Not quite what they meant by "Sideways"

So, where to begin? It was quite the weekend. Almost perfect. But you know what happens when I say things are perfect.

Thursday was a glorious day. I took off from work and had until mid-afternoon to clean the apartment, do my laundry, and basically relax until picking Kristin up from the airport at 3:00. I've seen Kris fairly often since the move but this weekend would be the most time we've spent together since she visited over Memorial Day, and I was so looking forward to the chance to really catch up. Her flight landed on time, and we spent the afternoon primping and the evening dining before picking up our other friend Heather from LAX. Like Kris, I've seen Heather a number of times this year but this weekend was to be a long-overdue and welcome chance to really catch up. I've been friends with both girls for about 10 years now - first as lowly freshman, then as fellow sorority sisters, and ultimately as comrades on the mean streets of NYC.

Heather arrived on time as well, and because their internal clocks were still set to EST, we all went to bed early. And why not? It was like Christmas Eve - the sooner we go to sleep, the sooner we can wake up and the real fun begins!

The real fun did begin early the next morning, as we all had spa appointments at 10 AM. It was another gorgeous day, and we rode with the sun roof open to Kinara. I guess I've come to take the weather for granted (just a little bit, I swear!) because I thought it was quaint how often Kris would comment on how wonderful it was. It is wonderful. I was surprised at how jaded and expectant of it I've seemingly already become. Shame on me. We ate lunch at the spa's outdoor cafe, and then came back, packed up the car, and set off on our road trip.

I haven't gone on a road trip in years - at least not one where I'm the driver. I kept thinking that it felt like going to a fraternity formal - minus our dates. We were headed up to Santa Ynez, which is 130 miles north of Los Angeles and about 25 miles north of Santa Barbara. With no traffic, the ride should only take about 2 hours, and because we left early enough, it actually did. For once, though, I might not have minded some traffic, as the scenery was so beautiful and legitimately breathtaking, a traffic jam might have allowed me just enough time to snap some pictures out the sun roof.

The first half hour was standard freeway through the valley and up into the Santa Monica Mountains; then, we turned a corner and the road opened up, exposing a radiant blue ocean to the left and lush green peaks and valleys to the right. I've never seen anything like it. Sure, I've seen mountains, and I've seen oceans, and since moving to LA I've even seen them in the same view; but never for so long, teasing, tempting us with their rare, smog-free beauty. The open road rolled along just like that for nearly the remainder of the ride, until finally we closed in on the inland valley that was to provide for us for the next two days and nights. We pulled up to the Marriott, checked into our suite (yes, suite - sometimes I pretend I'm a rock star) and pulled out the map to see how many wineries we could hit before sundown.

To be continued...