Going away and not going crazy

W and I are going away this weekend.  Just the two of us.  No kids.  No cats.

We only go away two or three times a year, so it’s a pretty big deal.

The last time that we went away for the weekend?  October.  We spent Saturday night at a local casino with friends.

In the days prior to that get-away weekend, I over thought the whole trip.  What if the food isn’t any good?  What if our room is dirty?  What if we can’t find a thing to talk about?  What if my expectations are too high?  What if we get in a fight?  What if the weekend is a total bust?

With these get aways coming every five months or so, everything seemed to be riding on this one weekend.  Fun times or bust.

Turns out that we had a great time.  We always do, despite my anxiety.

Heidi KlumThis time, I thought I’d try a different strategy.  Like just go with the flow and trust that everything will be as silky smooth as satin sheets or Heidi Klum’s legs.

So our trip itinerary — which features 24 hours without a single child (two legged or four legged) — includes The Addams Family musical and dinner at a fancy restaurant.  We have dinner reservations for 11:00 p.m., which I think makes us hipsters, at least for the night, or at least really, really cool like P!nk or Bruno Mars.  I bet they always eat dinner after 10:00 p.m.

I was thinking today that the infrequency of these get aways might actually make them a little more special.  A little more shiny and new.  If you got a new car twice a year, would you really care after year two?

Which, in turn, got me thinking about the things in life that you really only want to do once, or at most, twice a year.

My List

  • Vacations.  Not weekend trips but week-long trips that involve stopping the mail and the newspaper, finding someone to care for the pets and buying a new bathing suit.  For one thing, I stress over what books to bring, one for each flannel-covered personality.  And no, I don’t believe in Kindles or Nooks.
  • Eat corned beef and cabbage, preferably on or around St. Patrick’s Day.
  • Eat a candy cane.  I have one every Christmas and then ask myself what all the fuss is about.  How did these crooked mint sticks ever catch on?
  • Go to a parade.  Once a year is enough to see all of the fire trucks within 20 miles of your hometown.
  • Watch a classic tear jerker in which someone dies of a terrible illness like Steel Magnolias, Beaches or Terms of Endearment.
  • Partake of jelly beans or candy corn.  These foods are only appropriate eating on their respective holidays.
  • Order an egg cream.  I think I like the idea of egg creams better than the actual drink.  I mean, it sounds like a good idea, all classic and vintage and cool.  Oh, soda jerk, I’ll have the vanilla egg cream and make it snappy.  But then I look around at everyone drinking much more satisfying milkshakes at nearby tables.  My son had a sip of my egg cream and said it tasted like air.

Ok, spill.  What things do you think should be given once-a-year status?

11 responses to “Going away and not going crazy

  1. Taxes, obviously.
    Hearing or (God forbid!) singing “Auld Lang Syne”.
    Shaving my legs.

  2. Cute post! I love it. I thought I was the only one who wasn’t into parades 🙂 How about going to weddings. I would like a one-wedding-per-year quota.

  3. Formal family photos! 🙂

  4. Camping.

    Only I don’t even want to do that once a year. I want to do that never. (Traumatic fish-a-ma-jig-ish adolescent incident…you really don’t want to know.) So what do I want to do NEVER? Go camping.

    Mrs Fever does not camp. Mrs Fever cabins. And hotels. And occasionally resorts.

    But there will be NO camping.

    Otherwise, the number one thing on my Only Once A Year list would be Visiting Family. Once is more than enough, thankyouverymuch.

    • Got it. No camping. Like never.

      Visiting family? Thanks for saying what I was thinking. Sorry, Flannel Family.

      • So glad I was clear about the no-camping thing. I was concerned for a moment that I might have been a bit too vague.

        Um, yeah. Family? I love my parents. I do. I also love the fact that I live 3,000 miles away from them. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and all that jazz.

  5. Enjoy reading your blog. As for my once-a-year thing, I sincerely believe that all sports championships/playoffs/whatevers should be simultaneously on the same day every year. Maybe then I can get her out of her Dyke Cave (what is it with butches and their ‘caves’ anyway?) and into the land of fresh air and sunlight.

    Second to this is Little Debbie. She should only be allowed to those damn glazed donut sticks once a year – for my hips’ sake.

    • Hmmm, can’t get on board with the sports thing. If I had a butch cave, I would never leave.

      Didn’t know Little Debbie was in the donut business. That girl is so unassuming but a total pro in the kitchen. I’ll have to keep an eye out for the glazed donut sticks.

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