Friday, February 22, 2013

Baja Trip Day 12 - Get the F out!

And now, the thrilling conclusion of my second Baja Trip...

I wake up at 4:30am.  It felt like I was just napping.  Check minus.  Music is playing from an alarm clock radio somewhere and it’s confusing the hell out of me.  "Is that the neighbors?  Is there a party?  What’s happening?"  Liz gets up and dresses.  I decide to hit snooze.  Get up at 4:42am.  Those 12 extra minutes having failed to do anything for me.  We “make the bed” AKA fold it back into the couch, trying to make the sheets on it flat so it’s not ridiculously wrinkled -- second fail.  Down a cup of tea that I will miss having everyday.  Shout out to PG tips for being awesome. 


Immediately I realize chugging a cup will probs make me have to pee aReal bad on our road trip.  Then I pee as a last ditch effort to empty the tank.  

We pack the car.  Joe asks about passports.  I take mine out.  Liz digs for hers after being “ready” for the past 10 mins.  She can’t find it.  Uh-oh Spaghetti-os.  She frantically checks ALL her pockets as Joe calmly lords over her from a chair, "Okay, slow down.  Take your time."  Thankfully she finds it and Joe finds a way to turn it into a lesson: "You should always keep your important papers in one place."  Now let’s go! 

Chewy comes for the ride and smells just how you'd image an aging, blind dog who's been roaming around the dessert would -- magical.  While on the road, Lindsay keeps yawning.  I nod off and my neck is killing me.  Clearly, I (barely) slept on it wrong.  We watch the sun rise. 


Joe tells us random facts while elevator music plays on his satellite radio.  We get to the border and wait 1 hour and 45 mins to get back to the good ol' U-S of A. 



I’m amazed I don’t have to pee.  Joe gets his car washed by a hop on.  His tip was well earned. 


Liz buys us all pineapple empanadas from a dude wondering up and down the rows of cars.  5 for 3 bucks. 


As Joe eats, he talks about the meatball soup over at Pete’s camp has changed.  It used to be you'd get 4 meatballs, then you got 3 or worse 2 – "Eh, get outta here!"  Lindsay shares her travel stories, she’s been to at least 18 countries that she can remember.  Then we wait alongside a guy with a dog who asks what kinda dog is Chewy.  Lindsay answers, "I don’t know."  Per our game earlier in the week, Liz and I crack up and are impressed that this guy got her to say it with ONE line.  Mi novio/hero!   

Back in the US, my phone freaks out with messages, voicemails, and emails I refused to retrieve while in Mexico to avoid a roaming fee.  We are now back on the grid and back to the grind.  We eat the only remaining flavor of Cliff Bars remaining: chocolate chip – the worst one!  Chewy old man cough/hacks from the bumpy dirt roads. 

Joe gives possibly the greatest piece of advice/best advertisement for Vons grocery stores:  "Vons is expensive, but if they have what you need -- go there." 
And yes, he is still rockin the French braid.

We find my car in the best little airport that doesn't charge you to park it there for an undetermined amount of time.  Good news, despite not being used for 2 weeks, it starts!  Liz will drive cause my knee is sore from all the nothing I did in the car.  Baja has made me an old lady.  We part from Joe and Lindsay and it is such sweet sorrow.  I give them money for their Costco "very berry" sundaes on the way home  (I also snuck some pesos and a $20 since I didn’t get to buy them dinner).


Liz and I drive, get some gas, and are constantly hungry.  We don’t want more granola or Cliff bars, so we both decide to take the physical challenge -- the food I took from the fridge (that didn’t work for 2 days).  The bag of food smells like something is wrong.  We power through and taste the carrots telling each other, "if you just brush off the dead lettuce leaves, it tastes fine."  Snow peas?  Eh, still good.  Then we try the hummus which is on the verge of turning but we’ll be fine.  The hard boiled egg smells okay.  It tastes okay.  But the aftertaste?  Not okay.  We spit that out and I find another carrot to split.  Later I fear we might play toilet tag.  And yet after every 15 mins or so we are starving again but we are also eating small amounts of veggies like we are some kind of small rabbits.  This is how/why I graze all day and are always hungry.  

We stop for gas where it's cheaper and I achieve the perfect pump that stops on its own at $50.00.  To celebrate Liz buys bananas.  It randomly pours.  We listen to the radio and sing songs we haven’t heard but are sure everyone else is sick of like Adele and Chris Brown -- "Hey, remember when he hit Rihana and now everyone is cool with him?"  Then that catchy Gotye song comes on 4 damn times, each time there's a brief moment of "What? Again?!" before we happily sing along. 

We get home.  Unpack.  Send emails informing everyone we’re alive.  We silently type fast & furiously on our laptops across the table from one another.  Then at the same time we STOP.  Lock eyes.  "OMG, I’m f-ing starving!"  

We beeline it to Hugo's Taco Stand and go to town on their sweet corn tamales.  Oh, how we missed them so...


Then we go to Trader Joe's and use my gift card so everything comes to a mere 11 bucks.  I do the unemployment fist pump.  Merry comes home, we tell her highlights. We get froyo and talk about how there should be a sad face at the bottom of the cup to indicate your eating of this tasty treat is over.  Go back home.  Watch videos from the trip.  Some Liz remembers, others she doesn’t.  I read her blog and her POV of the trip.  And now almost one year later, she can finally get all of mine! (#WorthIt?)  We finish watching yet another Chopped episode and pretty much just fight sleep the whole time.  Eventually we surrender.  But our loss is still a victory. 

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

A Visual Treat

While you wait to hear the thrilling conclusion of my latest Baja Trip, please enjoy some visual refreshments in the form of a wrap video rap video I created with a little help from some of my friends over at "Make It Or Break It" (aka M.I.O.B.I) after we concluded filming the oddly addicting ABC Family tv show last winter.

Tuesday, February 05, 2013

Baja Day 11 - The Last Supper

I wake up to an empty bed and the sound of Lindsey trying to talk to some family via a shitty Skype connection.  She winds up asking questions like, "how's the weather?" several times before realizing the connection was gone.  A shirtless Joe tells her to try again, but she’s not listening.  Technology be damned, she powers through asking other questions multiple times over, getting louder with each try.  Meanwhile, Joe shuffles up to the back door, hair down and flowing.  He can’t get his hair the way he likes it.  Which Liz and I later discover "the way he likes it" is in a French braid done by Lindsey al la every girl's sleepover party ever. 

My body hurts that morning so I opt not to go running with Liz.  Instead I walk and feel exhausted like some old lady.  She returns from her run.  I'm still not sure if we're cool after some of last nights shenanigans.  So knowing her aversion to all things food, I ask if she'd like to walk over to get the sourdough starter.  She says yes.  Success!  This is quickly followed by a FAIL, as homeboy wasn't home.  But our quest for food has once again reunited us and in the end, that's all that really matters.  Although, a 100 year old sourdough starter would've really kicked our friendship up a notch.

Then we get dropped off by the pool.  This time we tell designated mom Lindsey that we won't need a ride, we're sure we'll find one since it literally happens EVERY TIME we go.  Our novios will take us and get paid in free food at Boots's BBQ that we were invited to that afternoon.  We arrive to a packed pool volleyball court.  Dustin and I are on the worst team.  We total 6 points in 3 games.  But alas, a ray of sunshine -- in the last game we got 7.  It was like the movie Rudy, except it didn't make every boy I ever met cry.  It's here we are told about Shea’s party aka Jean's party who is Shea's dad/creepy old friend?  Regardless we are promised, "It’s gonna be retarded sick, dude."  But not as sick as this mustache Liz drew on Dustin's face.



Travis's team is gangsta and in it to win it.  Pfft, whatever, being an underdog is way cooler.  Sean has some issues with his team and gets into a "heated discussion" with an older woman on his team who kept giving him pointers despite her sucking a-real bad.  Please, lady, he knows what he's doing...




PS - Right after that photo was taken, Sean whiffed the serve.  We leave, shower, and head over to Boots's late 'cause that’s how we roll.  Boots is happy to see some handsome men -- her words.  People think we’re all dating.  We indulge them.  We enjoy deviled eggs, salad, chips, and steak that I was told was excellent.  Instead Liz and I ate pretty much all of this amazing dip.



For boys this all counts as a snack.  After two strong margaritas, I tell Liz and boys -- "Don’t look now but there's a leopard in the bedroom.  Don't make any sudden movements."  It's then they see I'm referring to a stuffed animal.  "What?  I'm not drunk!  You- you're the drunk face."

Liz plays angry birds with Boots's grandson Ben.  At first it's the video game, then it becomes a live action version using couch cushions.  It's the only time I've ever had an interest in playing.  I hang out with the adults on the back patio.  In the wind, the boys and I shoot the shit with a woman named Theresa.  Turns out, she wants out of NY but where else would she go?  I hear ya, sister.  The boys want out of Seattle, but could never do LA.  They plan to stay west side, and flirt with the idea of Colorado.  I flirt with the idea of visiting them in Seattle.  Party over.

We leave Boots's BBQ with one mission: get a sand dollar.  We arrive on the windy beach and get plelted by sand.  Also doesn't help that it's now high tide.  We realize we might have to come back in AM.  We start to leave like a sad Charlie Brown dragging his blanket... when, hark!  I spot three sand dollars on the way back to the car.  THREE!  BOO-YA!  Call GW Bush, cause I'm gonna need that Mission Accomplished banner right quick.  Sean pretends he spotted them first.



Next up, find a silver unicorn.  I'm not sure who requested this one, but obvious it would be an awesome find.  Instead find a Quest mini van with 22 inch rims, pretty close.  We proceed to find the following unicorns: onyx, glass blown, and white.  But, alas -- no silver.  You let me down, Baja. 

We walk the Malacon.  It’s empty now that Easter is over.  Liz and I split a giant pina colada.  Liz goes coo-coo for cocoa puffs.  Seriously, she can’t get enough and resorts to digging at it with a fork, and using the straws as chopsticks.




We stop for fish tacos since the boys need more dinner.  "Wait, so salad is not enough for you?  Weird."  We grab a seat and are convinced the waitress is pissed at us.  But turns out it’s just her face, and overall attitude at life.  Then we get her to smile.  We also get clams for the table.  Sean eats a ton of food.  Liz is drunk enough to eat garlic fish again.  I get shrimp tacos and despite trying to avoid the fried ones, they bring me the fried ones.  AWW SQUAWKS!  (Liz claims royalty rights).


We top the meal off with an Alexis request: "I want ice cream. Right the fuck now."  Oh, Alexis... Travis is happy to oblige Liz's stomach.  We go to our favorite ice cream shop.  We sample and ask the woman what pretty much EVERY flavor is over and over again.  This server probably hates us for real.  Liz tries a bunch but goes for her cookies & cream anyway.  I get the strawberry cheesecake the guys had the day before.  They get cookies and cream and butter pecan the annoyed server lady recommended.  Liz gets her cone last, but finishes first.  No one is surprised.  We all sit inside the un-decorated house/coffee house lounge area.  I tempt Liz to get another one by putting money down on the table in front of her.  She battles Alexis, but in the end decides against getting diabetes.  (Her loss)


We go back to the condo the boys got fo’ free: a three bedroom, 3.5 bathroom with huge ceilings, and a kitchen full of food on the stove, in the sink, in the fridge.  Thanks for cleaning, previous renters!  They have cable.  Obviously Liz and I immediately put on food network – "Oh look at that, Chopped is on."  We force the guys to watch 2.5 episodes of it.  They take turns showering.  For awhile Liz, Travis and I can’t stop doing the Bob's Mom/Sarah Palin voice.  I'm convinced I forget how to talk like a normal person.  To break it up, we randomly sing "Oh baby I like it raw!"  We comment on how shitty the acoustics are in the large/mostly empty living room with modern/awkward couches that are not comfy.  We also comment on the Chopped judges, and how we’d really like to taste everything.  When can TV do that?  And by "that" we mean feed us.  Iron Chef comes on, Liz and I are watching but the boys aren’t making comments 'cause they're getting sleepies.

It’s like 11:30pm, we realize we need to say bye to our resort peeps.  We said we’d meet up with them at that "retarded sick party, dude."  We go to their condo, enjoying the view of the stars along the way -- though Sean’s seen better.  We don’t find them.  Squawks!  Liz comes up with another gold idea of custom eye patches.  Sean is half blind, or at least that's what Travis keeps saying.  At first I thought it was a joke but maybe it's not.  Liz asks if he wore a patch -- on both eyes.  Liz wonders if it will sell as Sean mumbles he’d wear it.  Liz continues saying, "if only I knew someone."  Sean: "I’m right here."

We arrive at the condo but nobody's home.  The boys say they'll leave a note and we’ll find everyone one fine day, most likely on Facebook.  

It’s time to go back home.  Our novios drop us off one last time.  We exchange our info with them so they can find us in real life later.  Also they need our pictures 'cause they took none.  We linger, realizing this is the end of our random Mexican friendship.  We bid each other good luck on your travels.  It’s midnight, I still have to pack, and we’re waking up at 4:30am to leave by 5am.  Barf.  All I really want to do is shower but it’ll wake me up.  So instead, our dirty asses just go to sleep.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Baja Day 10

(New Years Resolution: Finish up my Baja adventures before a year goes by.  Seriously, now.)

We wake around 9am.  Get our fix of PG tips tea with a splash of soy milk.  I keep throwing more lotions on my face to avoid looking like a leper.  Travis shows up without Sean.  He figured he would take us to the pool if we wanted.  Liz and I split some oatmeal.  Baja Joe rises from his grave.  He's finally on his feet again, on the mend from his "vertigo" that had nothing to do with all the jello shots he ate yesterday.  We change and go to the pool, but in our haste don’t bring sports bras, which is essential when you have boobs beyond a B cup and plan to jump up and down while playing pool volleyball.  It looks like Liz is gonna have to sit this one out (sad face). But wait, Dustin has his mother Dawnett bring a wetsuit top.  Liz zips the girls in.  The v-ball Gods shine upon us -- She, Travis, and I are all on the same team and get ready to bring the hurt.  We own the first game thanks to a guy we call Brick House.  Fun facts about Brick House: he's in his 60s, 6 foot tall, probably was once in a biker gang, possibly killed a man while in said hypothetical gang, and has a tattoo of a looney tunes character playing volleyball.  Can you say, "Ringer"?  Cause his crushing spike can.  That's him standing in the corner, all business.


Due to her massive consumption of margaritas throughout the week, Liz boldly states she’s not having any today.  But Dustin’s not having it and Liz has no will power, so she’s already on her first one.  I obsessively add lotion to my face to prevent it from becoming sandpaper.  I rock a hat as well, giving me the sexy air of a mom on vacation.  We lose our second game.  Win the third.  Play all women for like 10 mins.  Despite being a woman I will happily admit they all kinda suck.  Liz gets ALL of our 4 points. The boys then get to play for like an hour.  We have a couple more margaritas.  Liz keeps herself to two.


She goes to buy a round for everyone: including Sean and Travis.  But I kindly remind her they don’t drink anything beyond unhealthy amounts of Rock Star.  A buzzed Liz retorts:  "AW, SQUAWKS!"
We lay out,  Liz writes “LIZ” on everyone’s back before rubbing in the sunscreen.


Later on Travis teaches us cribbage.  What's that? You've never heard of it either?  Join the party.  He attempt to explain it to us but it’s crazy hard with lots of elaborate rules.  We haven't even started a practice hand and I can see Liz is already bored.  Somehow, I manage to get 16 points!  Whatever that means!  Sean and Travis ask Liz to take a picture of them (and not just food) since they don’t have a camera.  Begin photo shoot...



Once we're done posing like idiots, Dustin recalls his first convo with Hollywood Ron who painted Dustin the impression we were super slutty and "down for anything."  But that couldn’t be further from the truth.  Oh, Hollywood, you so silly.  Do these look like the faces of skanks?


I think not.  We kill time by allowing Robbie to harmlessly hit on Liz.



He and Dawnette managed to get Travis and Sean a condo to crash in for the night (fo' free 'cause it still needs to be cleaned.)  It's condo number: 69-4.  Insert sex jokes here.  We are tempted to play Frisbee but Liz's stomach Alexis is hungry, and you don't want to deny her or there will be hell to pay.  We go to dollar night dinner at the resort restaurant.  It takes FOREVER for them to open the line.  Travis and Liz get punch drunk and humor an old couple who tells us all about the finer points of playing dominos.  I sing along to the DJs easy listening choices wherein Phil Collins makes me think twice about another day in paradise.  Once we go to town on the buffet of mostly reheated items, Travis overeats and Dustin kisses a pony in the background.


We go back to Baja Joe and Lindsey's with one simple goal: take a shower.  When we get there, they gone!  So I convince the boys to take showers too.  Travis runs in first and takes FOREVER.  I believe it was right around here we started to call him Metro as in a metrosexual.  If you are unaware of the term - Google it.  I shower next, but once I'm done my naked self notices there is no towel.  So Liz follows the sound of my voice and hands me one.  We all get ready together, finding room for all of us to prep in the mirror like a bunch of sorority girls heading out to Sigma Beta Pi's keg party.  My face is flaking off - Hot!  Thankfully, no one can notice but me.  Sean brushes his teeth (none of us are surprised as on more than one of our outtings he has flossed in the car).

We can’t believe we aren’t sick of each other.  Especially since Liz, Travis, and I often default into sounding like Bobby’s mom from the popular 90s cartoon Bobby’s World, about good Midwestern values.  "Don't cha know!"  It’s either that or "AW, SQUAKS!"  The larger point being, we’re insane.  And whenenver Sean tries to tell a story it takes so long Liz gets bored and interrupts him and/or we make it sound like he’s bragging.  He must hate us.  But he doesn’t, or he would have murdered us by now.  He would know how to get away with it too.  He knows everything.  Which is why we nicknamed him Wikipedia.  

Before we leave Mom & Dad (Travis & Sean) have a mini fight about not wanting to drive into town all in one car because Sean wants to be able to leave whenever he's ready.  But Travis thinks the condo people have been so nice to them, it seems rude to turn down the offer to ride with them.  Liz and I fear the parents are splitting up and it’s all our fault.  In the end, the argument takes so long the condo people left without us, but we managed to run into them at the gas station and were glad we had our own ride cause it looked like the driver might have had a few already. 

We head to Al’s bar - an eclectic little dive bar whose ceiling is covered in underwear left behind by many drunk women with the sprinkling of the occasional pair of boxer briefs.


We are told hanging up your bra or underwear is a "thing" you have to do.  Liz and I decide we should go find that giant pair of underwear we saw the other night being displayed on the street, purchase it, and hang it in the bar with the label, "Hollywood Ron's Girls."  We wonder the streets for a good 15 minutes, but don't find it, learning a valuable lesson that when you come upon an impossibly large pair of panties you will never use, buy them on sight.  At one point we look lost and a mom with her young son ask if we need help.  After explaining our need for huge underwear, she promptly shuffles her son away from us saying, "Okay, thank you, bye."

Fun fact about Al's - when it's your first time there you get a free shot of their homemade tequila.  Bonus: it's delish.  Liz and I have our fair share of giant goblet drinks and shots.


DJ Bubba shows up.  Now it's a party.  We realize, Bubba basically has one CD and the best job ever.  The same 90s dance party mix we partied to a few nights before starts pumping.  Don't worry, "I like Big Butts" is definitely in there.



Then there are talks of doing body shots.  Naturally, the boys are ALL about it, the girls are hesitant.  To Liz's surprise, I'm game.  Baja Colleen has arrived and plans to do baby's first body shot! (Sorry, Mom).


Then the boys take their shirts off hoping the ladies will take body shots off of them.  All us girls revert back to high school dance mentality and stay on the other side of the room away from the bar huddling together for there is safety in numbers.  Look how stoked Robbie is for it.  Aww....


A few crushed dreams later, the guys put their shirts back on.  Travis and Sean are super tired and not drunk.  They just want to sleep and not in a small tent outside in the cold like they have been.  Can you blame them?  But Liz and I can 'cause we're full of liquid happy and don't really want to leave just yet.  Instead, I side track the boys into teasing a buzzed Liz everyone is super mad at her for being drunk, since she was comically paranoid about it the day before.  How could this plan possibly backfire?  And then it happens, the fantastic foursome finally gets a little bit annoyed at each other.  Oops.  My bad.

But our friendship isn't over enough to turn down an uncomfortably quiet ride home.  To break the tension we enjoy watching Dustin drive home drunk alongside us.  Did I mention there are no rules in Mexico?

Liz and I get home.  Silently make our bed and fall asleep.  And I hope there's a reboot in friendship by morning.