The quest for Marty Moose

I’m back from a three week break from work. I saw pretty hills in Îles de la Madeleine, spent not nearly enough time with my best friend Emmanuelle, and had my own Sideways-type holiday with my boyfriend.

I have one regret: I looked forward too intensely to my 3 week leave-with-pay.

I guess what I am saying is that pre-vacation excitement need not be any more than the thrill of not making any reservations, any plans. Just book a flight. That’s excitement, my friends. Can you do it? Can you deal with that much irresponsibility? I certainly couldn't and planned my ass off before going away. How many packing and to-do list can one compile without becoming eighteen kinds of crazy?

Forced impromptu breaks can be a blessing. I find that the best vacations are the ones we truly have no choice but to let go, entirely, of everything, and suddenly: schedule, plans, alarm clock. Like getting a bad cold, or fired. Or leaving for nowhere in particular with very few possessions.

Not that i'm trying to idealize zen-buddhists. I would never want to be one of those meditation-and-chanting sort of people who found inner-peace by doing time at a monk retreat, kumbaya and all. However intensely you found inner peace, there will always be some douche in your life driving you up the wall. People need to vent. We are just as neurotic while on vacation/retreat as we are in “real life”. It's a consolation for me.

I leave you with my favourite quote from Clark W. Griswold in National Lampoon’s Vacation:

I think you're all fucked in the head. We're ten hours from the fucking fun park, and you wanna bail out! Well, I'll tell you something, this is no longer a vacation . . . it's a quest! It's a quest for fun! I'm gonna have fun, and you're gonna have fun! We're all gonna have so much fucking fun we'll need plastic surgery to remove our Goddamn smiles! You'll be whistling Zip-a-dee-doo-da out of your assholes! I've got to be crazy! I'm on a pilgrimage to see a moose! Praise Marty Moose!