p.s.

Dearest Readers,


I want you to know that today I am a new woman. Renewed. Invigorated.


Watch out.


Sincerely,


April


P.S. I should probably also mention that Sugar Daddy and I spent the weekend away from our little brood of three in Palm Springs (P.S. for short).  We stayed at The Colony Palms Hotel which was built in the 30's by notorious gangster Al Wertheimer. The Hotel was a destination spot for young Hollywood elite during the 30's and 40's.


I fell in love with the architecture and design of the hotel.  It was a breath of fresh air after staying in Hiltons and Hyatts and the like.

You may be sitting there looking at your computer screen thinking to yourself, now what could you possibly do in Palm Springs in June? Isn't is like a billion degrees?

To that I say, yes. It is like standing on the surface of the freakin' sun.  

But. There are no children there to need something right this instant before they starve to death/pinch their fingers/wipe boogers on the wall/lose all muscle control and fall to the ground in agony.

So you are free to lay by the pool for an absurd amount of time sipping mint lemonades and watching all the pretty couples make-out in the pool.

And you might take a bath or two in the claw foot tub and watch movies in your room under the ceiling fan whilst eating chocolate covered cranberries.

And there's other stuff too.

On that note, let's revisit the pretty people.  There was a disproportionate amount of glamorous types staying at The Colony Palms.  And really how's a girl to feel?  So many firm unbabybirthing bodies in tiny little bikinis.  There was a lot of long strait hair framing expensive looking sunglasses. The men wore linen shirts unbuttoned to expose suntanned bodies and walked around like they owned the place.  They wore their large watches into the pool.

I gawked, hidden behind my own moderately priced sunglasses.  Our lemonades were unleaded and we made sure to slather every inch of our bodies with 50 spf.  Sugar Daddy sat under the umbrella in his Clark Kent glasses and worked on his laptop a little.  I busied myself adjusting my swimsuit to strategically cover all things that the sun and other people should never see and feeling quite like a big poser and wondering just when I lost my moxie.

Which got me feeling pretty irritated with the unbabybirthing beauties.  I just wanted to stand up in my Shade swimsuit and say to each one of those girls, "Hey you girls, just you wait! Do you even know how many calories are in those cocktails your downing one right after another? Of course you don't. Well lemme tell you something! Enjoy it. Enjoy it now because in ten years it will be a different ball game. And not a fair one at that!" That would show em.

But after a time I calmed down. And I owned my Shade swimsuit and lemonade. Sugar Daddy came out from under the umbrella and we took a dip. We didn't make-out in the pool because first, ew, p.d.a. is w.t., and second we have been together long enough to realize that the true measure of love is found when after sixteen years of marriage, you still have stuff to talk about.

You know, interesting stuff like the future of real estate, home decor and sippy cups.

You can see more pics of our trip here.