Let me say a few words about Palm Springs:

There is a speed limit, but it’s really quite arbitrary.  The residents, average age probably being around 60 years, either crawl along 10 mph below the recommended 45, or race by at 20 mph faster.  Not that miles per hour mean anything to little ol’ Canadian me.

The warmth.  Even when they tell you it gets quite chilly at night, it’s still balmy enough to swim around like mermaids in the pool at 9pm.

It’s so very American and commercialized, the whole outdoor mall setup.  It’s oddly comforting – like a hug from your grade one teacher.  It pats your back saying, “It’s okay, sweetie.  You’re on vacation.”

Another weirdly nice thing was being surrounded by senior citizens.  It allowed some a sense of removal .  It also made us appreciate any young guy so much more (ie. hot toffee stand guy, hot P.F. Chang’s waiter…)

Every night found us floating in the hot tub, admiring how prominent the stars are in the dark desert (also, I kick ass at naming constellations) before falling asleep by midnight.

It was probably the best thing for me at this time.  There was never a moment where I was unhappy.  Not because of the individual things just mentioned, but how they came together to morph into the perfect getaway.

I won’t waste any more of my word count bragging about, and pining for, Palm Springs (but, oh, it was so waaaaarrrrmmmmmm…).  No, instead I’ll zone in what this lovely little getaway did for me, and how and why it would be good for you too.

Right before my reading break from university, I was feeling stuck.  Specifically in school, generally in life (and, okay, maybe I’m really no more mobile even now).  But this trip allowed me to relax.  Escape from the Bat Cave, hang up my utility belt and hood, and just be Bruce Wayne for a week (minus the whole playboy thing…just jovial and enjoying life).

I’ve come back rejuvenated.  I’m ready to kick some ass, not just in school but in all other aspects.  The biggest thing isn’t only the coffee I’m trickling back into my life, but the focus and determination I’ve gained for the rest of the school term.

I just needed a step back, a few deep breaths, and a week by the pool to secure it.

I’m not saying a getaway necessarily entails flying down to the Land of the Old, or anywhere else, really.  In fact, according to the dictionary widget on my laptop, it simply means, “an escape or quick departure, especially after committing a crime”.

Well, okay, don’t do THAT.  But do allow yourself to escape from reality.  Give yourself a night – or a weekend, if you can afford it – off.  Lock yourself in your room with a few good movies, a book, some food… At the end of your es-cah-pay, maybe make a note or list (I do love lists) of where you’re at.  What you want to focus on, what you need to focus on, and somehow muster up the motivation to do so.

On that note, I should really be studying for one of the two midterms I have this Friday.  So I’ll leave you with a picture of empty Mexican Coca-Cola bottles from our last night.

Be merry.


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