Queens of the Road

No time to dwell on the details of someone else’s life for now. I have a Girls Weekend to prepare for.

As Girls Weekends go, I consider myself fortunate. What started with an annual pilgrimage to the shore, turned into that plus a Rock Star vacation to a dessert resort out west, to those plus an ad hoc trip to another city or the home of a friend who lives remotely in some desirable fun location. All in the same year. And maybe even one more trip. All with a bevy of beauties I call my dearest friends.

This trip is to the shore. Not that we get to the beach. We rent as many rooms as needed, all in a row, always in the same hotel, for as many as 20 women, but more often than not, the steady ender 5 or 6 that would only miss the trip because of pregnancy, near death experience, or disfiguring flesh-eating disease.

We’ve been doing this for over 20 years – and this year will be no different. At different times during the day, Joy, Penny, Kate, Kelly, Jill and I will take to our cars, each of us buffed, waxed, mani-ed and pedi-ed, with suitcases packed to where the zipper tines are screaming for mercy. All with cell phones affixed to our heads so that we can keep in constant touch and track each other’s ETAs.

Preparing for this trip is quite an undertaking. Some of these girls I see only a few times a year. It is time to get your very best Girl on. Haircut timed so that it is at its peak for the weekend. Hair color similarly timed. Diets and workout regiment strictly adhered to for weeks. And that is to say nothing of the meticulous attention to packing the right outfit choices, the right number of choices, the perfect shoes, jewelry and accessories for each and every anticipated activity.

There is a minimum of three bathing suits – one for Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Plan to wear the one that requires the best shape on Friday before the drinking and fatty foods and late night snacking takes its toll on the beach body you’ve whipped into shape for just this occasion. The suits should each be making their Girls Weekend Debut. None shall have made the trip before.

Pool attire worn over the suits should be casual enough to be considered “not trying too hard” but flattering enough that it can make the trip to the beach bar without embarrassing the others.

Outfits. Friday is generally casual. Very casual. I should be prepared to sit poolside drinking canned beer from Kate’s collapsible cooler that makes the trip every year. We could be sitting there all night.

But in case we aren’t, I should have a No Shower Happy Hour outfit planned. One where I ditch the suit and put on something that a) won’t get permanently ruined by my suntan lotion and b) can be worn into the bar with a pair of flip-flops and my hair either in a pony tail or under a hat.

Oh yes, and something for Kate. Her suitcase will not be screaming for mercy. She may not actually have a suitcase.