My husband brought home a New Orleans visitor's guide book and left it on the pillow. That was my cue. The next day I quizzed my coworkers about places they had stayed in New Orleans, as many of them have been there. That night my love and I talked about the pro and cons of different dates, and settled on an upcoming weekend with a couple of vacation days tacked onto both sides of it. By the end of the next day, I had booked a hotel in the French Quarter and investigated flight details. I didn't book the flight, because just that week a travel writer had told me to always book flights between five and seven in the morning, because that's when airlines release cancelled bookings, and you can get those seats at cheaper prices. I wanted to try it out. So on Saturday morning, just as the light began to ease into the sky, I lay under the covers in the glow of my iPod Touch, prodding my still-groggy husband for agreement as I sleepily selected and booked the flights. The prices were the same as the day before; so much for that tip. But now we two are walking around with delicious anticipation of our upcoming trip, relishing the thought of slipping away from the city for some good food, good music and good revelry in celebration of our twenty-fifth anniversary in August. Everything feels downright cheerful to me right now. Maybe the secret is to plan regular little escapes like this together. This is my new plan.