The Edge

Feeling a little funky today. Like I’m standing on the edge, not sure if I’m going to stand firm or fall into the deep hole of depression or perhaps just be dowsed in it briefly. Feeling down scares me. I never know if it is the signal to a big fall or just a little low that will shortly pass. I’ve been having lows in the evening lately. I know this can just be a normal part of my cycling. It is hard to determine when I am at that tipping point though. Unpredictability is both fun and frightening in my life.

So, feeling like I wanted to crawl under a rock, I instead gathered myself together and headed out to the seawall. I figured a good hard walk might help get some endorphins kicking around in my brain. It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining. It’s warm. I’m walking along the seawall, listening to Sarah McLachlan’s “Afterglow”, which speaks to my depression and is probably not the best choice, but listening to someone else’s depression is somehow reassuring. Random thoughts swirl around my foggy brain. I feel overmedicated today. What would I do without the ocean at my doorstep? I am trying to really appreciate it, but I am feeling sombre and a bit numb. I should not wallow in my depression. Try to focus on the beauty around me. What am I going to do to fill up my days? What is going to motivate me? I am getting that drowning feeling. I try to ignore it, push it away. Walk hard. Runners pass and I think I should start running again. I get a sudden craving for the rush I used to get from running. I need to walk as fast as possible to get those endorphins going. I wonder how I can motivate myself to start running. I wonder if I need new shoes? I feel like I’ve gained some weight. Do I really care? I feel detached. Being present is a challenge. I wish I could just keep walking and never turn back. I am tired of my illness today. Eventually I have to turn back though. I have to go home. I am seeing friends tonight. I do feel a bit better. I tell myself, it’s just one of those days. It certainly could be worse. And for now, I remain on firm ground.

My Own Craziness Perfectly Described

A girl I met through a Bipolar group on Facebook recently shared this writing. I think it so perfectly describes the rapid cycling brain, that I thought if anyone was ever unsure as to how my little brain may operate, this may shed some insight. I've copied it below, as written by Rosalie with her permission.

The Rapid Tornado

"You asked me how I'am today, there isn't much I can truly say. Feeling high feeling low lack of sleep and on the go. Rage and anger join the scene, never normalcy in between. Not all cases are the same this is ultra cycling with mixed states off I go again.. Feeling high manic head take a walk, and your meds. Lights are bright sound so loud all of the sudden your afraid of crowds. Feeling low and much despair it is hard to go almost anywhere. Heaven knows what to do this massive pain I'am going through. Rage and anger are back once more ready to start a massive war. So all to see this unusual aggression is nothing more then "Manic Deppression"

- Rosalie Ahlblad-Preston

What I Learned On My Mexican Vacation

I AM NOT A GOOD FLYER. It became very clear on this trip that, really, I am just not good on airplanes. Being stuck on an airplane for longer than 2 or 3 hours just agitates me. I don’t know if it’s the altitude, my general restless and excitement to get to my destination, being closed up in small quarters, or what, but it seems to turn on my agitation to an unacceptable level. Which is unacceptable to me. If I ever want Dave to journey to Europe with me again, I’ve got to get my act together. I have discussed it with my doctor and its official. All future flights will be accompanied by my good friend Ativan.

I CAN SNORKEL! I have tried snorkelling twice in the past. The first time, I gave up immediately. My fear of getting water down that little pipe combined with the whole breathing thing made me claustrophobic. The second time I was okay, as long as I was holding on to someone. However, nobody really wants you hanging on to them while they are trying to enjoy their snorkelling. I really wasn’t sure that I was going to be joining in on the snorkelling on this trip. But, guess what? If you put a life jacket on you just float around, there is no chance of sinking low enough that water will get into the pipe thingy, which allows you to just relax and breath and check out all the cool stuff under the water. It’s official – I can snorkel.

I CANNOT SPEAK SPANISH, NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY. I am just not meant to speak any other language. Spanish is supposed to be one of the easiest languages to learn. But could I pick up even a few phrases? No, not really. I could repeat a word or phrase over and over in my head but when it came out of my mouth, it was nothing like it was supposed to be. I can’t even get people’s names right. After calling our lobby bar bartender A-Frame – to his face - (his name is Afraine – pronounced a-fra-een) I worked diligently at trying to get it right. I came up with all sorts of variations, but at the end of the week still had to ask someone how to pronounce it every time. Its official, I cannot speak Spanish.

I CAN DIVE! I love the water. I love being in the water. But I am not what you would call a swimmer. I am more of a splasher/paddler. I don’t dive into a pool. I ease in. I plug my nose with my hand when I go under water. Near the end of our vacation, I decided that I really needed to learn how to dive in. I mean, I used to dive in all the time when I was a kid. And everybody else was diving in. I was feeling left out. Then I heard that Kyndra had learned to dive in and that was it. Now I had to. I couldn’t be the only one who couldn’t dive. So…there I stood at the edge of the pool, feeling like I was 8 years old at swimming lessons, as Dave gave me my diving lesson. Graceful I was not, but ladies and gentleman, it’s official – this girl can now dive! I was so excited, as I practiced over and over, you would have thought that I was actually on my way to the Olympics.

MY FOOD CAN TOUCH AND I WILL EAT IT. For those of you who know me well, you know I’m a picky eater. I’m not all that adventurous when it comes to trying new things and I don’t like my foods to be touching each other on my plate. Well, I can now say that I have put things in my mouth without knowing what they are. I can now say that I will pile a lot of food, much of it unknown, onto my plate, mixed together and enjoy it. Love it, actually. I don’t even like tomatoes, but I can eat salsa! Of course it would have to be the kind of fresh salsa I was eating in Mexico. Refried beans – bring them on! I suddenly love and am CRAVING Mexican food. Oh how culinariously (is this a word?) adventurous I was!

So there you have it. We may not have ventured far off the resort, but this girl did venture into some new territories in her own world and come to accept a few things that she just may not be able to change. Fun and educational! What more could I ask for?

The Mexican Diaries: You Say "Tequila", I Say "T' Kill-Ya"

What would inspire two beautiful, intelligent, strong, independent women to suddenly decide to straddle a minature sized horse statue in the middle of the hotel lobby bar? And what would possess a self-assured grown man to allow himself to become "one of the girls" and also participate in this "horse riding"? And FURTHER, what would motivate yet another seemingly intelligent (sorry, I must emphasize the seemingly at this point) grown man to announce that he can roll a lime up and down on his belly and then perform said trick (again, in the hotel lobby!)? Now I'm not saying that any of this occurred one evening in the hotel lobby bar after having dinner down on the beach, but... Well, okay, I am saying that this occurred one evening in the hotel lobby bar after dinner down on the beach. And while I can't definitively place all blame on tequila, I cannot completely rule it out as the cause for such behaviour.

I believe the consensus on the first night of this vacation, by any of us who had ordered a margarita, was that, well, they were pretty much awful. Clearly the all inclusive package did not include the "good" tequila. I don't think it even included the "bad" tequila. I think it actually included the tequila that was so bad it could not be sold at all, as not even the poorest Mexican would pay a peso for it and in order to get rid of it, it was passed off to tourists at all inclusive resorts who would drink it because it was free (like us!). Yet, however awful these margaritas were, we continued to order them, drink them and order them again.

I know for a fact that margaritas were consumed by at least a few of the participants in the hotel lobby bar antics on the night in question. Further tequila was consumed by all participants in the form of shots while lounging in the bar. (I should note that one round of said shots was actually "good" tequila, sent over by one of Rhonda's (I mean Ginger, I mean Sandra) admirers. Although I think this was after the fact as some sort of toast to our antics.)

So, after a while, what do you do in a hotel lobby bar? Well, according to Jeffrey! Jeffrey! Jeffrey!, you roll a lime on your belly. And then you are given your room key and put into a taxi back to your room.



Now what? Well, there's this horse statue which I believed to be a permanent fixture to the ledge behind our couch...I decide that this is not only a great photo opportunity, but it's just a little bad to be horsing around on a piece of sculpture in your hotel lobby (no pun intended of course!) and well, let's be mischevious! So, much to Dave's initial chagrin, I'm on the horse.

Not to be outdown by a fellow attention seeker, Rhonda (oops, I forgot, at this point she is Ginger, I mean Sandra - it's a whole other story) also gets on for a ride. This is hysterical to us all (and yes, once again, you had to be there). We are being sneaky, trying to make sure our bartender Afrieme (NOT pronounced A-Frame, as I keep unintentionally calling him) doesn't see us. We have had our giggles and are on the couch when out he comes, picks up the horse, puts it on the ground and gives us the okay to ride away. Hysterical laughter. The thing isn't even nailed down! And apparently nobody cares if we're making asses of ourselves on it.

SO, not to be outdone, or perhaps to quieten our egging him on, girlfriend Dave hops on. Dave, by the way, has become one of the girls by default when Jeffrey! Jeffrey! Jeffrey! was sent home in a taxi.

I'm not really sure what else to say about this. The story had to be told. Likely not one of my proudest moments. Then again, definitely not one of my worst public displays of behaviour in recent history (you've read the Portugal blogs, right?) Surely a very fun moment indeed. And perhaps a little warning: while that cheap tequila won't literally kill ya, if you're going to drink it, spend the money and order yourself the good stuff.

The Mexican Diaries: An 8 Hour Tour

(Heading out - Jeff, Rhonda, Kyndra, Cindy, Me and David Suzuki hiding up front with our guides)

Day 2. We are hanging out at the pool. Mike comes over to tell us they have hired a boat for the following day to take them out for a little tour around some of the bays for some snorkelling, lunch on a beach somewhere and well, whatever they want to do basically. Beer is included. The boat leaves at 9 a.m. and will return at 5 p.m. Would we like to join them? Hmmmm. We were planning to go into town. But hmmm. Out on a boat full of beer with our new found friends all day? Hmmm. We don't think the town is going anywhere. Ah, ya, sign us up. I will definitely be able to get up early for this!

So bright and early on whatever day it was, the eight of us board our boat and head out for what will be the most surreal and incredible day of our entire vacation (well, at least it was for me). A cooler is stocked with Corona's and thanks to Cindy, Kyndra and Rhonda tripping into town again, we've got lovely malibu and pineapple juice cocktails. As we set sail we all agree that 9:30 is not too early for a Corona, given the circumstances, and we settle in for our adventure. (Kyndra and Cindy enjoying some Coronas)

Our guides or drivers or whatever you want to call them asks us where we want to go and what we want to do. I believe we all have completely blank looks on our faces. Um, we're hanging out on this boat with cold beer, what else is there? I think we eventually tell him to just take us somewhere nice where we can snorkel. Or at least this is what I assume was communicated, given the destination we ended up at.


(Our guide's catch!) On route to that piece of paradise, our one guide suddenly catches a huge fish. Just, out of the blue, he's reeling in a big fish. I don't think that us girls even knew he was trying to catch a fish. So he reels in this fish...with NO FISHING ROD!!! This guy is using a piece of fishing line and wrapping it around a piece of cardboard. I've never seen anything like this. I mean, this fish is big! So this is pretty cool. David Suzuki tries his hand at this method of fishing...isn't his catch cute?


(Brent aka David Suzuki's catch)








After cruising past homes set on the hillside that belong on the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, or at least like they've been transplanted from Shaughnesy, (and trying to plot how we could become owners of one of said homes) and getting past the big factory that is clearly not in line with the Kyoto Accord, with all the pollution spewing out of it, and oh, spotting a whale breaching in and out of the water (really, i'm not making this up), we end up in this cove. According to our guide, this is the best place to snorkel in Manzanillo, with over 100 species of coral. This cove is completely private. We are the only people here. Just eight of us and this beautiful cove, surounding by high hills on three sides and just ocean, ocean, ocean on one. Our boat is anchored and we proceed to spend the next three or four hours just hanging out in this bay. It is utterly and completely surreal and there is no possible way to describe it fully. You just had to be there. Our initial purpose was to snorkel. I think we all thought we were making a quick stop for snorkelling and then we'd be on our way. So, we all do a bit of snorkelling, which is totally amazing and we see some really cool stuff. Kyndra and I, not big swimmers and not all that sure that we are going to actually do any snorkelling, hang back until the rest of the clan is out in the water. We then learn that if you wear a life jacket and just float, well, snorkelling is easy! Kyndra and I are now full on snorkelling enthusiasts! (Right Kyndra?)

(Kyndra can snorkel!!!)


(I can snorkel!!!)











Back on the boat, our guide, who just happens to be a bloodly marine biologist (again, i am not kidding) is back and forth bringing us all kinds of things to look at...starfish, sea urchins, sea snails. It's like we're on some sort of National Geographic expedition. With beer and cocktails. Yes, it's all very cool. At some point I think we all realize we're going nowhere fast, and we just kick back and let the fun take over. (note: this is wear the speedo makes its first appearance.)
(That's me - holding a starfish!)



(Me, Rhonda, Cindy, Kyndra hanging in the water - this pretty much sums out how we spent our afternoon)

(Dave and I - chillin' in the water)

So this is really what is so incredibly cool about this day...the just chillin' out in this bay. Just us. Nobody else around. On the boat for a drink. Into the water to cool down (well, all right, really into the water for a pee). Back on the boat for a drink. Repeat. At some point we realize we have one floatie with us and that wow - don't life jackets make great floaties too. So now just picture us...all floating around this secluded bay, blue sky above, hot sun, surrounded by hills full of cacti, sipping our drinks, not a care in the world. Time stood completely still while we played in our own private ocean. Talk about surreal. It could not have gotten any better than that. I really could live in that moment forever. If I'm ever asked to go to my "happy place" this will be it.

(Jeff - more chillaxin' in the water)














Eventually we leave this little paradise to seek out food. A most memorable moment occurs when, out in the open water, someone has to pee. We call to the driver to stop the boat, which he seems to do on a dime. Almost in unison we all jump up and jump ship. If only that had been caught on camera, I think we could have won a prize for it! We head towards a beach for lunch. We are all under the impression that we will have to jump into the water, getting wet and walk up to the shore. So we are busy gathering out belongings, making sure things won't get wet (I'm making sure my smokes and lighter and tightly sealed in a ziploc bag) for our big disembarkment. We're good to go, all is safe, and we are still heading to shore, finally hopping out of the boat right at at the shore line! (laughter). Our guide guides up to some tables on the beach where we proceed to have the most amazing lunch full of seafood. Most of us get fake tattoos. (When in Mexico...) We have a band playing for us for most of our lunch thanks to I'm not exactly sure who...I'm pretty sure Mike was definitely in on this, not sure who else was paying these guys to play their Mexican music right behind me while I enjoyed my lunch, but thank you. (Once again it's feeling more thank a little surreal). At some point Mike decides he must play the drums. He pays off the drummer to particpate and adds immensley to the entertainment here.

(Mike drummin' with the band on the beach)


(Rhonda getting her "tattoo")









After nice long lazy lunch our bellies are stuffed and the day is coming to an end. It's time to go back to Los Hadas. There is a bit of sadness at leaving this completely perfect day behind. Upon return to the hotel, we size up the damage to the cooler. Yikes! Good thing we had a designated driver! Not wanting the day to quite end, we go directly to the pool. I'm sure the bartender, who was probably happily cleaning up and getting ready to close up, was most thrilled to see us all, as we hopped in the pool to wash off the salt water and ordered ourselves a round of drinks. (note: second speedo appearance occurs here) It was a perfect ending to our perfect day.

This was, by far, the best day of my vacation and one of the best days I have ever had - period. Thank you to Mike, Jeff, Brent, Rhonda, Kyndra, and Cindy for inviting us along. Dave and I both feel lucky to have met such good people and to have had such good times with them. Once again, here's to Hedley and here's to great new friends!

The Mexican Diaries: The (Communal) Speedo

(Photo - Jeffrey! Jeffrey! Jeffrey! That speedo is inside out! Jeffrey! Jeffrey! Jeffrey!)

Okay, I know you are all dying to hear about the infamous communal speedo. But first I would like to note that my last entry (Wasting Away the Days) was my 100th post on this blog! Unfortunately there was no great fanfare, confetti did not fall from my ceiling, there were no bells and game show music and I did not suddenly win a grand prize. So, I'm just giving myself some kudos for writing 100 little antedotes over the past year and a half and shall expect some fanfare from my readers!

But back to the speedo. Ah the speedo. That little garment for men that makes us all wonder why it is still even in production. Unless you are an Olympic swimmer, it seems to me there is no need for the speedo. Men, just let us just use our imaginations to wonder what may lie beneath your shorts. We don't need a full preview while you prance around the beach or pool. Really. We don't. However...

For laughs the speedo can provide much entertainment, as it did in Mexico. First, a bit of background for you all, as to how the speedo came to enter our vacation. Apparently Jeff, known for his love of taking it off after a few drinks, and upon booking his trip to Mexico, decided it would be great fun to prance out to the pool in a speedo one day as if nothing was out of he ordinary, just for kicks and giggles. I guess Jeff realized that although the cost of showing up poolside in a speedo would be priceless, the actual cost of the speedo was, well, not priceless. Enter the Manzanillo Wal Mart. While shopping at Wal Mart one morning (again, priceless itself) Cindy, Kyndra and Rhonda came upon a rack of speedos. Obviously it was meant to be. A speedo was purchased and the rest is history...


First speedo appearance. We are on a boat cruise, hanging out in a quiet little cove, just the 8 of us, floating on floaties and life jackets, empyting an enormous cooler of beer as well as our own mixed cocktails. The speedo is on board. Eventually the speedo is on Jeff (inside out mind you!) and we are getting quite the show (see picture above). There is some initial hamming it up and posing for the camera and then a most graceful dive into our private ocean. Well, you had to be there, but it was indeed hilarious and just plain "eeewwww" all that the same time. No offense Jeff, but those things just don't have any way of being attractive! So, a good laugh all around and the speedo is put away.


Second speedo appearance. We return from our 8 hour boat trip, leaving an empty cooler and no more cocktails. The speedo is with us. We decide that we may as well continue the party poolside (I'm sure to the chagrin of our bartender, who was probably happy to have us gone all day!). At this point Mike decides that he should really try the speedo. Why this is, I'm not quite sure. Is this some sort of secret guy fantasy that I don't know about? Well, on goes the speedo and we get a performance from Mike. The speedo is now taking on a life of it's own.


Third speedo appearance. The speedo now comes everywhere. On Super Bowl day, Steve is being encourage to get the speedo on. A bet is made...if the his team loses, he'll don the speedo. He's confident he's not going to have to put that thing on. Oh, sorry, your team loses (ha ha ha). Speedo time! So, the afternoon after Super Bowl, we are on him with the speedo. He's a bit shy I think and he's resisting. But a bet's a bet and we're not letting him off the hook. So...on goes the speedo and he's in and out the pool and out of that speedo in record time (save for the time spent looking for his wedding ring, which fell off whilst diving into the pool, and which was found, but did take away from the fun of it all).

Everyone is now being encouraged to wear the speedo. Once again, I'm not sure if it is some secret male fantasy or what, but now Dave WANTS to wear the speedo. This is both so wrong and so funny, us girls can't stand it. How many people are going to put this thing on????


Fourth speedo appearance. We have the speedo in our room on the second to last night. Dave really wants to wear this I guess. I'm looking at it thinking this thing has got to be a little rank at this point! But whatever... So on our last day, Dave dons the speedo under his shorts (okay, ya, he's actually wearing this thing for more than a few minutes!) Not to be outdone by anyone, he eventually puts on his own little strip show, flashing the speedo and like the rest of them, posing for the cameras before hitting the water. I look on with utter adornement at my man in a speedo. (you are hearing the sarcasm here, right?).

Eventually the speedo is removed, placed on a lounge chair and left behind as we leave our vacation behind. That poor speedo. I now wonder what has happened to it. Was it tossed away or has it been adopted by other vactioners who, like us, think it is an extremely funny poolside prop? And if it was adopted, how many people have squeezed into it and has anyone at least washed it?

The Mexican Diaries: Wasting Away the Days

Our days in Manzanillo can probably be summed up into just a few words: hot sun, lounge chairs, pool, pina coladas, whiskey sours, pool bar. We are "wasting away in margaritaville" (although nobody seems to be drinking margaritas until dinner).

So Dave and I are our typical selves, sleeping in, getting to the breakfast buffet just in time to get breakfast, which we enjoy on the patio overlooking the pool. We meet up with the Albertans poolside. They've been up for hours and Cindy, Rhonda and Kyndra have already been somewhere, usually it seems into town to Wal Mart. Apparently this is pretty much all to see there. They would end up visiting Wal Mart three times over the course of the trip. Yep...travel all the way down to Manzanillo to your beautiful all inclusive vacation and hit Wal Mart THREE times. (Well where else do you buy a speedo I guess. And oh yes, we were so appreciative of those floaties. And okay, I did feel very special that you made the trip again to get me chocolate and a bra!)

I was lucky enough on our first day at the pool to aquire myself a "pool bitch". Mike unfortunately forgot his cigarettes. I was happy to lend him mine, on the condition that he would have to be my "pool bitch", allowing me to just have Mike get my drinks, light my cigarettes and any other such activities that I was just too lazy to do myself. Well, really, it only consisted of him ordered my drinks and me calling out "hey pool bitch...". I don't think he thought it was as fun as I did...he remembered his cigarettes the next day and I was on my own.

Anyways, the days are spent lounging, splashing in the water, drinking pina coladas, eating the best guacamole I've ever had (lunch is ordered and served to you poolside - like how tough is this life?!!) and having a lot of laughs with our new found friends. Dave is starting on is project "Whiskey Sour Conversion" and I think by the end of the first day he has one or two converts. I have declared pina coladas to be smoothies, and therefore, not really a "drink", making it perfectly acceptable to order them at any time and in any quanitiy. I believe there was complete consenus to this. Mike was genius enough to bring along his iPod system thingy so we had great music all day. Him and Jeff provided great entertainment by chair dancing for all. You probably had to be there, but it was quite funny.

I'm not really sure how to describe just how much fun we were having. No cares in the world, other than "my glass is empty" "should we order a drink here or swim to the pool bar?" "should we get some food?" "it's hot, i'm going in the pool"...you get the picture. We had so many laughs, but I don't think I can adequately describe it all in a way that anyone who wasn't there will actually find funny. So I will let some pictures do the the talking. Unfortunately, I don't know how to make them all line up nicely, so it's just a big line of pics. But hopefully you'll get the point!

The Mexican Diaries: Arrival Part 2

Previously on the Mexican Diaries (insert Keifer Sutherland’s 24 voice)… Okay, just read the previous blog.

As we find our seats on the bus, I'm completely horrified and humiliated as the woman behind me asks if I found my luggage. AAAAGGGGHHHH! Thankfully she doesn't make me feel like a complete heel. I just do that myself in my head. As we’re waiting to leave, who comes stumbling onto the bus? You guessed it…Drunk and Drunker. Now, at the airport in Vancouver I confirmed that they were not staying at the same hotel as us. I am sure they are on the wrong bus. The driver announces at least twice that he will be making ONE stop and that is at the Los Hadas. As Drunk passes by Dave, he suggests to her she is on the wrong bus. She insists she is not. Okay, whatever. On route, she approaches Dave to tell him she thinks we are on the wrong bus. Uh, no honey. We are on the right bus. You are on the wrong one. The point of all this…we arrive at the hotel and later learn that Drunk and Drunker are at the opposite end of Manzanillo from their hotel and the bus ain’t going there. They’ll have to take a cab. I find this hilarious.

At the hotel we decide we aren’t waiting in line to check in. What’s the rush? It’s not like our room is going anywhere. We see Cindy and her entourage in the lobby bar and are invited over. Introductions made, margaritas ordered and we’ve made our new friends. Our vacation is off to a fun and fabulous start!

Eventually we all go to check in. We find out Rhonda and Mike and Cindy and Brent are not only on our floor, but right beside us. Excitement all around! (How old are we?) Kyndra and Jeff are in a whole other part of the hotel. This will not do! We’re telling them they must get their room changed with the urgency of a parent who may have lost their child. They have to be right near us! (Do they even want to be near us?) They get their room changed and we are all happy to be living side by side for the next week. (Like we’d never find each other again!) We hop a taxi to our building. Yes, our hotel has taxis, should we not want to exert too much energy and walk to our room (there are many, many stairs – it’s like Portugal all over again!) These taxis also come in handy should someone (for example Jeffrey!) be too drunk to find the room. We unpack and meet for dinner.

There is nothing more perfect than sitting at a table far away from home, with a warm breeze blowing, overlooking the ocean, hearing the waves lap up against the shore and enjoying many laughs with some really great people. I can’t even explain the whole figuring out how to get food situation (Do we just pick from the samples up at the salad bar place, is there a menu? Can we actually have a menu? Oh, we are getting a menu. Yes, we’ll have another round of drinks. Okay, are we actually getting a menu? More bread. Soup. Okay let’s just pick something from the samples. Can we order? Sure we’ll have more drinks.) Anyways…it’s a long dinner but lot’s of fun. I think we are all exhausted from our long day and we say goodnight and look forward to our first real day tomorrow.

The Mexican Diaries: Arrival Part 1

After our delay in Vancouver and what seemed like an endless flight full of screaming children, we arrive in Manzanillo. I have learned once and for all that flying makes me aggitated...I'm stuck in a small space, it's impossible to get comfortable, I can't concentrate, I can't smoke, I don't like the food, I'm hungry, I'm anxious to get to my destination and did I mention those screaming children? Although I tried taking a Clonazepam AND a Gabapentin (these are supposed to take care of my anxiety), I realize that what I really need for flying is Ativan and perhaps a small dose of Seroquel. Yes, I have learned a lesson: I need to be drugged up for flying. Anyways....

We arrive. We step off the plane into the warm Mexican sunshine. Nice. It is here that Dave's celebrity catches up with him as Cindy approaches to confirm if he is, in fact "Duke" (his Hedley tour days nickname). Cindy and Dave met at a Hedley concert a few years ago. Okay, how small is this world??? A bit of chit chat and we get into an incredibly long line to enter the airport. We are outside and I am so ready for that smoke. But I guess smoking on or near the tar mac is not allowed. AAAAGGGHHHH! I'm getting restless. (And yes I know, I should just quit).

As we are approaching the terminal, I can see that we are actually waiting to get into a room about what feels like the size of my living room, where our baggage is being not only unloaded onto the conveyor but piled up in corners for us to find. Us and 500 other people. It is pretty much total chaos. If I was agitated on the plane, well, by now I'm just plain fried. I think Dave is on the verge of disowning me. Of course Dave finds his bag with little difficulty. I, on the other hand, cannot find mind. I have now completely lost it and I am yelling and cursing like the lady that I am. Dave is definitely not speaking to me now. I give up, angrily resigning myself to the fact that I will be stuck wearing the same clothes all night. We get in line to go through Customs. Then suddenly Dave spots my bag, which has miraculously just appeared on the conveyor all by itself (even though I had just searched the whole damn room high and low!) I retreive it, and get back in line with Dave just in time to slide through Customs with a green light.

Outside, we light up our cigarettes and agree to a do-over. I'm here and my agitation has thankfully vanished into the hot air. Once again, Dave's patience and love is astounding and I am so grateful for it. We are pointed to the bus that will take us to our hotel (oh please don't let there be anyone on this bus that saw my outburst in the airport!) Outside said bus, like an oasis in the desert - a cooler full of cold Coronas. Oh ya! We'll take two.

To be continued...

The Mexican Diaries: The Players

Before I wow you with stories of our grand adventures in Manzinillo, I thought I should introduce the characters in these stories. Think of it as a sort of who's who of the Los Hadas Resort. Plus I don't want to have to explain who they are every time I mention their names. So...of course you all know me, the leading lady. With me you all know Dave. Who also became known as "Girlfriend" for somehow becoming one of the girls. (I'm quickly working on showing him back to his own side). Now enter the Albertans. Cindy is a Hedley fan and spotted Dave on the plane, making the quick introduction as we disembarked said plane in Manzanillo. (Here's to Hedley!!!). Brent is Cindy's husband. I became aware of Brent on the plane sitting a row ahead of me and flipping through a magazine filled with pictures of guns, at which point I urgently pointed him out to Dave and hoped he wasn't planning to blow our plane up. (Boy did I feel silly!) Brent is also known as David Suzuki because he is constantly reading and I gather knows a lot. Cindy and Brent live in Strathmore, somewhere close to Calgary. Mike is Brent's brother and is married to the lovely Rhonda, who also sometimes goes by Ginger and Sandra (she looks like Sandra Bullock) and may possibly like attention more than me. (can you believe it???). Apparently Mike is quite quiet, although his alter ego must have been out to play because he certainly wasn't a wallflower. They live in Medicine Hat. The final stars of these stories are Kyndra and Jeff (also known as "Jeffrey! Jeffrey! Jeffrey!" - think Bill Cosby) who are long time friends of the above noted. Kyndra is as adventurous as me (read: hmmm, what's that food; i'm not sure about snorkelling, etc.) and Jeff loves speedos. He really does. They also live in Medicine Hat. Finally, I shall introduce Steve and Cassandra, a lovely couple from Langely whom Dave and I met at the airport. Both very sweet, I think they may have been a little scared and intimidated by the rest of us, and therefore, are not present in many of the fantastic stories I know you are all dying to hear.

So...just so you've got it, the who's who of Los Hadas Resort, Manzanillo, Mexico: Me, Dave (aka Girlfriend), Cindy, Brent (aka David Suzuki), Mike, Rhonda (aka Ginger or Sandra), Kyndra and Jeff (aka Jeffrey! Jeffrey! Jeffrey!). And cameo appearances go to Steve and Cassandra. There we go. I guess I better start producing some stories.

The Mexican Diaries - Drunk and Drunker

Well, we are back from our week in the sun and I don't even know where to begin. Therefore, instead of making you read one big long lengthy blog (although I know you all would) I shall instead give you little individual stories. This will also hopefully allow my memory of it all to come back! So, first off, we haven't even left YVR yet (refer to my previous blog as to why) and there is a bit of entertainment.

Dave and I are sitting by our gate, waiting for the damn plane to arrive from Calgary when we see two people beelining toward us in a stumbling sort of way. They approach and fall (and I do mean fall) into the two seats beside us. They are a brother and sister duo who I shall refer to as Drunk (the sister) and Drunker (the brother). I do want to note here that upon arriving in Mexico, we met many people who knew exactly who these two were. Anyways...Drunk is trembling with anxiety and looks like a nervous wreck, telling us she has never been on vacation, she is worrying about flying,and generally does not know how it all works (listen to the announcements lady!) while at the same time trying to keep Drunker's voice to an inside volume. Drunker all out drunk. Like ugly, obnoxious drunk. And he's loudly yapping at Dave, asking him why he's not drinking, as Dave tries very hard to ignore him. Drunker proudly tells us he arrived at the airport, bought a bottle at Duty Free and drank it. This is fairly obvious from the stench of liquor coming off of him. They are both slurrily trying to involve us in conversation. I politely suggest to Drunker that he might want to put some mint gum in his mouth or he may be staying put. Why I get myself involved in a conversation like that, I don't know. I now think Drunker may assault me and I take it all back, now having Drunker want to hug me. All the while Drunk is trying to insit that Drunker should eat a burger. I do manage to thankfully ascertain that we are not seated near them. This whole thing is both sad and entertaining at the same time. Dave and I finally manage to extract ourselves from their presence to get another Starbuck's. Which I'm not sure either of us really wanted, but I was pretty sure Drunker wasn't interested in coffee.

We come back to the gate, place ourselves away from Drunk and Drunker with another young couple and start making bets on whether this guy is getting on the plane. I figure there is no way this guy is going to be allowed to board. The four of us decide to wait to the end so we can watch what we are sure will be a show. So we sit and wait. People board. More people board. Last call for boarding. Damn it! Drunk and Drunker seem to be waiting for our cue (Drunk is literally holding Drunker up). So we board. We still all figure there is no way this guy is getting on the plane. His frail looking little sister can barely hold him up for God's sakes!

But wouldn't you know it...as we're settling in our seats, there they are. Walking right past their own seats, obviously confused before figuring out they have walked way past their seats. We take off. We're flying. I figure Drunker must have passed out. As I take a walk to the front of the plane part way through our flight I see him, still yammering away to some poor souls who drew the short straw and got seated beside him.

Now I realize this may not be the most entertaining story of our trip, but if you can just imagine two really drunk people who haven't got a clue as to what's going on, it really was funny. And of course, sad. And I just had to tell it.