Shut Up Already

More Costa Rica

Oh, and so much more to come.  But first, an anecdote. 

I woke up early every day in Costa Rica.  Our bungalow (or "jungalow", as I prefer) was an open structure, protected only by lattice and screens, and so when the birds woke up , I woke up.  I usually tried to go back to sleep, but on my actual 30th birthday, I was up before 6.  I waited until I heard my mom leave for her early beach walk, then slipped on my sandals and headed over to the water myself.  I dawdled a little bit, to let my mom get ahead of me so that I could have the beach to myself.

Even though it was slightly overcast, it was a beautiful morning.  Every morning on the southern Caribbean coast of Costa Rica is beautiful; not to be a broken record here, but it is like paradise there.  Anyway, the beach was empty in all directions and I kicked off my shoes and walked down to the water's edge.  I've been at a crossroads lately, with the job thing and the school business and my inability to find someone with whom I'd like to procreate, or even have a drink with.  So there I was, on a day I'd been dreading so much, on the edge of the continent and closer to the equator than I'd ever been before.  I thought it might be an opportune time for the universe to give me a sign of some sort. 

I splashed along the water's edge, letting the warm waters of the Caribbean wash over my feet and watching the sand crabs scuttle.  I was lost in thought: was I doing what I should be doing?  Was I living where I should be living?  Was what I had--friends, accomplishments, possessions--the right amount of stuff for a successful, modern 30 year old woman to have?  Was I even supposed to know the answers to these questions? 

A perfectly smooth, deeply black rock caught my eye.  It looked out of place in the soft white sand, more like a wormhole than a shell.  I picked it up; it was heavy for its size and egg-shaped.  No sand clung to it.  It was warm.  I hefted it for a moment, enjoying the feel of it in my palm, and turned to face the ocean, the biggest wishing well of them all.  Let me find love, I wished silently, squeezing the rock.  I threw it out into the surf as far as I could.

As soon as the rock left my hand, before it even hit the waves, a wet ball of brown fur whizzed by me at top speed and my mom put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Are you making him fetch for you?  Tsunami will be so jealous!"

Two seconds earlier, they had been out of sight down the beach, I swear.

Mommy and Tsunami.  That's the answer the universe gave me.  The lesson here, people, is to be very specific when you are making requests of the cosmos.  The cosmos are very busy and they do not have time to interpret your melodramatic wishes.  If hot monkey love is what you're after, don't downplay that.

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Top Ten Things You Should Know About My Trip to Costa Rica

1.  I barely even noticed turning 30.  I think I exorcised all of my angst ahead of time.  Everyone breathe a sigh of relief.

2.  Apparently, I don't mind being hot if I can just sit on the beach, in the shade of a coco palm, to cool off whenever I want. 

3.  I really really want a motor scooter to use in DC.  Like, really, really, really.  I'm so good at riding one.  Yet another unmarketable skill.

4.  I am impervious to bacteria, because I ate and drank everything I wanted, including unwashed fruit, ice, water, and some sort of porridge served from a pot balanced on the back of some dude's bike.  It was good. 

5.  I saw white-faced monkeys, howler monkeys, toucans, sloths, giant iguanas, Jesus lizards, and more without even trying that hard.

6.  I climbed through the jungle to sit underneath a waterfall, and on the way back I ate guava and manzanas de agua that had been picked less than one minute earlier.

7.  I went to the most beautiful beach in the world, and from there, kayaked down a river through the jungle.  Leatherback turtles bigger than dinner plates swam up under my kayak, and monkeys ran down the banks to peer at us through the foliage.

8.  There are places in this world that are so beautiful and astounding that you can't believe they're real, even as you're standing there.

9.  I can be happy living on a diet of rice and beans and fruit, with some vegetables and grilled meat thrown in for variety.  My mother cannot.

10.  I wish, profoundly, that we could sell this house and I could go live in Costa Rica for a year or two. 

(Pictures and more to come)

Pura Vida

So, in the midst of talking to me about a totally unrelated issue Saturday, my mom blurted out the top-secret name of my birthday destination:  Costa Rica!  Yes, I'll be turning 30 with my feet in the Caribbean and a bellyful of tropical fruit.  And rum!

We'll be chilling in Puerto Viejo.  I cannot wait.  The best I'd been hoping for was a weekend in Ft Lauderdale.  Not that Florida wouldn't have been lovely.

My mom and sister and I traveling together can be either the best of times or the worst of times.  I'm going to be optimistic about this trip, because I plan on enjoying myself immensely.  I'll be boring you with all of the details as they develop.

In other news, I chopped all of my hair off and dyed it red.  It felt good at the moment but I have a little buyer's remorse.  I hadn't really realized how long my hair was until the dude put it in a ponytail and lopped it off.  It made me lightheaded.  The red is fairly subtle, unfortunately.  I was going for something a little funkier, but oh well.  Maye I'll pierce my eyebrow or something instead.  I want to look like someone who doesn't work in an office.  But in a young and hip way, not in a brother-can-you-spare-a-dime way.

Vacay

OK, I'm off to NYC for the weekend and then two weeks at home, then a trip to FL and then...back here.  I'm not sure for how long or if it's a good idea, but I'm doing it.  I have plenty of free time to write/edit/whatever during the day and no expenses, and the bay and I have fallen a little bit in love.

See you next week.

I love Philadelphia. I gather that's not a popular opinion, but there you have it. I think it has a really good vibe, and tons of great restaurants and shopping. It's cheap, it's walkable. Working-class people still live IN the actual city. Love it. Two of my best friends are from Philly, one of whom moved back last year. She has a fabu apartment at 3rd and Market, which is comparable to Dupont here in DC, minus the gay vibe (not that there's much of that in Dupont these days.) Anyhoo, her apartment is an enormous loft. Huge. And her street has several cute shops, a gym, a corner store, a Starbucks, a little sandwich place...I hate her. And she only pays...I won't say what she pays, but it's not very much. I deeply wish I was from somehwere that I might conceivably want to return to someday. But I can't see myself being seduced back to ol' Newark, OH any time soon. Though they did just get a Chipotle.

I was in Philly only briefly this weekend, just long enough for luch at the Continental. Then, we went to Atlatic City. My friend--the one with the fab loft--has a family beach house there. Well, actually in Margate. Despite my birthday blues (which I've been fighting heroically) something about being in a vacation home makes me happy. They all have that summery, seldom-used smell and old, smooth sheets. I've been to the Margate house several times, and it kinda feels like MY vacation house. Only different, because I don't own it or go there very often. But I love it when I do.

So, to re-cap: I have no beach house, trust fund, or gambling winnings. I'm from a town with no Starbucks, and until pretty recently, not even a Gap. I pay too much in living costs. Ummm....that about sums me up for today.