My Family's Version of "Camping."

I am currently sitting wedged between my two sisters, mid-air over the Pacific Ocean, traveling to Hawaii. Laura is sleeping soundly (Truthfully...snoring like a bear. She can't hear herself with her iPod in her ears on full blast, but we all can), Lindsay is restless and looking over my shoulder to read every word I type making me anxious, and I am well...blogging.

Every year my family takes a week or two from our clashing hectic schedules and come to this house on the south end of the island, Kauai. We never venture to another island, let alone even past the south shore. My boyfriend can't fathom the fact that someone can just sit at a house for an entire week while on vacation...his version of vacation is go, go, GO! We're definitely not hiking the tallest mountains or swimming with sharks...but we don't just "sit" technically...

Here, we live in the smallest bikinis we own to avoid all tan lines, rid ourselves of all Chanel make-up, and let our hair go to it's natural, completely uncontrollable state.

We spend all day swimming and snorkeling in front of our house, tanning on rafts by the pool, eating Puka dogs from a local Portuguese sausage stand, playing endless rounds of Bullshit on the deck, and occasionally roaming around our part of the island on our bicycles.

Our Hawaiian vacation is my family's version of "camping" - we forget our responsibilities, bond out of boredom, and turn into complete savages. It is one trip where I don't spend more than $500 on myself - who seriously wants cliche 5-star resort, overpriced, gift shop sunglasses??? - I'm completely content with eggs Benedict and a mimosa on our occasional venture within society once our groceries at home wear down towards the end if the week.

Of course by the last night were all itching to get home; my Mom misses our dogs, my Dad misses his office, my sisters miss their friends, and I miss my closet...but all we have to do is look at our tanned bare faces to know it was a successful week of complete escapement - and one we can't wait to repeat the following year.

Now I'm off to read the August issue of Vogue, that I hurriedly picked up at the airport newsstand before boarding the plane, and gain some inspiration for my next post...

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