Surprise Adventure

A couple years ago, my mom and I were visiting San Diego at the same time and wanted to go on an adventure.

My sister lives in Oceanside, so she got a few friends together to take a day trip to Tijuana, Mexico. After parking on the USA side of the country border and walking into the downtown area of Tijuana, I saw a big sign for a night club and my eyes lit up with wonder and excitement. I had never been to a night club in Mexico before!

I said to the group: Oh my god, you guys! Let's go there!
Worried looks were tossed my way from everyone in my vicinity. Probably even passers-by worried for this small group of silly tourists.
My sister flat-out said no. She didn't think it was a good idea.
But I am convincing and was determined.
Come on you guys! Have you ever been to a night club in Mexico and DURING THE DAY??? How exciting! Stop being sticks in the mud. Live a little!

And so, we were ushered in by a very welcoming man who stood at the entrance, just waiting for us to make up our collective minds.

As soon as we walked in, I heard some peppy music playing and squinted my eyes to try and see in the darkened club. I followed the man from the entrance as he led us to a long bench seat against a wall on one side of the room.

I thought it was strange that we were all seated at such a long bench and just as my mom sat down next to me, I looked up and finally, my eyes cooperated to see what we had walked into.

A very young-looking girl was dancing around a pole mostly naked on the stage in front of us. My jaw dropped and my stomach turned. SHIT. I just brought my mom to a seedy strip club in Tijuana.
Just as I was about to get up and high-tail it out of there, my mother leaned over speak firmly into my ear: We are having ONE drink and then we're leaving.

Ahhhh, mom. She didn't want to cause a scene, so she played it cool. My sister glared at me and her friends laughed. Dang. They all knew how much shit they'd be able to give me for practically forcing them to go into a strip club in the middle of the day on a family outing.

When we finished our drinks, we departed and it was unanimously decided that I was no longer allowed to choose activities for the remainder of the day. Probably for the remainder of my life on family outings, actually.

Home, sweet home

I don't feel like crying anymore.

I've had the giggles all day. Even when I went for my torturous waxing this afternoon, I was giggly. Deanna is working at a new salon that hands out WINE for every client. THANK YOU, SALON!!! And she said it's really slow lately, so I should drop by just to chill, have a glass on the patio overlooking the marina, and chat. I love my waxer.

So- I am not unpacked yet, but I should probably do that tonight. We have some couch surfers coming in, but I forget who they are/how many they are. It's been awhile since we said they could come. Whatever- new people, new adventures. We shall see if they are rad, hmm?

I talked to my mom on the phone for the first time in a couple of weeks today and it took me about 15 minutes to give her a whole rundown of my trip to Africa. Most of it was stories from dance floors. Guess that's just the way I prefer to spend my time. Also, I broke my foot from so much dancing. Lame!

Mom told me my sister is having some issues with her pregnancy- she's at 35 weeks and her mucus is gone or something and she's dilated. I don't know how long babies are supposed to stay in for, but mom says it's too early for my nephew to meet the world. I'm thinking I should shoot down to San Diego for at least a few days to help my sis out so she can rest. She's working until Friday, then she's off to put her feet up and keep the baby in for as long as she can. I'm pretty sure my niece won't mind me being around either- we have super lots of fun together.

Driving is hard.

January 9, 2006, I was driving my little Miata (that I just gotten back from the mechanic. WooHoo!) and made a grave mistake.

I was in unfamiliar territory - my sister Maria and I had gone out to try a Chinese restaurant a town several miles from my home. I was exiting to go across the street and paused a bit at the exit because there was something a little bit off about the ramp, but it was dark and it looked fine after all and so I continued forward.

Stupid, stupid, stupid curb!!! And Stupid Miata and stupid driver behind the wheel!!!

So there I was with Maria, stuck on the curb. My back wheels were still touching pavement, but just barely. We got out and surveyed the damage. Two guys pulled over to offer to help and Maria goes- Wow! This is a great way to pick up guys. And I thought- oh yeah. Keep that one in my pocket for future reference. Right now I'm just worried about my adorable little car and so the guys walked over and decided what to do.

Can I just take this moment to thank mother nature for the invention of boys and muscles and ingenuity? I love boys.

SO- they decided I should get in and hit the reverse while they both lifted the front of my car to push it back. It worked right away and I thanked them both profusely.

I would have loved to get the very cute boy's attention under other circumstances, but I don't think he could ever really respect me after seeing me drive right off a curb.

My car was fine. Maybe a new little noise, but it kept going until I traded it in for my granny car a month later. I decided not to drive off any more curbs.

psychological warfare works

My mother never had much patience for children. She loved my sister and I with a fierceness matched only by mama bears, but just couldn't handle our immaturity. She had two of us at home to deal with and we weren't always easy to handle.

She wasn't into spankings or taking privileges away from us. She did try spanking us on one or two occasions (we ALWAYS got in trouble together- never one at a time) and we laughed at her wimpy swat and ran to our room.

Mom had to get creative to make us listen and STOP WHINING.

It started gradually- a hint here, a clue there. She was dropping stories about gypsies cleverly every time she could. After a little while- maybe a couple of months- of stories about how awful and evil gypsies are, she sprung the news on us.

The gypsies had moved into our town and were picking up all the bad kids once a day in front of the Safeway supermarket.

From then on, into our early adolescence, all mom had to say when we were being whiny little brats was "You want me to drop you off at Safeway?" and we'd be perfect little angels.

The thought of gypsies still scares me senseless. AND my mother can rightfully claim that my sister and I were always well-behaved as children. She made sure of it.

The first time

My sister and I were so excited to go play at Zuma beach in Malibu during one of our dad's visitation weekends. He brought boogie boards for us and we set out into the sea, splashing around the waves while he stayed on the beach to catch some rays. We were maybe 11 and 12. This was during the time when he was competing in triathalons and he wanted to be tan for the one coming up.

Out at sea, my sister and I were catching waves like crazy, boogie boarding our little hearts out. After awhile though, we noticed that we were kind of far from the shore. We were right next to each other when we realized we were caught in a rip current.

Neither of us knew what to do about it - we were being swiftly pulled out to sea and soon found ourselves looking at the backs of surfers. I'm a strong swimmer and so is my sister, but this was scary. We were floating on our boogie boards and tried waving to shore, yelling, trying to get the life guard's or our dad's attention.

We kept moving farther from the shore with every passing second.

Finally, with no one responding to our calls for help, we swam toward shore. We weren't making much headway. My sister started to fall behind- she couldn't paddle anymore- the current was too strong and we'd already been swimming and paddling while boogie boarding for quite some time.

Her boogie board was keeping her afloat, but it wasn't helping otherwise. She let it go and I yelled to her to hold onto mine. I kept a tight grip on the cord and pulled her and myself toward shore.

It felt like an eternity before I touched sand with my toes. I was gasping for breath and trying so hard not to panic from terror. My sister was kicking and holding onto my board for dear life. I dug into the sand and pulled harder, going inches at a time, against the rip current.

Finally, we got close enough to shore where we could both dig into the sand and walk forward without losing any ground. When we made it back to dry land, it was a sobering moment. The beach was busy with sunbathers and sand castle builders, but no one had seen us out there, fighting to get back.

My sister hugged me (which was RARE) and thanked me for saving her life. This was the first time I'd need to be there to make sure my sister made it through another day alive.