I know that it can be difficult to follow my train of thought sometimes. It's hard for me, too. Where would a blog post about escaping to Tonga come from? I don't even know where Tonga is (thanks to the interwebs, now I do...off the coast of Australia). Here's how it works.
1. Cold breezes here after 70 degrees...makes me long for tropical destinations.
2. Instead of that, I'll wedge myself into an airline seat to head for Minneapolis, a really nice place but not tropical. In any way. And I think I'm going to have to work when I get there. I mean...I could do that here, right? I want to lay on a beach with a book.
3. Definitely not winning at our work "Biggest Loser" competition. In fact, consoling myself with ice cream is only contributing to my increasing problem.
4. An AOL story about this article about how fat American tourists can feel comfortable in Tonga, the fattest nation on earth where size is viewed at a matter of wealth and status.
5. And it's warm there. The pictures have palm trees to prove it.
So...anybody want to go to Tonga with me? I'll wedge myself into another seat to get there.
I think we better go soon though. I think the weight=status thing used to work in Europe too. About 800 years ago. Tonga may be the last place on earth where my people fit and the clock is ticking!
UPDATE: I just checked the costs. To get there from the metropolis that is Little Rock...the trip would cost about $6,000 for a week. The only way for me to come up with $6,000 is to stop eating. And that would totally fix my increasing problem. And I could probably fit in on a beach a little closer to home. And that's an entirely new train of thought.
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