Inspiration

I send you out now, to share yourself with the world
May its promise and complexity set your mind ablaze
May you hold fast to what your life has taught you
May you question everything
And when you have changed the world,
And the world has changed you,
May you return again, to this place,
And share what you have learned with us.

—Rev. Kelly Weisman Asprooth-Jackson, "I Send You Out"

the last of Costa Rica

I do apologize for the delay. A few weeks ago I went to do laundry but I didn't have enough money for two loads. So I went home to get more quarters. And then I completely forgot about the second load, leaving my laundry bag in the basement until two weeks later when I was wondering where my favorite jeans had escaped to. I hope this anecdote has served to give you a taste of my ridiculous spaciness and inherent procrastination...and that you'll forgive me!

The lovely A has informed me, indignantly I might add, that I neglected to mention her miraculous, time-consuming and tasty pancake making. One morning at the eco-village we made pancakes out of whole grain flour, camote flour, sugar, powdered milk, oatmeal, and the kitchen sink. I kid you not, each flapjack took about 20 minutes. Worth every minute in deliciousness.

In our last episode, A, L and I (me) had been shut out of their hotel in Montezuma and exiled in the no horse town of Cabo Blanco. After an evening of complaining they woke to the knowledge that they had their own private beach and pool and full use of the hotel kitchen so they spent the first day exploring, swimming, reading and sleeping. Then they went back to using the first person.

One of the hard to navigate aspects of a group vacation is the financial situation. I am of the school of thought that we'll split the bill when easy on the waitstaff and otherwise settle up throughout the days. I do not pay too too much attention to the nitty gritty cents and change. L on the other hand is very into the nitty gritty. At first she kept a running tally of our expenditures. Then we created a pool and each of us put $20 in each day. Then we argued over every purchase at the grocery store, prorating costs based on who we thought would eat the majority of the cabbage (L) or bananas (A) or eggs (me).  I threw a monkey wrench into the process multiple times. After discovering that the taxis' meters continue to run after it's stopped I started paying immediately without considering who owed whom money. And being too impatient to do math while waiting on line in the grocery store I often paid the whole bill myself. I am a very bad socialist.

So while in Cabo Blanco we went to the nature reserve where on the two hour walk to the beach we nerded out with the tree guide book.

Then we spent an hour on the beach eating tomato, avocado and cheese sandwiches (our go-to meal) and lounging in various states of undress: L went whole-hog full sun in her teeny-tiny, itty-bitty, polka-dot bikini, A stayed fully dressed (with long sleeves!) in the shade and I bridged the gap.

After two days of beach lounging in Cabo Blanco and cooking bizarre meals like cabbage with pineapple and french toast with honey we headed into Montezuma proper to party for a day before heading back to San Jose and home. Spur of the moment we packed up and hitched into town to find a room in a kinda creepy hostel with teeny tiny ant-filled rooms. Dumping our bags we took off to the local waterfall. I paddled around in a swimming hole while L hiked waaaaay up the rocks and A went to get a haircut. I think this pretty well demonstrates our relative sense of adventure. We finally had a super delicious meal in a restaurant and then went out drinking and dancing. L shut the place DOWN and I held my own I suppose. 

The next day, L went surfing and A and I shopped for my traditional vacation pair of earrings. L made me take a picture of our weird leftover breakfast complete with fresh coconut. I was distressed to learn that if I am stranded on a desert island I will not be able to survive on coconut because I am in fact allergic to it.

And then? We hopped on a bus, the ferry, the same bus over again and a taxi then another taxi and a plane aaaall the way home. We spent the last of our communal money pot on a small package of chocolate covered hazelnuts (there was an odd number which caused no small amount of stress.) Then we had one last tomato-avocado-cheese sandwich and ate all of our leftover fruit so we wouldn't get hauled away by customs.

I am pleased to say that we are still talking to each other.

Seasonal boyfriends

I thought I'd take a short detour from writing about my trip to Haiti (and the last few days in Costa Rica. Sorry.) to enumerate my theory of seasonal steadies. I can't take all the credit for the idea of a cycle of patterned partners. While I was living in Bolivia, and freezing my little backside off, my colleague told me that I needed a winter boyfriend. A winter boyfriend, he explained, was someone who's main role was to keep my bed warm.  (Just to be clear, he wasn't volunteering himself for the job.)

Although a practical idea, I didn't think more on it until this year when I lived in the draftiest coldest apartment known to man. I mentioned to my friends that instead of buying yet another pile of blankets I was on the prowl for a snow steady. He should be somewhat stocky (to lend warmth), look good in a sweater and like to read, watch movies (and do other stuff) in bed and ideally be able to skate. If he can make pasta and soups all the better. Goodness, I just googled winter boyfriend ...and it's actually a thing. See here and here. This came up recently on a camping trip when a classmate of ours was walking around in a t-shirt and overalls while the rest of us were wearing thirty layers of flannel. My bestie yelled out, "Oh my god Lenni, he can be your winter boyfriend!" Anyway think Andrew Lincoln or Jason Segel.

But despite the residual sweaters, we are now moving into Spring. I need a sweetie who will match my sundress. I'm thinking metrosexual, stylish arm candy. Jude Law anyone? Adrian Brody? I suppose these two could transition into summer but perhaps a more bronzed muscled look would be more appropriate. Anything to distract from my glowing whiteness. Think high school. Chris Evans. James Marsden. (By the way if you google shirtless you get a surprising amount of Zac Efron results.) My favorite season however is Fall. Crispy leaves, Cool air. New school supplies and hot professors in tweed waxing poetic. John Slattery-ish.

Not that it matters. For as I've already said, I'll always be a Lloyd Dobler girl.