d out

Once upon a time, three girls flew to Vegas armed with kukui beads, shrugs, and some useful advice: Don't tell anyone your real name.

"Jordan", "Riley", and "Taylor"

4 years later the same three girls, joined by two more friends, traveled to Dallas. This time we were armed with better clothing but the same precious advice. We chose the name "Carol". All of us. We figured a name like Carol - generally associated with well, moms -- would deter any weird people (aka, guys on steroids wearing Ed Hardy) from talking to us. As you can see from the picture below, it didn't quite work, but the name stuck.

To account for how 5 girls named Carol were friends, we explained we had met at a national convention for people named Carol and thus, the Carol Convention was born.

How dare they misspell our fake name?

This article in Real Simple inspired us to designate one person each year to plan a surprise trip (the yearly Carol Convention) and to add two more Carols to our posse. The girls (ladies? women?) in the article are in their 30s and some even have kids, but every year each one puts in a certain amount of money and one person plans a surprise weekend, heightening the suspense with months of clues.

Well, this year's trip starts Thursday, and after our series of cryptic clues, we were convinced we were going to be playing putt putt on a cruise with mailmen. But, it turns out we're going to a tiny resort town in Florida for 4 glorious days. Since the thing that makes my blog remotely amusing are tales of Y and Ike, neither of whom are invited, I might not have any fun blogs from the trip. So, I'm putting the pressure on my hilarious friend Kathy to recap the weekend!