Chou-Chou�s 30 in �03 � The Trip

2003-07-31 - 1:20 p.m.

Day One

I woke up at the flight attendant�s insistence that I put my seat in the upright position, and to some brilliantly bright sun. It was now about 9:15 AM on Friday. Honestly, there is very little that can salve my soul like Floridian sunshine. Except Floridian sunshine on Lummus Park Beach. So I dropped off my luggage at the Whitelaw Hotel and hurried to the Beach. (I wore my bikini under my clothes.)

Honestly, there is no sound in the world like the sound of waves lapping against the sand. To me, it�s the most beautiful sound in the world. Sun, sand, sea. I was home again. THIS is my happy place. When I meditate and need to go to a soothing place� when I�m too depressed and don�t want to think of anything�this is where my mind goes to. When I�m sleeping and my soul needs recharging, this is where it goes to. The ocean is the sound that I hear in my ears. And what I feel is the sand beneath my feet and the sun warming my skin. South Beach, Miami Beach, whatever you want to call it...This is my seventh heaven.

I wonder how many lifetimes I�ve kept coming back here? I wonder when I discovered this? I remember the very first time I came to this beach in this lifetime, to this spot (it�s always the same spot) and I thought to myself, �I�m home. THIS is where I belong.� How is it and why is it that this never changes?

The only thing that broke this bit of heaven was the fact that I picked a lounge chair close to what I thought were two European men. How did I assume that? The bad taste in clothes and past skin, of course. I turned out to be wrong, very wrong, even worse, there were more than two. I decided to tune out �the Nipple Patrol� and enjoy the sun.

I headed back to the hotel when Chou-Chou phoned saying she was on her way to the hotel. It was sooo good to see her again. We went to get lunch. I was aiming for San Loco, but apparently I�ve been gone for so long, I couldn�t remember where it was at, so we had sushi at my favorite place on Washington Ave. On the way down to lunch Chou-Chou spotted a boutique that had some corsets in the window, we decided to stop in on the way back. The place is called Belinda�s (on Washington Ave.) and if you want a dress fit for a nymph, a wedding gown fit for a fairy bride, or the best fitting couture gown you can think of, this is the place to go. Chou-Chou treated herself to such a gown (pictures to come later.) She was fitted by the designer herself, thank you very much, and the gown is absolutely fabulous!

We came across another Leo �girl� who was celebrating her birthday during the hotel happy hour. She said she was 30. Unfortunately for her, I don�t think she was lying. I would have placed her at 37, but if she would have asked, I would have said 35 to be generous. Wow, how do you make yourself look that old?? When I told BW about the unfortunate Leoline, she said that I must remember that not everyone cares for themselves as we do. The scary part is that I know I don�t care for myself as much as I should. (YES, I was smoking and drinking while in SoBe!) She also seemed pretty desperate for a not unattractive woman. She was being turned down by the 20-something boys she was trying to pick up, but 20-something boys tend to get offended if you ask them (oh, yeah she did) if they are bi-sexual, especially in front of their male buddies. Way to go, girl!

It must be noted that Chou-Chou and I made a valiant effort to go out that night. We dressed up and we went to dinner at grillfish on Espanola& Collins. It was good to talk to Chou-Chou and tell her about the neurotic executives that were inherited with the new division we bought, about how she�s doing w/her new beau, about STUFF. After that, we attempted to find Maze, but it turned out to be further than we thought. So instead, we stopped off and picked up mixers for vodka and I drank myself to much, much needed sleep. Hee.

Day Two

Chou-Chou woke me up so we could have breakfast together before she went in for her day of spa at Le Spa on 8th Street. After Chou-Chou departed, I acted like I was on vacation: I went back to the room and napped, then I went shopping, then I napped, then I wondered around South Beach aimlessly, then I WATCHED TV. Things I just don�t normally get to do. I realize that this might sound terribly normal, but I just don�t normally get to do such things. I don�t even have cable because I just don�t get to watch tv that much, so why pay for it?

I must now speak of what turned out to be the most comical moment of the trip. I go meet Chou-Chou at the Spa and am greeted, not by my best-friend, but by some ravishing absolutely magnificent creature. She looked not just fabulous, but what is the word�.SPLENDID. I don�t think I ever remember seeing her look quite so shockingly glamorous. I�m so shock I have to keep staring at her. And her makeup artist is simply beyond proud, I can tell.

Kids, you wanna know what happens to you after you live in a place like Little Rock for awhile? Well, I�ll tell you: We leave the spa and Chou-Chou says, �I look like a painted whore.�

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

�Chou-Chou, you do NOT look like a painted whore.� How long has she lived in Little Rock now? I swear the girl was trying to wipe her lips off and I wouldn�t have been surprised if she had started crying. Good Goodness! You�d think they�d put her in the trashiest Fredrick�s of Hollywood whore outfit and threw her out into the street. What has that little hick state done to my best friend?! She�s now having trouble differentiating the difference between going out looks for Little Rock or a metropolitan city like Miami. Forget that, she�s using the term �painted whore!� If we were in New York, I would have used her instead of me to get us through doors. Honestly, I don�t know if she got over it. I simply didn�t see much difference between that makeover and other makeovers we�ve gotten at Lancome counters, aside from it being complete as opposed to partial. But I guess to people in states like Arkansas the more cosmopolitan cities seem �whorish.� (Have I mentioned lately how I love New York?)

Note to self: Do not take super glossy lipstick/gloss to Little Rock�unless I�m planning on walking the streets.

We went straight away to Belinda�s, because I was not comfortable with picking up her gown without at least another fitting. I had absolutely naught to worry about, the gown was PERFECT, simply perfect. Now that�s a seamstress. And of course, they were simply fretting over her and telling her how wonderful she looked�and proceeded to take tons of pictures of her. Somehow, I don�t think they do that for �painted whores,� but what would I know? Everyone knows I�m a �painted whore�. lol I am the girl who lugged fairy wings & heavy glitter to South Beach in case I decided to go to Anthem�s Mid-Summer Night�s Dream party that Sunday.

That evening, we headed out to Opium Garden. We went inside to the VIP room so that we could cool off (Opium Garden is an outside club) and so we could look below us. As I was scoping out the VIP tables outside to see which table we would join, I hear a cute Irish accent whispered (at least it sounded like a whisper over the loud music) hello in my ear. *sigh* I am a sucker for Irish accents. And the Irish are pretty darn good in bed. We joined their little group. Chou-Chou was a great sport, chatting with the other guys while I made my claim on the Irish Boy. There was a moment, minutes after we joined them, that the boys started scoping the beautiful Miami women that walked by. I put a stop to that by putting one stiletto clad foot on the low table, thereby putting my legs into view and having their eyes back where they belonged: on me.

I could have danced all night, but Irish Boy was pouting. He had a flight to catch at 9AM. He said he had to be at Giants Stadium by 1PM for training for a game he was playing in a game in New York. So we left. Chou-Chou, being the sport, promised that she would be ok catching a cab back to the hotel. Having done that many times, I didn�t worry.

Irish Boy told me in the cab ride to the hotel how he loved being a football (that�s soccer to us) player. He would retire at 35, so that was a major perk. However, the strict allowance they were kept on, sucked when you�re 26. (He�s 26!)

He was so *eager* to get to the hotel room. He had a nice body, in great shape. And you know, what they lack for in skill at that age, they certainly make up for in stamina. And despite the fact that he promised to �fuck me until they knocked on his door to get him to the airport,� I was NOT about to spend a night away from my nice comfortable bed with soft Belgium linens. So I had my way with him, waited until he was asleep, got dressed and headed back to my nice comfortable bed. (I am such a guy sometimes.) I did, in case you were wondering, tell him that I was leaving.

Day Three

We spent recouping. We piddled around Ocean Drive, Lincoln Road Mall, watched movies, relaxed. So cool to hang out with my best friend. And I also had a grown up moment. I was offered a $250 designer bikini for $80 and I walked away. Of course, as soon as I stepped out of the store, I felt faint and asked Chou-Chou to hold me. Being a grown up sucks. Remind me to add that $250 to Baby Sis�s growing tab.

Day Four

Nothing much to tell. Chou-Chou left early, I slept late, packed and headed to the beach. I was one with my happy place until it was time to leave for the airport.

As always, it was supposed to rain that weekend and didn�t. As always it rained while I was leaving. I must come back soon.

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