Girl Interrupted

Tick, tock, I’m 12 hours away from my departure from this miserable brown bag of a town to the fine sands of South Beach. I can taste the fresh mint and rum waltzing in my mouth, mingling with the smell of the ocean breeze as I sit poolside at the Shore Hotel. Vacation mode sets in. I lay sipping, as the sun and it’s fingertip rays prey it’s razor sharp molten heat into a chocolate cinnamon tan line. The famous words of Angela, “Shellie’s like a beacon! You can spot her a mile away on the beach. That girl gets dark!”

I need a break. This here woman is plain exausted. From trying to figure out the wedding details to seeking a permanent position, that four day happy hour couldn't come at a better time. I can't wait to take a plunge into that ocean and close my eyes to the sound of the ebb and flow of waves.

It's that time boys and girls! It’s Sophia’s bachelorrette party. I’ve never been to Miami so my curiousity keeps jabbing me. Are all the men Tubb and Crocket look alikes? Will Gloria Estafan shake her congas and greet us upon arrival? Will Ricky Martin boogie his cancan while we’re living ma vida loca? Will Donatella Versace strut her blonde locks on the sizzle sidewalks of South Beach? I can't wait to get sucked into the hardbody mecca and the gravity of vanity. These two days of gray and rain are for the dogs. Miami's the pooh so take a sniff!

As I sit here trying to excavate my emotions for the week, my clothes are taking shelter in my hamper. I'm a last minute packer. I enjoy the jolt of last minute spontanaeity like forgetting my toothbrush, shoes and credit card. Damn, I can’t bite Shane's head off, because he won’t be there. Scapegoat anyone?

I need to make way to a nail salon. I promised Sophia, in order to prevent a citywide evacuation, that I paint these toes that, if I’m not mistaken, belong to a possum. I just got off the phone with her. She's really bringing the axe down on my toes. I guess it would be embarassing trodding along with my atrocious talons.

I’m loading up my ipod for the flight and packing my knitting essentials. Did the alarm just go off for a nerd alert? Bite me.

This puts a delay on my wedding plans, which I think is best for everyone. My wedding coordinator just left for her vacation and won't be back until the 28th. The wedding’s going to be fine. The only thing that’s a sure fire is, choke, expensive. I’m simply content that my friends and family will be there.

I hate flying especially when it’s without Shane. He knows how terrified I am about takeoffs and landings. I think the concept of flying is absolutely insane. Especially, when paying a stranger to put my life in his hands for something that isn’t a guarantee. Ding! Stewardess, valium pronto.

I’m sure that South Beach will be fantastic, I will miss Shane. I won’t feel too terrible as he will be attending Kurt’s bachelor’s in Las Vegas. Las Vegas the hell for losers and home for hookers and winners. I won't feel to terrible when the bachelors will feast and oggle at Stripper Sundays poolside of the Hard Rock.

I love life and I just love to live it! Instead of allowing life to take a chomp out of you, take a bite out of life! Remember to relish, chew and swallow, otherwise you'll choke.

This is Shellie Cadelinia advising you to floss! Back to you bob at the studio!