half years ago. It's me at my happy weight. It's me at size 8. It's a weight I can maintain pretty easily without feeling deprived. And I can so get back there in two months time with a little help from my old pal Weight Watchers and some visits to the gym. To motivate me, I bought this. Yeah, that. A bikini. It's about time for me to tell my one-piece to kiss it. I still have one year left in my 20s after all. What are your 20s for if not for bikini-wearing?
Merry Christmas to me! Eek. Did I really just post a picture on my blog of me in a bikini? I think I just did.
