I recently had to go to Palm Beach for a work trip.
It was torture. Pure and simple.
I had to stay at The Breakers.
I had to eat delicious food.
I had to sample enticing frosty beverages.
I had to sit at the pool (okay, I only got a few hours of this, admittingly).
I had to hang out with celebrity chefs, like Robert Irvine.
I had to teach the celebrity chefs to run diagonally if they saw an alligator, since gators can only run in a straight line. What? They were British and didn't know any better.
I had to show my new friend from Golf Digest (an NYC native) how to off-road in a golf cart. She was beyond impressed.
But you know what? After seeing how "the other half" lives/vacays... I missed my Alabama bubble. Peeps... I've never seen such excess. Excess everywhere - jewelry, clothes, little yappy dogs, body enhancements (ahem), and luxury brands galore.
I was a fish out of water, but I'm glad I was.
As I cruised over to my lounge chair in my Target bathing suit and Rainbow flip flops and flounced down to read my new book, I'm aware I stuck out like a sore thumb.
And not just because I was one of the only brunettes.
Did you know some people wear high heels to the pool?
It was a "People Watching" Event for the ages.
I missed you.
Let the record show: This is not me.
Private Rockettes show at the Winter Wonderland Party.
I know, right?