I have wanted to go to Hawaii ever since I saw “The Brady Bunch” episode where Greg nearly died while surfing.  And while I’m not hoping for a Hawaii-curse … I am hoping for two weeks of mindless relaxation in early January. 

I take my vacations very seriously.  I try to maximize as much sloth as possible.  Unfortunately, I typically travel with my best friend Eric … who plans each day down to the minute.  He’s like Hitler – Your Cruise Director.  We’ve nearly killed each other on several trips because he’s athletic and motivated.  His idea of a good time is to wake up at 6am to go hiking or kayaking.  My idea of a good time is getting up at the crack of noon to stumble down to a pool chair where I’m fanned with palm fronds and leisurely fed grapes.  And there had better be an umbrella drink in my hand at all times. 

He’s Sporty Spice.  I’m Get-The-Hell-Away-From-Me-I’m-Trying-To-Nap Spice.  

Because I travel so much for a living, I tend to be a bit extravagant when I actually do take vacations.  For instance … I’m staying in a 7-star Marriott resort.  (And you thought there were only 5-star hotels – shame on you.)  I booked a sweet suite with a killer balcony where I can prop my feet up, read a book and stay out of the sun. 

Eric has free reign over four days of our vacation … which will inevitably entail cliff diving, volcano exploration, shark hunting and multiple daily visits to Pearl Harbor.  The other four days will be a veritable orgy of spa treatments, fine cuisine, massages and napping.  

Hawaii has a lot of culture to soak in – which is fine – as long as culture is brought TO me.  If the Marriott is throwing a luau – I’m SO there.  If I have to get off of the plush beach chair and go somewhere – forget it.  

And if I’ve heard one person tell me how expensive Hawaii is … I’ve heard it from a dozen.  I’ve been saving pennies since April so I would have enough $BLING$ to spend money with wild abandon and not feel guilty.  Good thing too … the Marriott serves all their foo-foo drinks in frozen pineapples.  At $18 a pop.  I plan on having six of ‘em my first night. 

So here’s to my upcoming adventure of fun and merriment.  And here’s to me not drowning Eric during snorkeling practice.  His day.  Not mine.