the rollaway.

"Girls Weekend!", and so it was decided, myself and four friends; Hayley, Nicole, Jenna and Noel would venture for an entire weekend to the foreign and spectacular land of Santa Barbara! It started out like every road trip; loud music, over the top ideas, inaccurate budgeting only to be followed by an awkward silence as everyone realizes they'd be spending more than they intended to. Nevertheless, we were excited. We piled into Nicole's car, plugged the destination into Hayley's portable GPS and hit the road. It should be noted that Hayley's GPS is programmed with the voice of a middle-aged English man we so lovingly named Bert. After 2 hours on the road, and no exits for Santa Barbara we surprisingly (according to GPS) arrived at our Santa Barbara hotel, only to realize we actually landed in the small town of Santa Ynez.....wine country. Santa Ynez is a small town off the freeway whose visitors consist mostly of middle-aged couples from Nebraska or elderly Europeans from town next door, Solvang, which is actually the largest Dutch town in Northern America. So, yea....not Santa Barbara. But when its time to get away, it doesn't matter where, as long as its out! That sounds like something that a housewife would have on her kitchen counter mini-calendar. I'm gonna have to break this adventure down into chapters....really small chapters that are actually glorfied paragraphs of something that I find blog-worthy. First and foremost....Lodging. 2 beds + 5 girls = 1 roll away.

"Why do you assume its you Michaela?" In response I slowly leaned to the left, glancing past my friends at everyone elses luggage which was already coincidentally placed on the beds. Call me old fashioned, but when we walk into a room wanting something, we b-line for it. I felt like I was surrounded by old people at a Costco sample table. Let me paint you a picture to better eplain my situation. By the time I'd have managed to fanagle my way to the mini-fold out sample table, the door of the small convection oven (on sale on aisle 13) would've already been closed by some gray haired woman in plastic gloves.... "20 minutes", she'd say looking at me, and though I'm hungry, 20 minutes is far too long a wait for a vegetable pot sticker....actually half a vegetable potsticker (lets be realistic).
"Why didnt you grab a bed michaela?"....and bascially ask someone for their vegetable potsticker half? My explanation being, because I didnt get one? Right ladies. That doesnt fly at Costco, and its not gonna fly in Santa Barbara, sorry Santa Ynez. However I neednt complain any further, for no roll away beds were involved. I awaited my rollaway destiny for nearly 45 minutes, only to be informed by the front desk that they were out. My friends Hayley, (best described as an administrative type cheerleader), and Nicole (best described as an intelligent, and shockingly witty Barbie doll), allowed me to sleep between them. It's funny when people offer you things they don't want, and disguise them as gifts....like old shirts, or left over food, however one mans trash is another mans treasure, and I have taken full responsibilty of bringing this saying to life. While lying between my two snoring bedmates I thought to myself "Maybe this is how families lived in Northern Ireland during the 1920's". Angela's Ashes came to mind quite clearly as the night hours crept by, leaving me squished and sheetless. Yep, I think that is the most accurate metaphor, aside from the whole poverty, and flies thing of course. We were definitely staying in the Marriot, I just had no sheets, and my friends butts were in my face.