Don’t Bother Me, I’m on Staycation

Sorry for the lapse, but I’ve been trying to adjust to being back home. Back to the gym. Back to the diet. Responsibilities. Bills. Life stress. And after a week of checking out all that’s changed here – from the new paper towel dispensers at Gold’s to my dear friend Stephanie’s growing girth to the revamped Disney stage show at the El Capitan Theater – I’ve resolved to check out, period. Staycation. Who needs a far away island when you can create that same sense of retreat at home?

Declaring a staycation is kind of like declaring a period of celibacy when you’re really just having trouble getting any – it’s a pre-emptive strike. It’s shooting the finger at the working world with your 1987 “Don’t bother me; I’m on vacation!” bumper sticker. Except that no one notices the difference between a person getting a hurried latte at the Coffee Bean and a person ordering a glass of wine at lunch. Especially in L.A., where everyone could be “producing” or waiting for a call-back or silently fading from fame. Or staycationing.

So, while no one has noticed, I’ve seen the John Lautner show at the Hammer Museum, followed by a fantasy, “what’s-my-dreamhouse?” session of drawing. I have shopped for new iPhone applications at the iTunes store, discovering one called Shazam, which was perfectly constructed for all those times I heard a great song in a store and wanted to know what it was. I’ve seen 5 movies in 5 days, eaten popcorn at each, and reconfirmed that the Arclight’s is the best. And I’ve wandered into – and subsequently participated in – a belly dancing exercise class, replete with a ching-chang skirt, music from “Dreamgirls,” and instructions like “Pull-it-in-and-shake-it-up. In…and up. In…and up.”

A report out yesterday said that Americans drove 12.2 billion fewer miles in June than the same month a year earlier. With gas prices still soaring (I’m sorry, but coming down to $4.29 from $5.15 does not impress), we canceled our planned road trip to Colorado this week. But the real reason had nothing to do with gas; I was enjoying my staycation too much.

Next week, I’ll be taking another before-summer-ends vacation. After all this activity in my staycation, I will likely need one. And oh – you’ll be able to tell the difference. Because, ironically, on vacation, I’ll likely be writing a whole lot more of these.

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