Worn out from laughing

Having fun is a tough job but someone’s gotta do it. Actually it’s not that hard. Gather a bunch of footloose women, give them a couple days in a luxurious beach house, and you’ve got fun.

On the way to Sal’s, the benefactor of this wonderful retreat, I picked up Cathi. Fun is at your doorstep when in the company of someone whose first name ends in an “i.” They are inherently funny. Cathi tossed her frozen steak for the evening’s barbecue on the dashboard against the front windshield. At our first stop, the mailbox at the end of her driveway, she ruffled through letters then stuffed them back in. “’Just want to make sure there are no bills my husband shouldn’t see.” I guess everyone has secrets. Jenny Craig doesn’t know my real weight.

Two cars headed out for our adventure. I drove a group of four. Debi, another “i” party animal (we were in for a wild weekend), had just returned that afternoon from Nashville and the Nash Trash tours with the naughty pink ladies. Cathi and I looked at one another with a glimmer of mischief in our eyes. We could do that! The Gossip Gals in a purple bus. Living a dream in our heads was interrupted by a sharp turn to the left. The now semi-frozen steak landed in my lap.

The excitement for our new career subsided into hunger. Everything eventually turns into reminders for food. Whip out the chips and guacamole, and the homemade caramel corn. We women knew how to travel. Then Cathi dragged out a bag of broccoli. Who would bring broccoli to a retreat? Maybe I spoke prematurely about Cathi being fun. The moisture on the defrosting bag made a great Handi-wipe for our sticky hands. With all the goodies consumed, we’d use broccoli as Roto Rooter.

After dinner, I donned my late night swimsuit, the comfortable one that’s stretched out and kind of thin on the toosh. The foam of the waves sparkled across the expanse of the horizon. As the breezed picked up, the waves billowed and crashed to shore. They exploded like a display of well-timed fireworks against the retaining wall. The spray danced on the edge of the hot tub.

We swapped stories of left-at-home husbands and kids, laughed, and felt lighter — each transformed into that person whose name ended in an “i”. Salli, Suzi, Nanci, Laurelei, Penni, and, of course, Cathi and Debi.

We brought out a board game — Smarty Party. The player supplying the last correct answer for a named category holds a pair of blue rubber Smarty Pants until dethroned. Cathi stuck two fingers into the rubber pants and annoyingly did the two-finger, two-step with the pants on the table. I grabbed them off her fingers when she bent her two dressed up appendages at the knuckles and started singng One More Night from Les Mis.

We were an impressive group when recalling the cast of Friends, and even the Scooby-Doo and Jetsons characters. Cathi did a great impression of Rosie, the robot maid. She says at home, her shoulders droop just like Rosie when anyone leaves clothes for her to pick up. But we were less remarkable when identifying the biggest brand names in the world. Who would have thought that Gucci wouldn’t be on the list? Did you know that elephant and aardvark are not names of animals on the Chinese calendar? Cathi, the most musical in our group, belted out Oklahoma for one of her answers. No, it wasn’t Rogers & Hammerstein’s musicals. It was First states to ratify the constitution. Bzzzzzt! The next card joined Common cosmetic surgery procedures and primary male vocal ranges. Whoever came up with that combination? Each of us supplied hints by displaying our scars. Suzi took one look at me and shouted out, “breast reduction.”  We were sailing along, until I called out Soprano.

Salli held onto the blue rubber pants at the end of the game. We went to bed late with no headaches. Waves melodiously thrashing against the retaining wall.

In the morning, we walked barefoot on the shore where receding waters had been just the night before. Surfers dotted the seascape.  Gray pelicans dive bombed into the water to catch breakfast. See how anything ends up reminding you of food? A brazen seagull joined us for French toast.

After breakfast, we heated up the hot tub again. We worked up a routine for a water ballet. Just raising our legs out of water worked up an appetite for lunch.

One of the gals brought handmade ornate jewelry to pass around while we ordered at the restaurant. Nanci, tried on one with large stones, and asked, “How does this look?”

“Like How come you’ve got all those rocks around your neck?” I answered. Laurelei handed her a double mirror compact. She opened it, but couldn’t get the full picture in the small reflection. I grabbed it from her hands and turned the compact sideways. She had a mirror for each boob. Only one looked a lot closer.

The surprising thing was that I didn’t need make-up, or a curling iron, my cute outfits and matching sandals, or my daytime bathing suit. No one cared.

Today I came back to reality — to being Penny. I ate my two egg white omelet and bowl of oatmeal, and went to work with a smile on my face. Just faintly I can see a dolphin playfully jumping in the far away mist.

Thanks, Salli with an “i”.