Get Fucked

The above is the #1 most used phrase of the weekend. I don't think I've ever said it out loud, but I heard it mucho much from Friday to this morning.

We were in Vegas for my friend Jen's bachelorette party. "We" being my roommates and my Aussie friend. Jen had something like 10 ladies there from all of the different times in her life. Her sister hosted the weekend's events and we toasted and drank and toasted and drank...

I met Jen in high school. We were sophomores and she was already hanging out with all the college kids from the town just next to ours. We hit it off instantly and one of my first memories with her was being at a keg party and being driven home by one of her friends. Jen and I both ended up hanging our heads out the window to puke on the ride home. Gross.

Just a couple of years ago, Jen and I were on a pub crawl together. We were walking back to her place from the last bar we could reasonably stay awake at and she fell down in an alley. There was a garage full of guys watching football that opened to the alley and they all saw this happen. She was super worried about them all seeing her fall down, so she pulled me down on top of her when I went to help her up.

As I was screaming and giggling and trying to get up, she explained to me that she wanted them to think we were just rolling on the ground, making out. That she was totally down there on purpose. Oh... Jen.

So I guess we're used to being trashed wasted drunky tanked around each other. Which is why she handled me falling off a table at the dance club on Saturday night like it was no big deal. I mean, I didn't just fall one time at the club either. It was just once off a table. The next night, she wouldn't allow me to even say I fell. She insists she caught me every time. That I couldn't possibly have fallen with her there to catch me.

She's such a fun friend. I love the ones who are just going to be in my life forever and understand what I need to hear in order to feel okay about acting like a total jackass.

San Jose to Arenal / La Fortuna to Puerto Viejo

I met my Aussie friend in Costa Rica for a 6 day road trip while she waited for her new Visa to process. Girl has been traveling in the US for 3 months and wanted to come back for more.

So I get to the airport and we had decided at the last minute to rent a car. Thought we'd be really super extra brave. Well... there are no street signs in Costa Rica. No one mentioned this to me- ever. And I didn't notice the last time I was there because I wasn't the one driving.

We were supposed to meet between 2:30/3pm in front of the US consulate in downtown San Jose. I got directions from the car rental place and ended up... somewhere else. Somewhere very rainy. Okay, so it was raining everywhere in San Jose just then, but I thought ESPECIALLY where I was driving. After stopping at a few places where I tried out my special brand of remedial Spanish mixed with charades, I found it. American flags flying. Ahhh, what a great feeling.

But no Aussie waiting for me. Apparently, she had wandered off 10 minutes before i finally got there- in search of internets to get in touch with me. I stood under the shelter of my umbrella and waited. My phone rang- it was my roommate. My Aussie friend was chatting online with her from somewhere near by. Yay! A few minutes later, we hugged it out and scuttled back to the rental car around the corner.

She wanted to take me to a delicious local restaurant near where she had stayed the previous night. When we got there, I was surprised to see it was the same exact place where I had my first dinner in San Jose during my trip in 2003. It's a very unique, welcoming restaurant with staff who kissed and hugged us on the way out.

Off to La Fortuna, we went.

It's supposed to be a 3 hour drive, I think. We left at around 7pm and made it by midnight. Not bad, considering a total lack of street signs and a fragile grasp of the local language.

We stayed at Kokoro Resort just up the road from La Fortuna. It was a gorgeous, private getaway in between the Baldi hot springs resort and the bigger, fancier hot springs resort just up the road.

After checking in and looking around a bit, my friend asked about the resort's pool. He told us it was closed for the night, but that we could use it tomorrow.

Oooookay. We prepared a couple of strong cocktails in the room and snuck past our host a little while later to take a quiet dip in the gorgeous pool. The scenery even at night time is breathtaking and the water was perfect. We were careful not to splash and giggle, but I think he knew what we were up to. I gave him silent kudos for thinking of issuing great customer service first, rule enforcement second.

Thus ended my first day and night in what I refer to as "my country". I love it only second to my own. Possibly more, but shhhhh don't tell the patriots.

Adventures in sleeping

I have stayed with the same couch surfing host in San Francisco 3 times now.

The first time I stayed, my friend Melissa and I were sharing the sofa bed in the living room. We went to bed in the wee hours of the morning. I got up to use the loo and I must have been disoriented (verrry drunk) and ended up choosing the dining room table as my bed for the rest of the night. Melissa got up, wondered where I was, and saw me sleeping on the table like a body in a coffin- perfectly straight, hands at sides. I remember wondering why the bed was so uncomfortable.

The next time I stayed, it was a surprise visit. I decided to rock it out and dance til 6am with Melissa and went back to the house with her to crash for a few hours. That time, I had to wee again and, on the way back to the living room, decided I'd just sleep on one side of my host's bed. He wasn't using it and didn't mind sharing the blankets.

This time, I took a full tour of sleeping surfaces. Our first night there, the Aussie couch surfer and I were sharing the guest bed. Only, when we got back from a dance club at 3am, there were people still up, hanging out in the living room! I was feeling super social (verrry drunk) and stayed up to chat while the Aussie went to sleep. I guess the little after party ended while I was napping (passed out) on the couch- half sitting with my head tilted against the cushions. Snoring, I'm sure. My host's best friend was on the other side of the couch, same sleeping position as me. I covered him up with the blanket and made it to the guest bed for about 2 hours of comfy sleep.

Last night, we were moved to the living room to sleep, as we had 2 more people sleeping over. We got in late, as usual, and everyone went straight to bed. I was rocking out to my iPod and wanted to have a bath and just 2 more glasses of wine before bed. I got in the bath at around 4:30 in the morning and woke up to cold water a couple hours later. Dang! At least I was clean...

I relocated to the mattress in the living room, right next to the Aussie and Melissa.

I may or may not have to purposely sleep somewhere odd the next I am in the city. My host recommended the laundry room.

Bad decisions

I'm going to make some this weekend.

Off to San Francisco, I go. There are many lady couch surfers I will be meeting up with in the city. Parties, music, dancing (only a little. plomise.), substance abuse... Ah, long weekends. How I love thee.

The Aussie couch surfer who I had super lots of fun with a couple of weeks ago will arrive at my home tonight and we're driving up together in the morning. We've been invited to several parties and I'm not sure which we'll choose. But I'm saving most of my liver, etc. for Sunday night.

For the arrival of the great and powerful Dirt Princess. Praise cheeses, let's share bathroom stalls in crowded clubs and PLEASE remember I'm in there with you this time :)

Can't wait.

Questions from a Psychoanalyst

I've spent the last several days in the close company of an Australian couch surfer who also happens to be a psycho analyst. Some things she asked me made me a bit uncomfortable- like how I tend to get in the therapist's office when they ask me "how does that make you feel?"

Q: Do you think I'm attractive?
A: Yes. You're lovely
Q: Are you attracted to me?
A: (Oh shit- is she hitting on me? Oh god.) I try not to go there - I'm trying to be a good girlfriend, so I really shouldn't even consider actually BEING attracted to anyone else.

Yay! Passed that one... right? Next was:

Q: Which perfume do you like better- this one... or this one?
A: I like this one better - it's not as spicy as the other
Q: What do you like about this one?
A: It's just more delicious is all.

She put the good one on. The other one smelled like fennel. Phew. And next!

Q: Do you like this dress for the wedding... or this one?
A: Ooooh- that one is gorgeous! Look at the material. It shines. I love the way it falls.
Q: What do you think this dress says about me?
A: It says chic sophistication. Very New York.
Q: Is it too dressy though?
A: It's a wedding. I think it will be fine.
Q: This other one- what does it say about me?
A: It says you know how to have a good time.
Q: Does it make me look slutty?
A: (oh crap.) Not at all- it's just more relaxed than the other one, but still very chic and expensive-looking.
Q: How much does it look like I spent on it?
A: I have no idea. Either dress will be great.
Q: But which one do you think is more expensive?
A: Ummmm... the more relaxed one.
Q: How could you tell?
A: You said it's from Paris and that's a fancy place!

I'm exhausted. Usually I'm asked general questions and can get away with completely generalized answers. I didn't expect to get the third degree from every answer I chose. It was kind of like an inquisition, but a pleasant one where my inquisitor took her shirt off a bunch and showed me what was under her fishnet stockings.

Cultural surprises

I have an Aussie couch surfer staying with me for a few days and I really like her.

Here are some reasons why:
She says the letter "H" like "haich". It's funny cool.
She uses the term "gift box" for a girl's down-belows.
She didn't know what a pearl necklace meant, other than a piece of jewelry and I got to explain it to her.
She said she was wearing "runners" (her shoes!)
She was a great teammate last night in a winning game of pool against a Brit and a big scary dude in a dive bar.

And finally, she's convinced me to muck up work or something and go get a mani/pedi right now.

All hail Australians!