While I’m off vacationing for the first time in I-can’t-remember-how-long-but-probably-not-as-long-as-I-think, decided to dust off this post from a couple of years ago about family vacations.
I’m not with actual family. I’m with friends. Which are sometimes better than family because they CHOOSE to relate themselves to you rather than just being forced to by genetics.
So, anyway, enjoy:
|Center of the World–Felicity, California|
This summer has been the busiest and most productive I’ve spent in a very, very long time. Possibly even ever. And it’s starting to show in the bags under my eyes, the constantly disheveled hair, and the fact that I’ve worn flip flops to work every single day for the past three weeks even though I almost never wear flip flops anywhere except to the pool.
|Somewhere in the Anza-Borego Desert, California|
|Lake Tahoe, California|
One thing I’ve really been thinking about A LOT, though, is that it’s not just about vacation. It’s not just about getting away, exploring new places, visiting old stomping grounds, and taking lots of cool photos while doing really relaxing/crazy/adventurous/stupid things.
|Las Vegas Strip–Las Vegas, Nevada|
Last week, as I gazed longingly at photos of my brother’s family trip to Hawaii and one friend’s family trip to Disney World and another friend’s family trip to the Midwest and two other friends’ family reunions, I was caught up by an unexpected sadness. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Why looking at pictures of other peoples’ family vacations full of joy and joyness would make me feel so down.
And then it hit me.
|St. George, Utah|
|Pismo Beach, California|