Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Day II: Vacation

Doesn't a vacation sound so nice?

My roommate, Kyle "Jenny Chrysanthemum" Jensen,  just returned to the United States after a week-long stay in Costa Rica. To say I was envious would be an understatement. A comical one. A massive one. He stayed at this beautiful, all-inclusive resort with endless mimosas and pools with bars. Like bars in the pool. IN THE POOL, YOU GUYS. I am sure there were turtles that swam up with plates of cheeses and crackers. Or maybe dolphins that transported you to different pools. Don't worry, I am sure there were seashell-lined pathways for those not comfortable riding one of the most playful--and sexually active!--animals on earth.

Ah, yes, it must have been rough.

I can only assume I would commit terrible, horrific acts to spend a week somewhere like that. If you value your life or your home or your family or your sanity, I'd rather not hear about your glorious trip to Guatemala or how stunning Sao Paulo is in the spring. Scout's Honor: I will steal that trip, your identity, and your soon-to-be-tanned skin just to experience a break from this frozen landscape. Gary Paulsen, eat your heart out.

Then I realized: you don't need to travel abroad or hop on a cruise to take a vacation. In fact, at any minute, even this very passing second, anyone can take a break from the monotony of computer screens and swiveling desk chairs. And it's all thanks to this guy:

Escalators can't stop this beat.
I frequently journey to Barnes and Noble to peruse the stacks and take a break from menacingly white walls of my office. It's also great to get up and move about in the afternoon. Makes it much easier to get your head back into work when you've allowed your creative juices to start pumping again. Anyway, I'm walking through the hallway to ol' BN, when this kilt n' boots hipster in headphones (a more common species of hipster than you'd think) literally floats passed Colleen, Jen, and I. Now, I'm easily entertained by other humans, but this queen was giving you hand gesture and spin and head bob and boot stomp the entire length of hall. When I saw he had bowed into the bookstore, I knew I couldn't pass up the opportunity for a snap. So I dashed ahead of my crew managed to sneak this shot from behind.

And can I just say: Those. Boots. Were. Major.

Watching the inhibition and joy ooze out of him--literally, he was dancing so hard that he was sweating somewhere between a whore in church and me watching Pretty Little Liars--really made my day. It served as a surprisingly potent reminder that a break is just a "throwing caution to the wind" away. A little mental break from giving a shit might be all you need for a much needed breather.

If you need me, I'll be snapchatting a lipsync performance of a Christina Aguilera song. Don't try to get ahold of me, though. I'm on vacation.

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