Why I’m Giving Up, Gaining 5lbs, and Drinking More Tequila


Let me start by setting scene: It was mid-morning in Cabo San Lucas…Margarita O’Clock to be exact. The sun was hot and the breakfast margaritas were stiff. I had just basted myself in tanning oil and settled into my lounge chair to take the perfect bikini selfie. With my gut sucked in and my iPhone at a 97 degree angle, I tried my damnedest to get the perfect shot. It was only a matter of time before the day two vacation bloat would set in and I would be limited to sunset photos and candid shots of my husband looking “vacation fun”.

That’s when I saw her. A grey-haired vision of fabulousness, no doubt sent from above with an important message for me. Her wrinkled-to-perfection skin glistened beneath her sleeveless cover up. She had nothing to cover up- she looked good, and she knew it. Her visor was adorned with sequins, as were her beach bag and sandals. She drank margaritas…which I assumed were skinny girl margs- because after all, we were soul sisters. I stared from afar, in awe of how relaxed she looked. Shortly there after, we bumped into one another by the ladies room (when I saw “bumped”, please know that it was not by chance or accident). Having already had one too many margs, I stopped her to tell her how infatuated I was with her visor and overall marvelousness. We talked briefly (as I was bordering on stalker-status), but in those few moments it all became very clear…

Here I was, day 3 of starvation with my spray tanned abs and stress-induced heartburn from checking my e-mail while on “vacation”. I had been ignoring my husband for the past five minutes, while trying to take the perfect insta-worthy picture of my cocktail, and I was wearing one of the 15 new outfits I had purchased just for this vacation. I was on vacation, but my need for perfection was still working overtime. Granny Dani (as we’ll lovingly refer to her from here on out) was on a real vacation. She was pale, and probably ate chorizo and eggs before slipping into that bathing suit. She too was ignoring her husband, but after 55 years together she had far better reason to. She drank fruity cocktails without counting calories, and drifted in and out of sleep beneath the shade of her sequins visor- not a care in the world. She had laugh lines, and cellulite, and she was pretty F-ing happy!

I want to be Granny Dani…but not when I’m 75. I want to be Granny Dani today. I’m giving up on perfection (though I’ll still strive for “excellence”). I’m spending the summer drinking fruity cocktails with reckless abandon and I may even be nice to my husband. And while I still refuse to be pale or wrinkled, I trust that I will get there someday. And I trust that I’ll be happy when I do.

Thank you Granny Dani for the lessons learned. And thank you for doing your part to remind people that sequins and visors will never go out of style.

Peace, Love, Properties

-“Create Luck”