At least once a day I have one of those ''I live here?'' moments, whether it's while driving to work over the Julia Tuttle Causeway, strolling down Lincoln Road on a random weekday night or meeting a friend for drinks at The Delano.

''That couple obviously on their honeymoon over there?'' I'll think. They have to go home eventually, and most likely to a place that gets cold and doesn't know how to make a good mojito.

Still, when I packed up my duffle bag, topped off the cat food bowl and drove five miles from my North Beach condo to the Winter Haven hotel on 14th Street and Ocean Drive on South Beach, I easily slipped into vacation mode, dramatically opening my room's sheer white curtains to take in the ocean view I see at least once a week, contemplating working out upon seeing the hotel's discounted gym pass offer -- at the gym I already belong to -- and giddily greeting my girlfriends, Aurora and Amy, in the lobby when they arrived, even though I had seen them the day before.

I work with them, after all. They too had trekked from afar -- Amy from the Kendall suburbs and Aurora all the way from Hollywood (Florida) -- and we were more than happy to transform into non-accidental tourists for 24 hours, video camera and all, for a girlfriend getaway to enjoy such non-menfolk activities as buffing/polishing body parts; exercise that involves posing like fish, trees and children; and drinking brightly hued beverages that end in 'tini.

Since we had all played tour guide to visiting friends and family at some point, we decided to skip the usual stops -- News Café; the mansion formerly known as Versace; and the overpriced, velvet-roped nightclubs -- and instead use our local status to keep it cheap and (relatively) off the beaten path.

LOCAL FLAVORS

A girl's gotta eat (a hungry girl is a mean girl), so first stop was brunch at Front Porch, located in the Penguin Hotel (a 30-second walk from the Winter Haven). The affordable café with primo people watching is where you'll find many-a bleary-eyed South Beacher spending a lazy late Sunday morning, so savvy beachgoers get there before 11 a.m. to avoid a line.

Over omelets, ice coffee and raisin pumpernickel toast, we chat about everything about what deodorant brand rocks (L'Occitane) to the frogs that like to watch Amy run on the treadmill in her garage. (``They just stand there in a line and stare!'').

Happily full and vowing never to eat again (don't worry, we will), we hopped on the local electric bus -- which, for a quarter, got us to our next destination right on time and an air-conditioned mini-tour of South Beach's north end to boot -- and headed to Lace Nail Lab for manicures and mimosas.

Every Sunday, the girlie-to-the-max (bubble-gum pink chairs and paint, accessories boutique, every fashion magazine known to woman) salon fills your glass with free bubbly and OJ while your feet and hands get the princess treatment. Lace is like the Cheers of nail salons, as über-sassy manager Karen greets us with a ''hey, honey!'' and keeps us entertained with her drama of the day: Some awful woman in an Audi had just hit her new car and wouldn't own up to it. Other girls trickle in, exchanging friendly good-to-see-you-agains and it's-been-too-longs with the staff.

Our nails various shades of pink, the girliness continued with a workout, South Beach style, of course. For $11, Winter Haven guests can purchase a day pass to Crunch gym, so we headed to their Washington Avenue location to try out their newest class, AntiGravity Yoga. Downward dog meets Cirque du Soleil during this aerial workout that incorporates silk ''hammocks'' and has you literally swinging from the rafters. Robin Retherford, a petite, peppy former dancer who announces at the beginning of the class that anyone who has recently had Botox shouldn't partake, and Carole Steinhauser, a totally zen Pilates wiz, guide the class through stretching and exercises that made me wonder if I'd been born without abdominal muscles.

The most challenging postures -- and most fun once we got the hang (no pun intended) of it -- were the inversions, for which we flipped upside down Spidey style. ''It's meant to take people out of their comfort zone,'' said Retherford, ''but what I love the most is seeing the smiles on their faces when they do something they never thought they could do.'' We all agreed, and despite knowing none of us would be able to walk the next day, vowed to try it again, and then B-lined it to the hotel for a nap.

A girlfriend getaway wouldn't be complete without a frou frou cocktail and dinner at a trendy restaurant. Table 8 filled that need, and we took advantage of their Miami Spice menu, which was offered during a sneak preview before reappearing in August and September. For $36, we dined on a three-course menu -- everything from goat cheese boucheron to vanilla panna cotta -- and splurged on a few of their signature cocktails, like the Basil 8, a perfect summer mixture of grapes, basil, lime juice and ginger ale. By the time we scraped the last crumbs off our dessert plates, it was after 10 p.m. -- time for Amy to return to Kendall and to real life, which includes a hubby and two-year-old.

NIGHT CAPS

Not quite ready to call it a night, Aurora and I headed to one of our favorite watering holes, Zeke's, where all beers -- everything from Miller High Life to Hoegaarden -- are three bucks (hey, a girl needs to kick off her stiletos and embrace her dive bar side at some point) Surprisingly, this local hangout is situated on Lincoln Road, making it an appealing alternative to the $16 martini-pushing lounges and a great place to watch the parade of eclectic characters, from the teacup pooch-toting divas to the teenage skateboarders out way past their bedtime.

After a couple beers, Aurora and I decided it was way past our own bedtime and strolled back to the hotel. The next day, the sun rising over the ocean would wake us up, we'd take advantage of the free hotel breakfast and return to the real world. Right up the street.

Jessica Sick is editor of Miami.com.

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