The contemplation of what activity clenches the jaws, contracts the abdominal muscles and furrows the brow of any woman of a certain age? Considering what action fills her brain with anxiety and her heart with trepidation? What thought incites a riot of classic avoidance behavior?
Buying a bathing suit.
My own avoidance behavior is such that my one bathing suit, purchased in 1995 in Kauai, bears the marks of several seams resewn and holes darned by my hand.
But I was heading off to California on vacation and had determined that the Vixen Divorcee deserved a fresher image. Too that end, on a rainy Saturday in early June I convinced my friend, Susie, that our time would be best spent shopping for beach wear.
By crossing the threshold of Nani Nalu Beachwear Boutique, we left behind the chilly, dreary midwestern day and plopped down in Aruba. Or Jamaica. Or Key Largo. Or anyplace with palm trees, exotic birds and bright colors.