Delayed Response.

Pretty much every time I get together with my girlfriends with whom I went to high school we discuss how we need to do it more often. Mostly we have a sporadic hour spanning several months at a holiday party, housewarming, or birthday dinner and it never seems to be enough. So we recently determined a weekend getaway was in order.

We decided a Vegas vacation would be the best way for us to reunite with the appropriate valor. Pool parties, late nights, and slot machines danced through our minds. Once we realized we couldn’t afford the flight we opted for a more accessible escape to South Beach. Cabanas, mojitos, and Boa constrictor clad street performers replaced previous daydreams of our impending trip. Upon the realization that we can’t afford drinks in Miami, we decided to nix the flight altogether.

After vetoing, the Hamptons, Atlantic City, the Jersey shore, Outer banks, Vermont, and the Catskills we opted for the ever popular “staycation” in CT. We picked berries, explored country stores, hiked up vistas, sampled cheese at miniature farmer’s markets, and then otherwise reverted back 8 years for a glorious weekend of awesomeness.

One perfect blend of high school hot spots and newly discovered attractions later, I can’t wait for the next get together. Although it would be fantastic to be in the financial state to afford a flight and a cocktail, this weekend proved the age old cliché, that it doesn’t matter where you are, but it is who one is with that matters most! Love you girls!

Dream Weaver.

My friends. It has happened. I have experienced the culinary ecstasy that is now deemed New York’s best lobster roll. It was every bit of gastronomic magic I could have imagined. The man behind the curtain wasn’t there to accept, but his precious team members were. And yes- I brought the muffins.

Although my introduction to this delectable little treasure inconveniently overlapped with my attempt to go on Atkins, I did somehow manage to sample the roll, bisque and chowder and I now know in my heart this is my new go-to spot for crustacean goodness. Walking inside Luke’s Lobster felt like walking into any number of shacks along the New England coast, but far cuter and friendlier. And not that I need to escape the UES, but what a lovely little beachy oasis. Can’ t wait to go back!

Renegade Clammer.

Since my introduction to the world as an unwieldy tot I have always followed the beat of my own drummer, never really coloring within the lines, or willing to follow rules meant to confine me. So, I might harbor a somewhat unreasonable distaste for authority figures. I have never enjoyed being told what to do and more often what not to do. For some nefarious reason something I am naturally excited to do on my own becomes contemptuous once I am ordered to do it.

I accept that it is completely unacceptable as a grown adult to feel threatened by people holding positions of power. I also accept that no one is perfect, so I am allowed this flaw. And as my father always says, “No one ever likes the police, until they need them.” Well I would like to add that "No one likes the shell fishing warden until he is finally nice to you.”

Clamming is a favorite activity of mine, however it is heavily regulated along the shores of Cape Cod, so I am subject to the shackles of authority each time I embark on a clamming excursion. Each time I show my license to the “warden” so he can ensure I am officially allowed to fish and each time I have to measure each shell to ensure the appropriate length and each time I must subject my bounty to a thorough assessment before I am released. I have a horrible memory seared into my mind about the time he made me put a scallop back since it was far before scallop season and ever since I have resented this stoic elderly fellow.

It wasn’t until he allowed my mother and I to bring our catch without his final check and told his partner that he should “let em go, these ladies are good” that I finally accepted him within my heart. That action and those words solidified our indestructible bond. So until I break another rule and inevitably get scolded, this one’s for you Clamming Warden! Thank you for entrusting me to a world of shellfish!