A Holiday

I used to think it was cute and cheeky how the British use the word "holiday" instead of "vacation."  Oh, those Brits.  After the past week and a half or so though I might be starting to catch their drift.  A vacation can actually start feeling like a holiday very quickly.

Just the other weekend I had the great pleasure to have a weekend away in San Francisco where my dear friend Margaret recently moved to.  From the moment of buying my ticket on a Southwest fare sale the month prior, the anticipation built.  Eventually it soon became the eve before, and if it weren't for the spa night I had treated myself to in honor of Valentine's Day, I'm not sure if I would have caught a wink of sleep.  Not necessarily because my level of excitement was so high, as much as I was in a state of utter confusion over what to pack for the temperatures.  Nothing is more confusing than the range of 50s to low 70s Fahrenheit in just a weekend's time.  Scarves?  Jackets?  Tights?  Was more less or less more?  It was California after all.  Again, thankfully the massage (and facial) had wound me down...

The state of disarray that was my luggage did turn out to be the lone symbol of stability of that weekend.  I say that because all it did was sit.  My friends and I on the other hand did anything but.  We tackled the busy crowds at the market.  We waited in lines for just one cup of coffee (okay actually that was just me).  We dined on oysters and artisan sandwiches.  Sipped on craft cocktails and wine.  Climbed the steepest of hills.  Then we had to have a driver take us to Napa so we could tour wineries and have a gourmet lunch complete wines.  Oh, and the shopping.  The things we had to go through to enjoy such a lovely city. Of course I don't even have to mention the fact that we all had to deal with each other for the entire course of it.  It was simply exhausting.

A lot of work goes into holidays.  You scour the sales and put in weeks of preparation in finding just the right things and making sure the packaging is just perfect-or at least shows as little distress as possible.  Crowds are fought and lines waited out, but all in the good name of friendly faces and holiday cheer.  Sometimes you find yourself in a squabble, though only for a good meal and more help from the wine, to turn it into a fit of giggles.

The most exhausting part of any holiday though is when you sit down.  Everything before that moment you were just having a blast, even with the squabbles.  The minute you sit down though you realize your aches, pains, and general mental fatigue.  Then you get right to thinking about your next joyful holiday.