In the imaginary vacation that Lovey Loverpants and I own, we open up our imaginary doors every year to our friends and family for one imaginary week. The question of which friends and family are invited is not the important question. The important question is, rather, how long will each stay?

The people who are allowed to stay in our imaginary palacial bedrooms, to sleep on the imaginary beds with high-thread counts are laidback, good-humored individuals, people who may or may have a proclivity for Flavor-Ice addictions as Mr. Loverpants as I do. These friend/family folkien won't mind the announcement of a Magical Mystery Tour which may or may not lead to the shadiest imaginary burrito stand on the imaginary island. We invite people who would not roll their eyes at an optional Bible Study, nor start to tweek out in absence of a television set, because in our imaginary vacation house, the object of the game is to forget that televisions exist, and that TiVo rules the world. Our imaginary vacation house is a place to live splendidly, if for only one week, to dig one's feet into the imaginary sand that creeps over the imaginary back patio. To rise early or sleep in all spread out like a starfish on the bed, to eat so so many Tropical Starbursts that one really might just burst.

If this sounds appealing, registration is now open at our imaginary vacation home. Please fill out an imaginary application which can be found by clicking this imaginary link.

Based on a long weekend in Durham, NC with some fine, fine individuals, the admissions process may prove quite selective.

This gurl? Oh. She's in for the week.

ash