Which is exactly what my Saturday and Sunday consisted of.
Mon beaux et moi woke up early with the sun and started driving south with the roof down.
For the way we drank what the Spaniards call "Calimocho" red wine and coke to get in the mood for our fun trip.
We first stopped at Curry Hammock State Park. "The Real Florida," which is how the Florida State Parks called themselves not only is the real Florida, it is also Heaven.
A small beach few people and many birds as quiet as a cemetery and as peaceful as only the sound of the sea can be.
There was the Raptors Count going on. Volunteers, passionate birdwatchers, birders and naturalists unite in various parts of Florida every year to count the fliers that pass over us, sometimes only for a day, in their way to other destinies.
A record of 638 Peregrine Falcons was counted the other day, one of the counters commented.
They really were all over the place the raptors and the Ospreys flying miles and miles with their fish held tightly in their feet.
Next was Bahia Honda.
Although it had way to many Eastern European tourists, who spoke a weird language and we couldn't figure out where they came from, we found a space only ours in the white sand and swam in the turquoise waters.
The $3 per person to get into each of the parks are definetely worth it to avoid drunk SoBe dirty tourist with loud music.
On the way back we stopped to eat at The Wreck a bit before Key Largo and had Mahi Mahi, steamed clams and fried calamari with Coronas.
You don't have to drive the four hours to Key West to get to paradise, "The Real Florida" awaits you.
By Sunday it was time to go back to the jungle of cement, the desert of the surreal.
My friend Brooke Whitley, friends with every actor, symphony player and stage manager of this town, manged to get us free tickets for the Miami City Ballet performance, which was at the Arsht Center only for the weekend. Next weekend they will be at Ft. Lauderdale and after that at L.A.
It started with the second part of The Swan's Lake, then came The Four Temperaments and the Grand Finale was one called In The Upper Room, with music by God-Sent and my favorite composer Philip Glass. It was too much, a very exciting performance that almost gets you off your seat. Although not everyone can take 3 hours of ballet, we could and it was amazing! Thanks Nicole Mitchell, stage Manager and the voice that asks you to turn off your cellphone at the beginning of the show, for allowing us this experience that I otherwise I could have never afforded.
I needed to finish this spectacular weekend with a special touch.
Texted my new awesome neighbor Jeremy Mason to see what he was up to. He was reading Capote and we should grab a bite and a drink, he texted back.
I went to visit Jeremy's and Christ Funk's new cool apt. on Biscayne and 63rd. Already decorated and with a delightful balcony in which you can hear the blue jays sing on top of those tall old trees.
We went to dine at Andiamo's and passed by Publix on the way back to the apt to get some mixers.
At the register, ready to pay for the cranberry juice, tonic water and limes one of those very few GORGEOUS man says: "So, you are having a party and you didn't invite me."
I turn around and say you can come if you want.
He looks annoyed and keeps on talking to Jeremy. Obviously the GORGEOUS man wasn't interested in partying with me.
Outside bringing the things to the car, he stopped again and talks a bit more to Jeremy.
"What is supposed to be etiquette in the grocery store?" Jeremy asked. "He was so gorgeous he caught me off guard."