There's always Calgon.

I had a dream the other night in which salt and pepper came out of my salt shaker. Upon waking, I realized how desperately I'm in need of a vacation.

It doesn't have to be Scotland (someday!), or France ("Croissant with a side of snobbery, si vous plait) or even the Grand Canyon. I've just gotta get OUT.

Insert relevant Lauryn Hill song.

But where to go? Perhaps here...

(from Yahoo! Travel)

Big Sur, California

Iconic Route 1 extends almost the entire length of California, but our favorite stretch for road trips is through Big Sur, which comprises 90 or so miles along the central coast from San Simeon to Carmel. Big Sur’s beauty is not overrated: Sandwiched between the Santa Lucia mountains and the Pacific – redwood groves on one side and rocky beaches with sea lions on the other – it’s remarkably unspoiled, partly because the only access is via the two-lane Route 1, or Cabrillo Highway. Devote a long weekend, ideally in May or September for fewer crowds. Start out in San Jose, which has the closest major airport, and head south 74 miles on U.S. 101. Merge onto Route 156 and pick up Route 1, cruise through Monterey and Carmel, and then enter Big Sur proper. There are no big towns, only small clusters of roadside restaurants and stores, so fill the gas tank in advance. The road twists along precipitous cliffs and it can be a relief to stop for impromptu hiking, picnicking, or beachcombing (try Jade Cove for its namesake stone). A bohemian Eden in the 1960s, when Jack Kerouac and Henry Miller spent time here, Big Sur is an area where their free-spirit vibe still lingers.

Free-spirit vibe? Sounds good. Beachcombing? I'll bring a book. But maybe a weekend vacation is one of those things you should do but don't end up doing. Like taking multi-vitamins. Or wearing sunscreen. And flossing. I guess it's really about the kind of person you want to be: one who thinks of doing stuff, or one who does them.

That got philosophical fast.