Recently I signed with a literary agent. Yeah that's right, I'm fancy now. I have "people." They asked me to write up a bio. Usually I hate to write any type of self gloating propaganda but somehow I managed. It's for their internal use, but I figured I'd share with you lovely people some of the top secret insider info that will be circulating H-wood... all about ME!

Colleen Evanson grew up on an exotic island known for its accents - Long Island. In high school she was chosen to represent her school by performing an original monologue on the Broadways stages of Rent. She attended Ithaca College's Park School of Communications studying TV production where she was heavily involved in the student run television station creating/producing a mock entertainment news show by sophomore year. Her junior and senior year she produced an hour long documentary entitled Strongest Ever (about the strongest woman in the world). The trailer was chosen as Best of Student Work in 2006 and the 60 min version won audience awards at film festivals and sold to Electric Sky who aired it throughout Europe. Clips also aired on an E! Entertainment special about bodybuilding. While studying in LA she interned at The West Wing in producer Michael Hissrich's office and then the Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip pilot with producer Mindy Kanaski, where she was later hired to run base camp/stalk Matthew Perry.

Realizing production life wasn’t the bee’s knees, she got an office job working assisting independent producer Matt Baer with feature development. When the strike hit she took a strike proof job at Blue Collar Productions, a DVD/Special Features production company run by former Dreamworks employee Mark Rowen. Within six months of assisting him she was producing TV spots for the DVD Campaigns for Kung Fu Panda, Madagascar 2, and Monsters vs Aliens. After 2.5 years she jumped back to TV assisting the lovely Paul Stupin and Holly Sorensen on ABC Family's Make It Or Break It where she is currently the writer's assistant, typin’ out notes like no other. Despite having more work experience in the drama world, her heart truly belongs to comedy. She was in an improv troupe in college, and has taken several classes through the Upright Citizen's Brigade Theatre including: Improv 101 and Sketch Writing 101. Other interests include: soccer, kung fu, not wearing heels, becoming a Jedi Knight, and befriending Betty White.

Can I stop talking in third person now? OK, great.

Do you have a sudden urge to staff me as a writer on your television show? I hope so.

Like so many others with hopes of finding a diamond in the rough have done, I too signed myself up for Groupons. If you are unfamiliar with the term, you probably don't use a computer a lot or check your email every day. That being said, it's a coupon deal that gets sent to a group of people. Basically it sends me deals every day aka gets my hopes up when my email says I have new messages in the AM and turns out it's just from an email chain...

Every week I think of unsubscribing until I have get a deal that makes me think of buying it. Like 60% off cupcakes. I mean yes, I'd like to eat cupcakes, who doesn't? Do I really want to eat a dozen cupcakes? I know I'm capable BUT I'm also very capable of getting diabetes. And even with 60% off, that's still like 20 bucks, I can just spend 3 bucks for one and not feel like a huge fatty. So no, Groupon, I'll pass.

Then there are other times I get deals that are so ridiculous I had no idea such things existed. Today for example, I got a Groupon for:


The screen grab is a bit fuzzy but it's for some white suburban we have too much money BS thing called: Stroller Strides. It reads:

"Having a baby often limits parents' ability to take part in the hobbies they once loved, such as working out or sleeping in empty bassinets. Set aside some you time with today's Groupon: for $35, you get one month of unlimited mom-and-baby fitness classes and waived registration fees."

Instead of paying $125 to do lunges on your baby's stroller, you only pay $35! What a steal! Like any good infomercial that comes on at 2am and tempts me (Magic Bullet), I think maybe I'll buy it and show up expecting them to supply me with a baby.

Don't forget to stretch...

I recently decided that if I happen upon a magic lamp at any point in my life (hopefully the near future) and rubbed it to discover much like Aladdin (my all time fave Disney movie) that there was a genie inside who granted me three wishes, my answer would be:

1. I wish to become a Jedi, including power, robes, and REAL lightsaber - none of that Spencer's Gift stuff that runs you a 100 bucks.

2. I wish you to be free - I've seen enough stories about magic lamps to know they want to be free and will be so grateful for the freedom and in turn slip me more wishes done as more of a favor. After all they are indebted to me. Either that or freeing them gives me a crazy high amount of Good Karma points, which are always good to have.

3. Nothing else.

I'm assuming once I'm a Jedi I'd look a little something like this:

Currently I'm working on a Television Studio lot in Studio City known as "CBS Radford." This is amazing for several reasons.

1. I am working again.
2. It's 2 miles from my apartment so I bike to work.
3. It's also where they shoot "Hot in Cleveland" starring Betty White.

That's right people. Now, I don't watch the show because I tried once and it sucked except for when Betty White was on, but even then she didn't have much to work with. However, they shoot the show every Friday night according to the security guys. It is my plan in the next few weeks to befriend Betty.

How will I do this, you ask? It's simple. First I will find where they shoot: CHECK. Then I'll find her dressing room: DONE AND DONE. Then I'll have one of my friends "mug" Betty and I'll show up and save her:

Me: "Hey You! Quit man handling Betty White!"
Insert awkward karate chop, the "mugger" falls to the floor.

Betty: "OMG. thank you so much!"
Me: "For being a friend?"
Betty: "Traveling down the road AND back again."
Me: "My heart is true. I'm a pal and a confidant."

Then we high five jump into a freeze frame.
End Credits

I don't see how this plan could go wrong.

Dear Mother Nature,

I know it's been awhile since I last wrote and as much as I don't want this to sound passive aggressive - could you maybe stop letting whatever blooms from like 10pm til midnight in the general LA area bloom? I know it's kinda vague but whatever it is that started to bloom like 2 weeks ago is killing me. I literally cannot breath at that time of night and it's not just outside my apartment, it spans all over from east LA to the west side.

You know I love you, I mean, I ride my bike to work. AND I take the trash out of the Green Bin that even states on it that it's NOT a trash can but my neighbors just can't seem to grasp that concept. So could you do me a solid? I'd really appreciate it, especially since I have to rely on this nasal spray in order to breathe at night and who knows what chemicals in there will give me cancer down the road. Because it claims it's "no drip" but let's be honest, there is some drip and the taste is not great. That might be TMI for you but I just want you to be aware of the gravity of the situation.

In summary, I like you but this is just too much right now.

Love,
Colleen

PS - Did you watch the Breaking Bad finale?! We gotta talk about it.

It was a delightful lazy Sunday. Colleen was enjoying the last day of her first weekend in many many months. She took the time to relax around her apartment which occupied far too much of her time while unemployed. But on this day, she breathed in and was troubled not by what she'd do in the coming months of her life, for she had a job. A job, I say.

But hark? What's this?
SQUEAK. SQUEAK. HONK. HONK-ITY-SUCK-SCREECH!

The horrid sounds of a saxophone at an amateur's hand. Intially she imagined a child trying as he might to get the sheet music just right for his lesson in school come Monday morning. The thought had an air of nostalgia that made this noise crime forgivable.

Yet some two hours later she began to imagine a different scene. One in which she called out, "Hey, Neighbor kid!" ANd the screeching would stop. A little boy would point to himself as if to say, "me?"

She'd then reply, "Yeah, you."
He bounds over to the window. The boy would eagerly await the message. Perhaps a word of encouragement..?!

"YOU SUCK!" Colleen shouts in such a way it feels cathartic. Man that felt good to get out.

The boy would hang his head in shame. And in that moment Colleen would enjoy the peace once more of her first true lazy Sunday.
And it was glorious.

So, um...

... Why?

This weekend is kind of a big deal for me. As some may have heard, the TV show I work on is finally coming back - after a 7.5 month hiatus. And I have a new position this season. (I went from showrunner assistant to writer assistant: BOO-YA).

Today I realized that this will be my first REAL weekend since I start work on Monday. Not that I really slept in too late and I didn't today because I had a Kung Fu lesson at 8am. Yeah, you heard me. Though at this point, I doubt anyone is surprised. This is what happens when I read a book in the park. Some Shifu (aka Kung Fu master) comes up and asks if I want to learn Kung Fu.

Shrug. "Yeah, ok."
Best part is, his name is Mr. Smith, like Agent Smith from The Matrix where Keanu famously realizes, "Woah. I know Kung Fu."

Moving on - Now I'm very happy to be back to work, I miss the feeling of doing things and not watching Hulu in the middle of the day. Sidenote: I would often judge the productivity of my days by the amount of things I watched online. But let's be honest, plenty of working people do that anyway.

But this last week was tricky. I needed to get done all the things I SAID I'd do and WANTED to do but never did in my one-million days off. Like skydiving or using that massage coupon I found or going to Ireland. Damn! So now it's boiled down to mostly errands. And when else will I have the chance to grocery shop in the afternoon? (Isn't my life super exciting?!) Yet on the other hand it's my LAST free Friday. I should relax, drink wine, try that free sample of cheese from Whole Foods (I wasn't kidding about the grocery store).

I have a feeling that come Sunday night I will have a hard time going to sleep. Mostly out of excitement but also out of knowing that when I wake up on Monday, things won't be the same. Ever again.

That is... IF I wake up...

FADE TO BLACK

"TO BE CONTINUED..."

Last weekend my roomie-bestie Merry and I went on a hike. Once upon a time when I first moved to LA I was a part of a group that went every Sunday. It was sort of networky-ish in that everyone who was in the group worked in the entertainment industry. There was a core 4-5 of us who went all the time and then we got lazy and I started to go to Farmers Markets instead. We also expanded the group and here and there people would show up who were kind of annoying and messed up our conversation flow we were used to effortlessly having. I know that sounds kind of mean but it's true. Truth hurts, people!

So when Merry told me about people she knew starting up another hiking group I was down to get my hike on once again. The one slight hiccup is that sometimes these "others" will party late and be hung over so come Sunday the 9am hike becomes more like 10:30am or 11am. There's also a geography issue since most of them don't live with Merry and I in the valley. "Let me get this straight, I have DRIVE to Santa Monica? Ugh, it's so far..."

Whining aside, sometimes Merry and I employ the KISS system (Keep It Simple Stupid) and just do a hike that is about 3 miles away from our apartment. This is exactly what we did last Sunday.

So we roll up, I got my camelback, she's got her bottle of water. We set off to concur Fryman. Last time the two of us were there we decided to make it interesting and count the number of people we lapped while hiking - totally unbeknownst to them. Negative points if you yourself get lapped. The beginning of the hike is mostly uphill so it's a tough start. Regardless, last trip we SMOKED 22 suckers!

This time we were determined to beat the record. So we set off at a brisk pace. Mostly everyone is heading downhill so they are passing us on the opposite side - doesn't effect our score but annoying when they are running down a hill and you are walking up a hill, breathing heavy.

Finally we spot our first couple of people to pass. We speed up a bit in the anticipation. And there's an easy first 2 on the board. We pass another couple. 4: booyah! Then there's a fat dude who was faster than anticipated, he's probably trying to get back in shape so good for him but we're still going to kick his ass. And we're at 5.

But it's then, behind us, I hear some clanking, like a water bottle on a keyring. I glance behind. There's some skinny chick, around 30, in a DRESS of all things, coming up the rear. Immediately I turn to Merry and say, "We are not going to be passed by some chick in a dress." She concurs. We take it up a notch to keep our lead. But she's keeping up, even getting closer. WTF?!

Then she stops to fix her hair. We keep going. Talking some smack along the lines of, "Yeah that's right." and "Not in my house!" Merry and I settle into a nice pace. We chit chat here and there, pass more people. We get up to around 12 or so when --

CLANK, CLANK. I hear it again. I took behind me and NO WAY. Here she comes again. We speed up. We're going pretty fast now, like Mall Walker speed. We're heading downhill for a patch and there's come confusion as people pass us going the other way as we pass people going our way to add to our total. It's here she strikes.

Freaking Dress PASSES US. As she does I have a full view of her exposed back and can't help but notice she's not even wearing a bra. This is unacceptable to me. I'm NOT going to be out hike-walked by some skinny ho who can't be bothered to wear any appropriate hiking attire.

Merry and I pick up our pace but we can't seem to catch her. We blame the fact that she's so damn skinny, her lack of body fat is making her aerodynamic. For sure, that's DEFINITELY what it is. And a clear violation of our made up rules. We take comfort that if put in a cage match, we'd kick her ass fo' sho.

As she gets farther away we grumble less and eventually let it go. But the cut is fresh and we sure as hell won't let anyone else pass us. We're booking now. We reach 22 in record time. Still with some hike left we haul ass and at times are full on speed walking, sweating like crazy and out of breath - so much for a nice casual hike.

We get to the end of the dirt trail and pass our last person bringing the count up to 30. We decide to just head back to the car instead of doing another part of the hike, partly because we're tired from doing 3 mile hike in what felt like 20 mins.

The rest of the hike is all downhill through a residential neighborhood. We pass 7 more people when we spot her. Freaking Dress. There she is, in our sights. We just broke our record but this would be the icing on the cake.

We try for it. We get about 50 yards but she disappears again around a corner. So instead we fantasize about throwing a rock at her which hits her in the head, thus causing her to face plant onto the concrete street. As we pass we make a mocking frowny face and say "Ough" as in "Aw that must hurt.." We don't offer help and we add her to our pass tally.

It's here I'd like to state we are not mean people in general. We are quite delightful. What can I say, competition fuels us. In a way, Dress was a great motivator for us that day. But we'd never admit that. I mean, after all, she is now our sworn enemy... arch nemesis, even.

Last month one of my best friends from New York moved to LA. Naturally we decided to move in together. In this move I gained a third roommate of her chihuahua-pug mix of a dog named Rufus.


He's adorable in his own quirky way; notice the under bite. It should be known, I have no beef with dogs. In fact, I grew up around them; from mutts to goldens.

Now my human roommate, Merry, is a teacher (much like 80% of my high school friends) and gets up early. She's out of the apartment by 7:15am-ish everyday. And myself, being the still unemployed person I am, gets up later, though I make sure to be out of bed by 9am to maintain some shred of self respect... even if I don't bother to get dressed til noon.

In the morning Merry let's Rufus out in our back patio area to do his business. Recently, I noticed that around noon he'd want to go out again. Being home I didn't mind. But knowing that at some point I won't be around to let him out in the middle of the day I asked Merry if Rufus would be ok. She said he acclimates to our schedules and would be fine. She's had him for five years and he's never once made a mess inside. I mostly felt bad that he'd have to hold going to the bathroom for like four hours. I've been on car rides where I've held it for an hour and thought I would explode.

Two days after having this conversation it was Rufus' fifth birthday. Merry got up as per usual before me and left. I woke up around 8:30am and headed downstairs into the living room area like I usually do. Only that day, Rufus decided to celebrate by decorating the living room...

... with his poop.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, for the second time I have had the honor of dealing with my roommates pet pooping in my space and having the privilege of cleaning it up. Thankfully the living room has hardwood floors. But it did bring flashbacks to my old roommate's cat Onyx pooping in my bathtub. Awesome.

To me, the best part is, he went out around 7am, and then couldn't wait til I came down around 9am to let him out again? Merry thinks he did it out of spite because she forgot to wish him a happy birthday. And if that's the case, can you really blame him?

Recently I moved and when I did I left a fully furnished apartment. After getting a bed frame off craigslist, the air mattress I was using didn't exactly hold the air like I'd like it to. And it's kind of weird to sleep in the pull out bed downstairs for the long term. As such it was time for me, at the noble age of 27, to pony up and buy a big girl bed. Naturally I looked up places on Yelp and found a few not far from me.

There were a ton of places along this one strip. One place in particular was advertising that they were going out of business. Being the cheapskate I am, of course I went here. The best part was the signs placed everywhere on all the merchandise. Please observe:

Wait, I'm confused. This mattress is NOT 50% off? Do I have to double the price listed or cut it in half? This is too much math! Now I know you are going out of business so good job on that part of the ticket but why is there a "NOT" pre printed? And NOT (get it?) to tell you your business but just because you are going out of business doesn't mean you shouldn't still try. Get some white out on that ish!

But it doesn't end there. You see there were plenty of others to choose from. This one seemed like it could work but upon reading the sign I had to check if it was opposite day. It wasn't.

Let's be honest, I really don't want to be dealing with an angry/mean mattress. It's just not worth the savings. Yet I believe this one was my favorite because it doesn't work either way.

You: "Nice mattress."
Me: Thanks, I got the "yikes" special. And at 238, it was a steal!

Last week I babysat for a friend who has 2 young kids. I really don't know how people do it. It was exhausting. All I did was play ref and keep them distracted from getting into a fight with each other over who could play with the toy truck and/or convincing one to not get mad at the other for looking at them.

Oy.

They are super adorable though so all is forgiven when they play nice. The five year old little boy asked me the following three questions throughout the 5 hours I was there.

1. "Are you pregnant?"
He thought my stomach stuck out a bit and couldn't understand why. It's called being a woman. And also fro-yo. Hey, I'm only human after all.

2. "Can you take a bath with me?"
Whatever gets him in the tub... I didn't actually join him, but I did get pretty soaked to where I might as well have. Especially when he wanted to fill the tub to the brim - you know, like a fountain.

3. "Can you sleep over?"
This is the second time he's asked me to do so. What can I say? I'm charming and in demand. His mom did mention that usually all these questions go in the reverse order. I tend to agree.

Yesterday I took my roommate's dog for a walk in the mid morning. As I headed back to my new apartment Rufus (a pug) and I passed an older black gentleman who casually comments to me:

"You got a nice figure."

I scrunched my face up in a confused and yet amused smile. Why is it always the older men who feel the need to tell me these things? And how stereotypical of him as a black man. You can be President now! Keep that ish to yourself.

Also - thanks, I've been working out.

My family loves watching blockbusters that paint America as the best thing since sliced bread, not because we are patriotic (we're from a blue state aka NOT the "real America" so we don't count) but because they are ridiculous over the top. For example, Independence Day or Armageddon - seriously the next time it's on see how many times Bruce Willis delivers a line of dialogue while in front of an American flag.

One of our all time favorites for awhile was Air Force One. It was on so I watched it with both nostalgia and snarkiness in my heart. Please enjoy a taste of what you'd get in an Evanson household:

House sitting is kind of amazing. Basically I'm getting paid to mooch off someone else's house, food, and cable. Thank you for having my back, Universe. My bank account thanks you.

Now while in this lovely house in Griffith Park (feel free to come visit) there's cable which I don't usually have. See there is this thing called the "interwebs" and if you have that, there's really no point to having cable when there's Hulu and other "illegal" sites.

So this morning I'm flipping through the channels when I find "I Shouldn't Be Alive" on Animal Planet. They take these amazing survival stories from people who get stuck somewhere in the outdoors like mountains, deserts, and what nots. It's usually a fun trip gone horribly wrong and in the end someone dies or loses a limb. FUN! They re-create it, you know, "Unsolved Mystery" style, sans the amazing narration of Robert Stack (RIP).

The one I watched today was about this lone hiker and his dog in New Zealand. Homeboy goes for a stress relieving walk, slips, then proceeds to slide down the mountainside and off a cliff. He survives but busts his wrist, dislocates his ankle, and has a huge gash in his thigh. Check Minus overall.

Now the really amusing thing is hearing the unseen narrator continue to talk about how difficult it is for the guy to "pitch a tent." They said it so many times, someone in standards and practices wasn't doing their job. You see, the phrase is also used to describe a dude getting an erection.


At one point I though it was really starting to get out of hand when the narrator said, "It will take all his strength to pitch a tent."


... That's what she said.

"So what do you do?"
ME: "I work for the state of California."
"Like in government?"
ME: "Uh. yeah."

Unemployment - or shall I say FUNemployment has treated me well. Many a time I have posted pictures of me out in the middle of the day doing things that annoy my friends. I've been a very busy bee despite avoiding punching in and out everyday. You don't make much on unemployment but that means you just don't spend as much.

How do you do this in a capitalist consumer culture? Here are a few tips that have served me well.

1. Save those gift cards. If you know you won't be working at some point, hold off on using gift cards when you are making money. Plan ahead, yo.
Example: At Christmas I got an H&M gift card. It's now July and I still haven't used it. Not because I don't love H&M (cause I do), but because I'm assessing what summer time clothes I'll be needing (more shorts!). And let's be honest, when you don't have to get dressed to go to work, sometimes, you straight up DON'T get dressed.



2. Visit Family. My aunt never fails to cook way too much food and I am more than happen to take home a care package that she is more than willing to give me. Lucky for me I have some family in destination locations (Baja Mexico, San Fran) so I took the time to actually buy those cheaper plane tickets for the mid week and stay fo' free. Can you say, "mooch?" I can.



3. Go to any type of party; birthday, anniversary, engagment, bat mitzvah...
Save that meal, eat someone else's spread. Living in LA means there are usally healthy options at parties and a bunch of skinny bitches who won't eat at all meaning... more leftovers. So eat, drink, and be merry - for at the end of the party the host will probs ask if you'll take something home. Don't get trigger happy. Play it cool. "Sure, if no one else wants it. I mean, I don't want it to go to waste..."



4. Go on dates. Hopefully ones with better plot lines than the above movie (sorry, Tina!) This works more for da ladies. I've been dating and no, I have not paid though I do offer, but let's be honest, the men pay. Sometimes you get a movie AND a meal. What?! Bonus if you actually enjoy the company... (How jaded/bitter did that make me seem?)


5. Lunches with working friends. You know that friend who can expense everything? Yeah, that's the one you want to meet up with. Bring your money, expecting to pay and then act surprised when they say they got it, or rather, the company's got it. Gracefully accept.
Also - working on a TV show there is no shortage of food everywhere. So I MAY have strategically went back up to the old offices to get some more almonds, cereal bars, apples/bananas, and trail mixes once I was out of the stuff I took when they closed our offices. "Hey old co-workers? Oh, it's lunch time? Sure I guess I'll join..."



6. Pay it forward. I went out to eat with a bunch of friends who then happily paid for my meal. When I tried to wave them off they said I bought them dinner when they weren't working so they are paying me back. Yeah good deeds! So once I get back on the working wagon, I'm paying, but it always comes back.

And that's how I roll.

So I have been unemployed for far too long. I didn't get laid off or fired. It's just what happens when you work on a TV show. There is downtime between seasons called a hiatus. Mine was supposed to be for 2 months. It has lasted 5 - and then some. It's really dangerous to not be working for this long. Not because it may look bad on a resume, but because you get so used to NOT working the idea of going back to work is lame. Suddenly my workaholic mentality can understand the gold diggers. "You know, I'd like to go back to work and I know I will BUT if I found a rich dude... Maybe I don't HAVE to chase after that dream of running my own show."

I even had that moment of, "I think I'll join the Peace Corps."


Yeah, that happened. I even went so far as to go to an info session. Only me and five others in the entire LA area thought it was a good idea. Turns out I'm not even qualified for that. This is what happens with you get a BS in TV production. Tell me people in Africa wouldn't love to have their own talk show... No? They'd rather read? Fine.

"But surely if you are passionate enough you can write a good essay about why you should be considered," you say in order to make me feel like I have some discernible skills. Yeah sure, but then I also need a recommendation letter from my volunteer supervisor who doesn't exist. Dammit! Why are doing good deeds across the world so hard!

Basically my humanitarian pull to help people has been reduced to signing up for Habitat for Humanity newsletters. Occasionally they happen in my area but most of the time I'm all, "Long Beach? Ugh, that's too far..." So I donated some clothes to Goodwill. Totally the same. I'd like to volunteer at a soup kitchen but my google search has been unsuccessful as of yet. There simply aren't enough poor people in LA who are conveniently located by me. Surely it can't be THIS hard to give back?! Though for the record, I did give a guy hanging out by the highway exit ramp a bag of leftover bread rolls from a family dinner.

You see, as Oprah would say, the universe has provided for me in my time of need. And I just want to give back. Or at least that's what I think she would say, I have never actually watched a full episode of Oprah even despite my many many days not working. But people keep asking me, "how are you alive?" Like it's some big mystery. The answer is, it's pretty simple. I don't spend money I don't have.

Tomorrow I shall begin to lay out my tips on HOW TO SURVIVE ON UNEMPLOYMENT. I encourage you all to enjoy some down time and sneak attack mooch as much as you possibly can - with class.

SORRY I SUCK AND IT TOOK ME WAAAAAAY TOO LONG TO FINISH THE ADVENTURE.


DAY 9: The road less traveled

- In the morning I woke up to a beastiality joke. From Phil! It finally happened. It took over a week but his sass came out. And when it did, I had to tell him not to get fresh.

- Later in the morning I was getting dressed in the camper, and once I was done Phil opened the door without knocking. So I took the chance to be sassy back exclaiming, "What if I had no shirt?!" He paused. Then closed the door. It's like I've known him for years now...


- Before we hit the road I ate the last of my pre-made fruit salad. We started traveling back to San Felipe. After about an hour I started to get hungry but I was in the car now, not by the camper. There was a bag full of our remaining cookies up on the dashboard. It was only like 7am at that point. I decided to wait, we should be stopping soon and then we'll all eat. Well that passed. My body reached that threshold where it gives up on me feeding it and stops feeling hungry. That lasted about 15 minutes until it returned with revenge. I stared at the bag of cookies that seemed to mock me. Knowing full well I'm so hungry at this point I will destroy the whole bag once I start and there are two witnesses. I had an ongoing debate in my head. "Do I eat them now? Should I wait for real food? Cookies are real food. Kinda." We wound up stopping shortly after and I was able to eat some non cookies. But them cookies did get eaten later, that is fo' sho'.


- We detoured away from the group, going rogue again, to this town near Ensenada called La Boofadora. It was here that it happened. The thing I was looking forward too the entire trip to Mexico. I finally had, the best fish tacos I've ever tried. Here in this almost "Island's Burgers" franchise like building was where it all went down. For me, it's all about the hard taco. For Suzi it was all about the Pina Colada before noon.


- We stopped to gas up and it was there I noticed the Boston Red Socks hat on Suzi and Phil's dashboard. They are from Maine so it makes sense, but as a native New Yorker raised as a Yankee fan that enbroydered B makes them my sworn enemy. But enemies can work it out, like in West Side Story or Romeo and Juliet, minus the knife fight and suicide. But Suzi and I agreed we were proof the two can get along as long as baseball doesn't come up. Then, she's just dead wrong. About everything.

- There's this strip of stores in The Boof. I got a front row seat of Suzi in her element: Bargin Shopping. Truly a wonder to behold. She goes, "how much?" The guy tells her a price, doesn't matter what it is. She retorts, "No. It's too much." And walks away, like a champ. They follow. It's what my Aunt taught me to do with car dealers only I just don't have the stomach for it. Suzi did get a free bottle of pure vanilla extract out of it. The salesman was impressed by my limited Spanish. It made me feel good until I realized it was all a ruse. So yes, please, tell me more about these "Waches & much more!!" you are advertising.


- There's this thing they call "The Blowhole." At first I thought it was a joke but it ain't! People stand around this part of the coast where the water hits a wedge in the rocks and underneath is a dead ended cave. The water comes in, goes under, and shoots back up, sounding like a blowhole. Hence the name. Check it:



- At one of our military check points Suzi got out to walk my BF Paco. I look one second, she's up. I turn, and look back, she's gone. Or rather, on the ground. Randomly falling is kind of dangerous as you get older but I still find it rather hilarious and thankfully so did she.

- So there are these junk yards all over this town, except there isn't a word for junk in Spanish so they kind of created one that SOUNDS like junk and it's spelled, "Yonke." For some reason I found this utterly amusing and couldn't help but giggle every time we passed one, the humor was only elevated when both Phil and Suzi would continue to yell, "YONKE!" as she drove past.


- We also passed by some rocks with Jesus on them AND this. You know, mixing it up.


- Back home at Baja Joe and Lindsay's I soon discovered - wait I have 4 bags of rocks and shells? That can't be right.

- That night I watched my first ever full episode of Dancing With the Stars with Lindsay. At first thought it would be dumb. Cut to: end of the show and I'm all, "When is Kristy Ally coming on? I want to see how fat she is!"


Overall, the trip was amazing and I could blame my procrastination of not finishing the last day summary for well over a few months on the idea that I didn't want to admit it was over, but to be honest I was working on other writing project I had put off for an even longer amount of time. So don't hate.

But now I'm back on track and as my travel buddy Suzi often stated:
"Someday isn't a day of the week."

It's a good motto to live by.

DAY 8: The Ocho

- In the morning I went for a run with Paco out to the lighthouse again. Living dangerously with no pepper spray. Halfway there my hip started acting up again and I knew...they are sucking out my energy!


- Before leaving the town I wanted to pick up a six pack of Sol since it's the beer of choice for Suzi and Phil. It was the least I could do for becoming their de-facto daughter for the week. Little did I know the act of kindness would become a test of patience, that I basically failed. You see the clerk took FOR-EV-VER. And I don't mean over a minute. I was there at the counter, no line, just her, the six pack, a calculator, and a piece of paper. I stood there. "How much?" I could see the car outside and it was only a matter of time before it started honking. Slowly she lifts a pricing chart. She then counts the number of bottles in the six pack. She then punching numbers into the calculator. I expect to hear a number. NOPE. "I have to leave, people are waiting on me." She checks the chart again, counting the bottles. I hear the honk. I'm trying to do something nice and she's totally ruining it. Finally I said, "C'mon, how much?!" Then she just guessed. "100 pesos." I throw the money down, and peace right the EFF out before I punch her mouth off. Later on I realized I definitely overpaid.

- On the road again and since we are towing a camper we are naturally the fat kid in the race but that's what our radios were for - so if they can't see you, we can call them. Phil noticed the battery light coming on. It was over charging or something, I dunno, I'm a girl. He radios to let the group know we are stopped. Silence. In Baja, no one can hear you scream...He decides it's not that big of a deal. We keep going.

- Cows cross the highway at their leisure. I'm a cow, what are you gonna do, hit me? You can wait.


- We hit another military checkpoint. At this time I'm feeling more confident in my Spanish so I engage in conversation with them. I understood most of it, but once they go off the usual questions of - "where are you from, where are you going," and the classic flirty line: "you know Spanish?" I get a little confused and make my best guess at their question. I thought the guy asked how long we were on the road but the look on face told me I was wrong. We tried again. Same result only with more pointing. "Lo siento, no comprendo." Spanish Fail.

- Called my mom and she spoke with Suzi, who got a big kick out of her Lawg Island accent. They briefly bonded over their shared love of Rod Stewart. Is anyone shocked by this? I've never met a mom who doesn't love him. It's like meeting a Long Islander who hates Billy Joel. It's blastphany.

- We stop at a gas station. A little boy holds up a rack of bracelets at Phil. He says no but says he should talk to the senorita in the car. I thank Phil as the kid starts his emotional blackmail on me, excitedly holding up his stuff, "Please!" I wave him off. His face falls. A minute goes by. I make the mistake of looking over, the kid capitalizes on it. "Please..." I jokingly mock him, "Por Favor..." He smiles. He's so adorable and like 10 years old. Dammit, I'm gonna do this aren't I? I wave him over. Fine, c'mere. And it's basically Christmas morning. Three bracelets later, I'm being asked to choose one more so he can give me change. That kid is a hustler.

- Quick lunch stop. Ordered too much food? Ask the poor girl to help finish it. Free quesadilla, yes please!

- We arrive at "the hotel with The Gardens." I went for a walk around and at one point just stared off into an empty field across the street. It was very indie movie of me. So deep...


- I was also VERY tempted to steal one of these oranges...


- In the late afternoon while everyone got their self served happy hour wine on, Phil went to get the car fixed. We figured it was too late in the day for anything to get done. But lo and behold he returned, not grumpy for having to overpay for this and that which he didn't need, but essentially high - on life. He went to some random hole in the wall (seen below), where there was little language overlap, and got car fixed within an hour for 40 bucks. 40 bucks!


- We all go out to eat, hitting up happy hour and once again I can't say no to chips! The waiter Elardo tells me I have pretty eyes and from then on whenever I need a refill - I get it. Got hot sauce? Here's 5 choices. Works every time.

- A Mariachi comes to the table. I don't know most of what he's singing except, oh, that one is from the Kill Bill Vol. 2 soundtrack! I mumble my way through it. Impressed?


- In order to feel better about over eating at dinner I decide to play a little soccer in the parking lot, AKA juggling in the dark. Turns out, it's aReal hard, especially when your only light source is a street lamp...and you might still be a little buzzed...

- Upon returning to the camper Phil admits he's gay for Paco. Knowing there's no way anything more amusing will be said, I turn in for the night, boarding the sleepy train by 8:30pm.

DAY 7: One Whole Week

- We stayed at this hotel right by the beach. In the morning I decided to go for a much needed run as I hadn't done much besides drink and eat chips. So I went for a nice jog on the beach. When I started this lighthouse was far off in the distance. Eventually it was closer and I figured, eh, why not. Here's the thing about the beach, it's super hard to jog on especially when in some places you sink in. It was only maybe 4 inches but there's still that moment of "holy crap if it's quicksand, I'm doomed." It wasn't and I was fine. But still.


- As I approached the lighthouse I realized there were people up at the top. A family actually. Once I arrived I figured I'd head up to check out the view. There was this cement wall surrounding the lighthouse in the shape of a square. I went around one corner, then another, and another, and another. No door. "How the hell did they get up there?" I could have asked them but I only heard them speaking Spanish and I didn't know enough to figure out that sentence. Upon further investigation one wall contained a few small holes, making a makeshift ladder. I'm guessing that's how they got in, and probably threw the kids over. I mean, they're kids. They get hurt and get right back up.

- I then took a much needed shower. You know the kind where you thought you'd shower the day before but then, hey I can do it in the morning. Then morning comes and if I shower now, then I'll only be clean for a few hours before getting sweaty from exercising and having to do it all over again. Needless to say I was rocking a ponytail for 2 days. The best part was using the camper shower which to save water you only really use for about 2 minutes. So much thought, so little pay off.

-That day my cousin Baja Joe had arranged for an author named Herman Hill to come hang out with us as he wrote a book about his crazy Baja adventures and stories from growing up. He was 80 going on 20. At one point Suzi and I were in the car waiting for Phil and he came up to the window saying we looked lonely and proceeded to chat-slash-semi flirt with us. He might have invited us into his house. Dude's got game. It's all in the confidence, boys.

- We all went off exploring and found another camping site on the beach with an outdoor sink to clean your catch of the day. Yet again I found myself along the shore picking up more shells than I could possibly need. Lindsay found a totally bitchin' skull and I spotted the largest lobster exoskeleton ever. It's a fact, I checked with Guinness.


- Suzi, Phil, Paco, and I went off down yet another bumpy dirt road. We found this promising little town looking center where there was, according to the sign, a resort spa. Outside we found the entire population of this town center: some dude sweeping, a woman who I guess was supervising him, and this little dog that kept barking at me and then ran away when I tried to pet him.


- It was now the afternoon aka drinking time and Phil broke out his Spanish, using the one word he could always remember - beer. The guy said yes, we entered and upon inspecting the digs decided the term "resort spa" was a bit misleading. It should have been named, "Large Lobby with a Creepy Painting" because that's all we saw.


- After about 10 minutes we decided to blow that popsicle stand. As soon as we headed back to the car the guy used his limited English to let us know - "Beer" (insert him pointing around the corner). We followed and found another part of this majestic resort spa; a dolphin water fountain...with no water. But we did get beer and enjoyed an amazing view of the water, that was almost ruined when Phil revealed to me he was a Republican who was for the Tea Party.


- Back at the hotel area I found myself having another fling with another Mexican dog. After I pet him for 10 seconds he became my BFF, nuzzling under my legs when I sat down and following me wherever I went, for 20 mins or so until someone else came along. Jerk. This one was named Negro. Honestly I thought he was Paco at first, I mean they all look alike, am I right?


- Later that evening I went for a walk with Paco, you know, let him know he was the only Mexican dog in my life. Ever the worrier and wanting to make sure he didn't have to call my mom to tell her I was kidnapped, Phil gave me his pepper spray. Paco had a blast, especially after I let him off the leash to chase down some birds.



- As the sun began to set over mountains and it started to get darker I figured it was best to head back before Phil sent out a search party. When we approached the road I heard the familiar dog whistle again and spotted Phil walking over to us from the hotel across the street. Suzi later told me that as soon as the sun started to set Phil told her he was starting to worry and slowly made his way toward the beach. I found it adorable.


- Remember when we had ice-cream for lunch? Well, like me, Phil has a sweet tooth and he got more than he could eat that day so after dinner he polished off his leftovers. I've always said I don't trust anyone who doesn't like dessert so when Phil excitedly rubbed his hands together after throwing away the empty ice-cream cup claiming it was cookie time, he earned my complete trust, not to mention respect for doubling down.

DAY 6: Whale Watch!

- Turns out the town of Guerrero Negro is known for two major things, giant piles of naturally forming sea salt...


- ...and whales! I was told the whales usually get up close, occasionally stare you down, and perhaps let you touch them if they are feeling frisky. Unfortunately the weather was a bit windy and the water choppy. The people in the boat were getting antsy, "where are they?" Suddenly you are surrounded by blowholes, and dark shadows in the water. They were still playing hard to get but the few times they did come close I was reminded how much bigger they are than me, in this tiny boat. "Ok, that's close enough."


- On the way back there were some seals that were probably once in the Drama Club as they wanted us all to look at them. After the amusement wore off we began to wonder, "How did they get up there?"


- We caught back up with our posse afterward and got the impression that staying another day in Mulege was just ok. So we didn't rub it in their faces that we got cookies and ate ice cream for lunch.

- Turns out spending hours in the car makes my often sassy personality come out (shocking, I know). I stopped filtering myself which prompted a reluctantly giggling Phil to tell me to not get "fresh." It then became my goal to have him say that as much as possible. And I was successful, especially after asking if he'd rather fart constantly or never shower. We all agreed on farting.

- Every time we stop at a restaurant for a meal I tell myself I won't eat the chips and salsa but giant margaritas destroy my will power.


- We ordered dinner which then took an hour and then some to come out. Usually I'd be grumpy but I was buzzed and full of chips so I didn't mind. Instead I spent time watching the biggest dog I've ever seen, aka a black great dame named "Scooby Doo" despite the owners speaking limited English. I guess they get the Cartoon Network in Mexico. In this picture he's laying down and it's dark...but it's very possible I was just drunk and imagining it...


- Phil came out of the camper bathroom dressed for bed in these cutoff jeans that reminded me of a character on Arrested Development who claimed he was a "never nude" and had to wear cutoff jeans at all times in order to, you guessed it, never be nude. Suzi knew what I was talking about, Phil defaulted to claiming that despite the jeans he was a catch and a good provider.

- My hips were killing me which made no sense at all. I went from playing soccer or frisbee four times a week to maybe walking around town at a leisurely pace after sitting in a car for two hours. My best guess was my senior citizen friends were stealing my life energy so they could keep partying. That's the REAL reason I was invited...

- Once again I found myself exhausted before 9pm. As I went back into the camper I decided to take a picture of the door with a note on it that was applicable at pretty much all times.

It reads, "C (for Colleen), in bar, P (for Phil).