So, it’s the last week of March and I’m not in Florida.
We had to skip Mets Spring Training & Barrett-Jackson Palm Beach because of life shit (nothing bad, just being careful). I didn’t think I’d miss it all that much, but I was wrong. And why am I so sure? Evidence strongly suggests the subconscious is acting out again. It’s like my inner-self knows I should be on vacation and is guiding my actions accordingly. Exhibits A, B & C – all procured on Saturday: new Chanel shades, a Kat Von D Sinner/Saint compact (cheesy, yes, but irresistible nonetheless), and a “Big Brown Bag” of Bloomingdale’s friends & family sale nonsense. The only thing missing is dinner at Benihana.
At this rate, I won’t make it to any destination for vacation this year. I’ll end up sitting at home in my designer studded jeans (I told you it was bad) counting my lipsticks.
To add insult to injury, SPEED is airing at least three quarters of its bazillion hours of B-J coverage during work hours. The exception is Saturday -- but I have a $alon appointment which will probably take all day. Good lord, I sound high maintenance.
Alright. So spring vacation was a no go. Buying a shitload of expensive crap is not going to change anything. Let's be reasonable; B-J Palm Beach kind of sucks anyway. Plus, it’s a whole lot of trouble to wrangle up a $9K deposit just to be too shy to say “hi” to Steve Magnante.
Here's to Fantasy Bidding.