Leaving Nashville and heading to sunny Key West was no difficult task. I managed to fit right in with the red necks, gays and high-class folks (well, not really this group) but having a pool boy wait on me hand and foot for days on end was fabulous…

Where’s Tom Hanks and a blow dryer when you need him?
I kicked off my trip with a Sunset Colada – Captain Morgan in a pina colada. Hello love at first sip!
While sipping on my new favorite beach cocktail, I died and went to heaven, then came back to Earth as I ate fresh stone crab claws.
We crossed the longest bridges that I’ve ever seen – it was like the movie Groundhog’s Day, only above water.
Meanwhile in Nashville, Teddy was putting a voodoo hex on me with his glowing eyes and ultra scowly face. I received this photo while pulling into the hotel…(don’t let that face fool you. Mom said it sounded like a bowling alley when Ted and his two feline uncles were playing the nights away – he was having fun but just being a bitch about it!).
I quickly forgot about what a grouchy cat I’d be coming home to once I laid eyes on my home for the next few days.
Upon checking into the hotel, I wanted to see what beach rules I could break.
Regardless, I was overjoyed to be on vacation and accidentally got ‘happy’ in the hammock.
And then on the way to dinner, I then gave my best Cameron Diaz impression from There’s Something About Mary.
After a relatively early evening (the hammock cocktail party started way too early), I got up the next morning and did yoga on the beach. There was only one other person, so it was like a private session – score!
After the hour-long (exhausting because I was so dehydrated) yoga, I parked it poolside with a mimosa (because alcohol always helps rehydrate, right?).
My home away from home proved to be more luxurious and relaxing than the mini manse I share with Ted.
As I walked the streets of Key West, I realized it should be my new place of residence. Pink shutters….
Kit cat mailboxes…(and yes, I was a creepy tourist almost on someone’s front porch. Trespassing, anyone?).
And pink taxis…!
After walking the streets of Key West for all of 1/2 mile, it was pool time once again.
While I was enjoying my 139th Skinny Pirate, I came up with a brilliant idea. All on accident…

Hair makes a nice place to keep a straw when not drinking. I should probably patent this idea, don’t you think?
After all of the rum, I balanced out with a little (really, a truckload of) food. Lobster and corn on the cob (not as good as Iowa sweet corn but still good enough to eat like I’d just discovered a new delicatessen) happily kept me grounded (and the room from spinning).
Between mouthfuls of lobster and sips of Skinny Pirates, I commented on a fellow bar rat’s Tennessee hat. Our conversation went as follows (with me doing most of the talking – surprise!):
“OMG! You’re from Iowa? Me too! You used to live in Des Moines?! Me too! You’re a Hawkeye fan wearing a Tennessee hat? Wait, you live in Nashville?! Me too!” This man was so schnokered up, he would have told me he was my long, lost uncle and I would have believed him. Being blonde is hard work.
While perusing shops at midnight with an overloaded stomach, I saw this oh-so-perfect for me dish towel. I wanted to break the glass window of the closed store to get it…hence the reason why I needed the damn towel!
Keeping the make new friends tradition alive, I ran into a local Key West celeb (I only knew this after he was pointed out to me, therefore I felt the need to rush right over and become instant besties)- the mayor. So I did what all tourists do and got the camera out.
Ten hour days of cocktailing is exhausting work. Below is what I require in order to marathon drink five days in a row…
While a little sad on the way back to Nashville, I snapped pics of the bridges once again. Only this time I was about 2.3 million brain cells short of completing a panoramic shot with my iPhone.

The wizardry of my photo genius. I somehow missed half of the car. Yes, you can hire me but it’s going to cost you.
So was Mr. Bear happy to see my tanned, relaxed face? I think all of you cat owners know the answer.
Forced snuggling usually does the trick…
And when snuggling doesn’t work, I use the mauling tactic.
You can imagine my happiness when I stepped into a nice pile of “F-you Mom” regurgitated cat food yesterday morning. And now I can rest easy, knowing I was missed.
Cheers!
CBXB