I will post some trip highlights later and my fashion finds on Fashionosophy:Moda Mania. In the interim: Juli B Beauty Picks for April.

Okay, some of you may be wondering about the whole Vacation/Griswold theme. Typically our family vacays have been characterized by at least one of the following: hotel booked for wrong week, lost luggage, missed flights, dad sticking foot in mouth and offending a local, me not taking my meds and being a general bitch, dad peeing in public while sober.

But the past two family trips have been seamless, perhaps because I planned them. I was a travel editor in a former life, so I do have some expertise in this area.

For my 30th birthday last year, I planned our hotel and travel arrangements for a week in Bermuda. Aside from the minor incident where I stayed out all-night with a bunch of rowdy Canadians and mom took it upon herself to call in the Bermudan police, all was well.

For Italy, my parents relied on my expertise again, due to my knowledge of the area, the fact that I have more time than them and because they'd only been to Italy for cruise pitstops, while I've spent a great deal of time there.

And I have to say that all went well. Our driver/guide, Rino, a 34-year-old Italian Buddhist from Sorrento, was great; our hotels were amazing; our food was fabulous; the shopping was good; the weather was good and a fab time was had by all.

Though dad did have a consistently Griswoldian experience at every single hotel that was quite amusing and could have been prevented had he been just a wee bit more patient.

I had thought that Positano would be my favorite place; from what I'd read and heard, it was a glorious town and area. Originally, I did want to stay at Le Sirenuse, as Mel questioned, but we opted for the magnificent Il San Pietro instead, where every standard room has a balcony and sea view. Not so at Sirenuse. Plus San Pietro is about five minutes outside the very touristy center of the town of Positano and higher up the cliff with outstanding views. Rino also informed me that he'd driven Robert DeNiro there, but that Clint Eastwood—much friendlier than DeNiro—was deposited at someone's very nice yacht docked on the coast.

Anyhoo, enter the Griswoldian beginnings. We arrive on our first day at San Pietro, and the concierge proceeds to show us to both of our rooms. The first room she shows us is great, with a nice view and tasteful decor. The next room has a larger balcony.

Immediately Clark, I mean, Mark, says, "We'll take this one!"

Michael and I get back to our room and I look at the bathroom, which is nearly as big as the room. I call mom to see if she's looked in the bathroom yet, she says no and then I proceed to describe ours to her. "Damn!" she says. Or in mom parlance, probably something more along the lines of, "Darn it all."

Check out our bathroom:



I'll continue the saga tomorrow; now it's time for some fashion updates.