For the most part, I'm not a big fan of reality. It's not really that fun. Come on, admit it. What's so fun about reality? Work, bills, work. Have I mentioned work and bills? There. That about sums it up. Sure, I know it's all a part of life but it's certainly not the fun part and I'm all about the fun part. I like to enjoy life. We all do. Well, most of us anyway. The fact that I have a little trouble snapping back to reality coupled with me being a constant dreamer is not an easy mix.
I'm always dreaming of what kind of fabulous life I could be leading, of what kind of fabulous life I should be leading. And believe me, I should be leading a fabulous life. Why? Well, because that's the way I dreamt it should be and my dreams should always come true. Don't question it. I don't.
Last week I was prepared for a time of fabulosity. My friend Roach was coming to visit and I knew reality would be thrown out the window. I can always count on my Roach to bring the entertainment and I was not disappointed. Neither were the people around us. For a brief moment in time it was all about us. Wait, did I say that? I didn't really mean that. It's pretty much always about us so let me rephrase that.
For a brief moment in time where ever we went the world was our stage. Wait, that doesn't work either. Isn't the world always our stage? Hhmm. Ok, ok, here's what I meant to say. We were together. Me and Roach. Roach and I. United. Together again. Tag Team. Double Trouble. I think Mike was a little scared. We took San Diego by storm and for those few days all was right with the world. The universe was aligned. All was as it should be.
We headed to the wineries to entertain the masses. And entertain we did. I won't go into details. Some things are better left to the imagination. But there was a lot of camera action, statue posing and climbing of walls. Just a little note though - when you climb a wall, always make sure you aren't afraid of heights. Getting down isn't as easy as getting up. Roach found that out the hard way......
The best part of when a friend visits is the sleepover. You always know they are going to be there when you wake up and you can start planning your day together. They don't leave and go home. Not yet anyway. Before it all ended we even managed to slip in a royal wedding sleepover at another friend's house. Tea for me, Tequila for Roach. Hey, we all have our preferences. Then it was time for Beer Fest 2011.
A few microbreweries, a paddle for spanking your a** (ok, so that's not really what it was for - it may have just been a beer holder) and new friends for Roach completed the trip. I never stopped laughing. Wait, scratch that. The end. I stopped at the end. When my Roach left me. And reality came crashing back. Damn. Reality. The end of fabulosity. Which begs the question - why can't we get paid just to be fabulous? I saw how much we were entertaining people while we were out. Roach saw it. Our friends saw it. We have pictures to prove it. Ah, a girl can dream, can't she?