Tomorrow we are headed to LaJolla to branch out a little. That means forgoing the typical Laguna Beach destination for unchartered territory. Last time we did this (threw caution to the wind)we ended up at Mission Beach. Remember that old Sesame Street segment, ONE OF THESE THINGS DOESN'T BELONG HERE? It was us. We didn't belong there. This is an experiment.
Have I mentioned our room has a wood burning fireplace? The last time we had one of those we stayed at Sundance. Despite the fact that our room rate included a ski pass, I opted out. Instead, according to my husband, I fired up a cord of wood. Exactly my intention this weekend.
We've done our research and added those Diners, Drive-ins and Dives' destinations into 'ye olde GPS' (how I love thee). Don't you love how one-half of a couple always seems to say "our"?
Our backpack beach chairs are packed as well as stacks of reading material, heavy sweatshirts and 50 SPF sunscreen. Because even if I have to bundle myself up in multiple blankets, I will sit on that beach. Till sunset. It's our way. (That "our" was legitimate.)
On Monday we will take a drive up to Laguna Beach to sign the contract for our August vacation. I might be branching out for the weekend by staying someplace new for the weekend but, truth be told, I just don't want to be reckless about it.
If there's a story to be told, I shall blog. Especially if the Studio Diner really has the New England seafood they claim to have. Time will tell.
We leave after my (more regular than I would like) early dentist appointment. The dentist office where I willingly (not really) write checks for large amounts of money to have real life pain inflicted upon me. Where counseling is part of the deal (apparently): "Sometimes it helps to discuss our phobias." Perhaps this week I shall be lucky and there won't be a man whimpering in the dentist chair in the next room. Fact. Happened.
Will I get to Sprinkles, you ask? Barring an earthquake (or some other calamity/natural disaster/Sign of the Times), probably.