Note to Self: How To Vacate The Premises

It is now mid-July, the traditional time of year for getting the hell out of Dodge, and I have so far made not one but two failed attempts to do so. In both cases, I  did technically leave, but that's about the only thing I did right. If it had only happened once, I'd say fair enough, we all make mistakes. Now that I've done it twice, it's time for some tough love. I need to spell this out for myself, as if I were 5.

#1: LEAVE.
The much-vaunted "staycation", so often cited as a wonderful option in the current economic climate, is a myth. It does not exist. If you "stay", you will not manage to "cation". Period. Ants will appear in the cat food bowl and you'll lose a whole day to "staying", certainly, but also "waiting for the pest control man to show up between 8 and 5". That is not a "cation", by any definition of that half-word. Or maybe you don't have a cat, which is why your car battery will die. Or maybe you don't drive, in which case: I hope you get over that nasty case of strep throat quickly! Or maybe you are the picture of health. Congratulations! You have a week off and you're ready to take on the world! Oh - except that you had to tell some little white lies to a few people so you could get out of certain social obligations, and now you get to think twice (or many more times than that) before leaving the house, visiting favorite haunts, or saying anything on social media that might make it clear that you aren't, in fact, at a funeral. Enjoy!

All I'm saying is I've done the research in my own lab, and the only way you will manage to forget all the crap that irritates you on a daily basis is to put as much physical distance between it and yourself as humanly possible. And don't stay with friends or family either. Go somewhere with a housekeeping staff, for God's sake.

#2. Travel with no more than one (1) other person with whom you share no DNA.
I have a great family, I really do. They're funny and smart and supportive and amazing. But I don't need to bring 32 years of love, heartache, resentments, arguments, losses, triumphs, memories, and other assorted drama on vacation; that's what Christmas is for. What I need to bring on vacation is my Kindle, my iPod, and a valid ID for booze acquisition. Of course, it can sometimes be fun to travel with a friend or significant other, but it's important to do your due diligence before buying those non-refundable tickets! To help you out, I've made a handy-dandy flowchart. Follow teal lines to answer yes, maroon lines to answer no.

(click to enlarge)

I've had some major successes and minor flops following the above advice, but at least you know it will prevent any major flops. Of course, you'll still have issues of mix tapes and how much Mexican food constitutes "too much Mexican food", but you'll just have to use your common sense to resolve those. Alternatively, you could...

#3. Go alone.
I've never traveled solo, but it seems like a more attractive option with each passing year. And since my latest return from a frazzled, nonstop, crammed-car FAILcation, I've taken an interest in the corner of the travel market geared toward people like me - hip, happening, childless thirtysomethings who need to unwind! From what I've seen, the places that cater to my niche fall into three categories:
a) Healthy Low-Fat Spa Retreats on beaches or, more commonly, in deserts. If you care about this category, you're reading the wrong blog. Eating twigs in the desert is NOT a vacation. Next!
b) Couples-friendly Resorts. Ugh. As you might have guessed by the name, this place is basically aimed at baby-talking kissy-faced couples. They have a wide variety of accommodations, and they all have names like "Romeo & Juliet Suite", "Tristan & Isolde Suite", "Harry & Sally Suite", or "Cupid's Poison Arrow Lovesick Vomitorium". I mean, I probably could enjoy myself at one of these places...provided I plucked my eyeballs out with thumbtacks and crammed whole quilts into my ears before the plane made its final descent.
c) Singles-friendly Resorts. OH DEAR GOD. Judging by their websites, these places are built on the premise that all single adults have the following things in common:

• We are exhibitionist nymphomaniacs who want to spend our evenings playing live game shows with names like "America's Next Top Anal Porn Star"
• We don't much care about food, so long as there is a LOT of booze around
• When we aren't having casual sex, we need a wide variety of clichéd vacation activities like parasailing and mountain biking, presumably so we never have a moment to feel old and alone (which is the only thing we really have in common, or so think the PR people)
• We still think we're on MTV's Spring Break 1991

As with the second category, you might think I could go to one of these places and just refrain from participating in that which does not interest me. But every time I try to envision it, I see a week's worth of me sitting at a beach or by a pool, reading a book while being interrupted every 5 minutes by some person or group of persons propositioning me either for sex or to round out an Ultimate Frisbee Team, both of which sound equally unappealing. Then I would go back to my room in the evening and be kept up all night by the strange and disturbing sounds in literally every adjoining room. No thanks. 

Why isn't there a 4th category? Like The Quiet, Child-Free Resort for People Who Just Want to Read, Sleep, Get Drunk, and Be Left The Hell Alone? Instead of a name like "Hedonism", you could call it "Retired Librarians"! I guarantee you I would go there every year for a month.