It's Serendipitous

"Serendipity. Look for something, find something else, and realize that what you've found is more suited to your needs than what you thought you were looking for." Lawrence Block

My favourite word is serendipity. I love this word both for the way it rolls off my tongue and for its meaning...making an unexpected and desirable discovery by accident; it is chance, happenstance, fate, kismet, luck, good fortune, coincidence, karma, providence, destiny, tripping upon, fortuitousness, a random occurrence, an overall greater force influencing our lives. I love coming upon serendipitous experiences in my life - and I do come upon them frequently. As I am learning to live my life day to day, with a limited ability to truly plan out my future, my only hope is that destiny and fate will take care of me, and so these serendipitous moments serve as my confirmation that the world is in order.


So, that is the background on serendipity. After many years of considering an everlasting piece of art on my body, it is this word that I feel is destined to be permanently etched into my skin. And after two years of bugging Dave to design said body art, and having thrown in the idle threat on our vacation to Mexico last year that I was getting it done before my 37th birthday, with or without his design help, I finally have a draft of my new tattoo! Needless to say I'm very excited and can't wait to finalize the art so I can go brave the needle of the tattoo artist! I may even have to get my belly button re-pierced while I'm at it!

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"Serendipity is putting a quarter in the gumball machine and having three pieces come rattling out instead of one—all red." Peter H. Reynolds

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"--- you don't reach Serendib by plotting a course for it. You have to set out in good faith for elsewhere and lose your bearings… serendipitously." John Barth, The Last Voyage of Somebody the Sailor

What's It All About?

The holidays can be a frenzied, stressfull time for many. Take a moment to think about what it's really all about.

Years ago my parents had an annual Christmas Eve open house. It was a pretty big affair, with their friends, my friends, my brother’s friends, our friends’ parents…anyone who wanted to stop by for some Christmas cheer and, of course, to admire our Christmas tree. Entrance required everyone to stop and say “that’s the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen”. It was festive, food and drinks flowed and Loret usually ended up performing whatever dance move was in that year. I believe the Macarena was her best performance! I loved these parties. It was a house full of laughter and fun. Even if you hated Christmas, you couldn’t help but get into the spirit of Christmas. I am so thankful to my parents for throwing these parties year after year; creating a tradition that everyone looked forward to.

But the best thing about these parties came later in the night, when everyone would quiet down and each person would share what they were most grateful for that year. We would sit around the living room and fill the air with our gratitude. Listening to a room full of people give thanks for something in their lives is incredibly powerful. I think that my mom is a genius for creating this tradition…it was a reminder to all that we all have something to be grateful for and it was inspiring to hear other people share their gratitude.

But, things change, times change, and traditions can’t always remain forever. It doesn’t take a Christmas party or a room full of people to stop and take stock of the blessings in our lives. It is both empowering and humbling. And it feels wonderful if you can find someone to share your gratitude with.

So, it goes like this… I am most grateful for:

 Dave’s enduring love and support and willingness to do the unconventional rather than walk away from our relationship;
 Loret taking me into her home when I couldn’t find an affordable place to live;
 The support team that surrounds my nephew Markus;
 The understanding and generosity of my friends;
 All of the laughter Dave and I share;
 Having doctors who have not given up on me;
 Having family who love and support me;
 Getting to go to Mexico – twice!!!
 My health (ya, I know that one sounds crazy!)
 Living exactly where I want to live – by the ocean and the mountains
 Always having my basic needs met – a roof over my head, food in my belly, clothes on my back;
 Somehow always having faith that things will always work out for me.

Okay, so you get the point…I have soooooo much to be grateful for, more than I have shared here. I hope this will inspire people to stop and think about what it’s really all about, during the holidays and all throughout the year.

Compromises

In any relationship, as in life, there are always compromises and sacrifices to be made. No relationship is ever perfect (that would just be plain boring!!!) and I believe we are always working to find a balance that allows us to maintain our own integrity and that of our partner's. Since nobody is perfect, we will always have to accept both good and bad in our partner. We all have our lists of what we want, what we are willing to give, what we are willing to concede, what we are willing to let go of and what we will hold firm to. Some of these things are big. Some are small. In any event, if a relationship is going to be successful, each person in it will give and take and hopefully will work together to find the balance that is right for their relationship.

I love Dave to death, but he is not perfect. Dave loves me back equally, and we all know I'm not perfect. I love Dave for everything that he is and I think he loves me back the same. And so we both accept many of each other's annoying little habits. For example, I accept that he leaves heaps of clothing on the bedroom floor. I accept that he leaves coffee grinds all over the kitchen counter. I accept that he will always come home from Costco with something that we don't really need, and will happily accept that that is our money spent. I accept that he likes to leave things until the last possible minute. Just as I accept these trivial yet annoying little traits, he accepts that I leave my tea bags lying around on the counter (on a dish mind you!!!). He accepts that I like to eat in bed which means I will often fall asleep with whatever I'm eating, creating a bit of a mess. He accepts the massive pile of shoes I leave at the door, even though I'm not wearing most of them. He accepts that I take up 90% of the bathroom while leaving little space for his stuff. These are just but a few of those little things.

There are always larger things we have to comprise on, battles we have to pick and choose and things we just have to let go of. If we hold on to all our ideals about a relationship, I believe we will be left alone. And so every relationship is different. What I can accept in my partner, someone else can not look past. What I cannot look past may not be important to someone else. We try different things in our relationships as we search for ways to maintain that balance between self and unity with another. The picture is unique for everyone. And it almost always does not look the same from the outside as it does from within.

And so it is that Dave and I have reached a compromise of sorts in our relationship. Our biggest challenge by far, the one big thing that impacts our relationship to the greatest extent is my illness. It is hard to describe what it looks like to live with someone like me. Because people generally see me when I am feeling good or pretending to feel good, it is difficult to understand the multiple nuances of my illness and how it impacts both Dave and I on a daily basis - individually and as a couple. It is ever present and exhausting for both of us. Dave loves me despite it and accepts me with it. The sacrifices and compromises he has made because of it are enormous. But sometimes such sacrifices can become too much and other options must be considered. And so it is that we have come to the conclusion that if we continue to live under the same roof, this illness will destroy us. The only way we can see to maintain our relationship is to live apart. Someone asked me "But if you really love someone, don't you want to do anything to make it work?" To which I answered "Yes. We have. And we are. This is what we are doing to make it work." We are sacrificing our desire to live together because we are not willing to sacrifice our desire to be together. It might look strange from the outside, but it makes sense from the inside.

All Was Not Lost...

I guess my last post was a little on the depressing side. And being that I like to maintain a "glass is half full" attitude, I figure I really should make note that while yes, my health did suck for quite some time, there were in fact many bright spots in my summer. It's quite amazing how my perspective can get lost and then be so easily found once my mood is under control! So, epic battle between me and Bipolar aside, here is my revised essay on What I Did On My Summer Vacation.

Undoubtedly the best thing this summer was spending lots of time with my niece and nephew. My brother found himself a great job that gives him weekends off and therefore much time to trek out to the city with my sister-in-law and the kids. Much time was spent at the beach chasing birds, picking up shells and searching for sea life of all sorts (unfortunately we were unable to find stingrays swimming close to shore, although this did not stop my nephew from persevering in his quest!). To me the best thing about meeting at the beach was the "big greet". Like a scene in a movie, as I walked towards the kids they would spot me and completely freak out, arms waving, madly running towards me and jumping into my arms. There is nothing like that kind of love to make you feel good! On top of our beach days together, I played super aunty and had the kids overnight (one at a time!!). Markus is an old pro but this was Katie's first sleepover here and she was fabulous. Highlights: making pancakes with Katie and taking Markus to a 3D Imax movie about sea creatures. Watching him with his big glasses, reaching out for the fish was priceless.

Another top highlight was a surprise visit from the Colonel and Shelley. You will remember that I met Al (the Colonel) and Shelley while in Mexico in March. What a fantastic treat to get a message from the Colonel one day saying they were in town. Well, when the Colonel calls, that's it! I called back, found out they were sitting at the Sandbar (literally across the water from me on Granville Island) and was thrilled to go and join them for a drink. These are two of the most wonderful people I have ever met...warm, fun, full of life. It was just wonderful to get to see them and I was touched that they made time in their short trip to B.C. to make a point of calling.

Also topping the highlight list was the Jack Johnson concert. My mom, brother and sister-in-law had planned to go together, but at the last minute Dave and Helga were unable to come. Mom and I went on without them, Loret even playing scalper to sell the extra two tickets!! (I was so impressed...she was quite the shark!) So she and I took in this AMAZING concert on a beautiful night at UBC. What can I say...I love a man with a guitar. Especially a hot man life Jack. Sigh.

Other highlights include pigging out at the PNE; catching all the amazing fireworks displays; getting in my fair share of time at the beach and thus maintaining a lovely sunkissed glow; having a wonderfully long visit and catch up with my granny, who I had neglected to see for much too long while feeling like crap, despite the fact that she just lives over the bridge in North Vancouver; seeing our friends Justin and Lisa who live in Toronto (but have come to their senses and are soon to be moving back!!!); starting to run again (slowly but surely); and most importantly, starting to wake up every morning feeling like a human being, with a life and everything in me!!! I am sure I am probably forgetting something at the moment, but you get the point...all was not lost on my summer vacation. In fact, it actually looks pretty good, doesn't it?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Since it's back to school time, I thought I'd write a little essay about my summer vacation. I remember when I was in my primary years we would draw a picture about our summer vacation and the teacher would write a little sentence and that was it. If I could draw a picture here (or if I could draw period for that matter!) it would probably look something like this: Me at the bottom of the page, very small, wearing big boxing gloves. In from of me a ladder. Above me, hovering over me, trying to overcome me, dark menacing clouds with lightning bolts going every which way, striking fast and furious. Me on the ladder, me falling off the ladder, me on the ladder, me falling off the ladder. Some indication that this up and down the ladder repeated itself over and over and over until finally I was able to reach the top and start the real fight...slowly punching those menacing clouds away, striking the lightening bolts aside until finally there is a sun shining. This is my picture and underneath it I would write "I had an epic battle with a demon called Bipolar. It was kicking my ass for awhile but in the end I kicked it's sorry ass to the curb!"

Yes, most of my summer was spent cycling (and I don't mean on a bike!) like mad, being ultra irritable, irrational, and just plain awful to be around, alternating between utter depression and despondency and not being able to bear another minute of the madness in my head, along with being completely doped up and feeling rather out of it (hence my long absence from here). Sigh. It was a long haul this time - 3 more months of my life taken by my formidable opponent, leaving some battle scars to both me and Dave in its wake. However, in the end I have prevailed, as I always somehow seem to do, and have left this latest battle behind. Gone but not forgotten, once again I now start to claim my life back. And man, do I need a vacation!!!

Vacation - And We Don't Even Have to Get Away

On "vacation" - we thought the Burrard Bridge in the background was cute.

There are many reasons I love living in Vancouver. I could go on and on about them all. But I won't subject you all to that, especially those stuck living in places that seem utterly dreadful to my spoilt eyes and whom I can only assume long to live in a place such as this. I certainly don't want to offend any readers! I think anyone who knows me well knows that THE reason I left the wonderful City of Abbotsford, known for it's rasperberries, airshow, over-abundance of churches, and weekly gro-op busts (I know, it was such a difficult decision!) is the ocean. Living by the seashore. The ocean is such a powerful force, both calming and violent. Perhaps I am attracted to it's polarities. Small waves lapping on the shore can lull you sleep. A strong current can catch you and sweep you out to sea. The more time I spend near the ocean, the less likely I see myself living away from it. I need it near me.

And with the ocean, of course, comes the beach. And with the beach comes, well, vacation. Again, if you know me, you know I love the sun and I love being in the sun and laying at the beach is very high on my list of things I love to do. I accept every single drop of rain, miserable as it can be, for the days when the sun shines, the temperatures rise and my own neighbourhood begins to feel like a vacation spot. If we are lucky and the sun shines for months on end, well, I feel like I'm living on vacation. And that is how it was a couple weeks ago. Dave and I packed up our bag, walked half a block out the back door and found ourselves a place beach.

And for an entire afternoon we played vacation. We could have been on a beach almost anywhere.
I couldn't help but think, as I often do, "people pay to come here for a vacation, and I get to enjoy this any time I want!" We are so lucky. The entire afternoon could be captured as one of those moments where you can't help but think "it just doesn't get any better than this".

Jimmy Legs

I got myself a case of the "Jimmy legs" tonight. You know, those restless legs that led to the demise of one of Kramer's relationships. I'm sure you've seen the ads for some medication to treat it on TV. Well, it's one of the delights (read with HEAVY sarcasm) I get to experience from time to time thanks to my chemically imbalanced brain. Restless legs. How uncomfortable can it be? I had no idea it was even a real medical condition until I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I actually laughed when my doctor told me what I was describing was restless legs. Well, let me tell you, it is un-fricking-comfortable! My legs don't want to stop moving. Literally. Sometimes I have to hold my legs down to stop them from moving. I am not kidding here people. It is frustrating and ridiculous. It spreads throughout me, making me feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. It really is a most incredibly uncomfortable feeling. A different kind of pain. Relief only comes when I'm vigorously moving my legs - kicking them, pacing around the apartment, jumping up and down. Even then, it's brief before the restlessness kicks in again. Well, I can also take some Seroquel, but we all know I hate Seroquel, so I leave it until I can no longer bear it. At the moment I'm still waiting for some relief on that front (my faith in said drug skyrocketing - dripping sarcasm now). And so it is while I'm leaning on the kitchen counter, jumping up and down and kicking my legs from side to side that Dave (oops - forgot he was there; I try not to do this in his presence) commented that with my outfit - old, worn out, green capri sweat pants with black dress socks - I looked like a crack addict waiting for my next fix. To which I laughed - a good sign on the mood front. I did snap at my boss first thing this morning for no real reason so I am on the look out for irritability!

Well, I'd love to continue ranting about how irritated and uncomfortable I am, but my legs are trying to get up and jump around and apparently I must oblige them.

Celebrity Status

I believe I may have somehow crossed the line from regular gal to celebrity. No, I haven't become a reality TV star and I haven't suddenly lost 30 pounds, purchased a minature dog and made a sex tape with Dave that "accidentally" hit the internet. But I did just find out that I have a fan club. And I'm pretty sure that to have a fan club, you have to have fans. And well, if you have fans, doesn't that usually mean you're known for something? Like well known? Like a celebrity. The Merrium-Webster's definition of celebrity is "the state of being celebrated" or "a famous or celebrated" person. The definition of fan is "an enthusiastic devotee (as of a sport or a performing art) usually as a spectator" and "an ardent admirer or enthusiast (as of a celebrity or a pursuit"). I believe I have made my case.

So what about this fan club, you're wondering? How did I get a fan club? And what does this fan club do? Well, for those of you who are familiar with Facebook, a group has been created in my honour (well really, in honour of my blog) on Facebook. It is the "Angela Simpson Blog Fan Club". Facebook users can join this all important group and chat about me and my blog. For those of you who are not familiar with Facebook, well, ask your child, grandchild, or the kid who lives next door to explain it. Anyways, my friend (and apparent ardent fan!) Lisa Riley and Dave put this together way back in March. I just discovered it today. I know... you can't believe it's taken me this long. How could I, seeker of praise, recognition, and general ego boosting of all types, not know she has a fan club?

Well, today, after having a huge fight with the machine that loads money onto my laundry card (enabling me to use the machines and thus dry the wet laundry that I had) and losing to said machine; and then being told by the service people that they might be able to get to fixing it on Tuesday (um, hello!!! I have a couple loads of wet laundry here and other clothing I'd like to wash before then!) I was feeling bitter, edgy and really like I could just lose it. Okay, not the end of the world, but for whatever reason, it got me all agitated. I was sitting at my computer, trying to cut my 1,100 word essay into 400 - 500 words, but really just feeling agitated and like lighting up a smoke, when, Dave pulled this pick me up out of his hat. Bless Dave. For managing to ignore my disproportiate rage at the laundry machine thing and for finding a way to cheer me up.

He directed me to his Facebook page, and then to his groups, where I saw it - the "Angela Simpson Blog Fan Club". I clicked on it, and there it was! There were some pictures of me. The link to my blog (obviously!!). Some comments about the fact that I was oblivious to the group's existance. And 24 members! Some of these people I don't even know! I was, of course, reduced to tears at this fact. And that Lisa and Dave had taken the time to create the group. And that anyone would really care that much about what I write on my blog. Especially people I don't even know. It certainly lifted my spirits and makes me feel incredibly special.

Which leads me back to my celebrity status. After shedding tears and being reduced to mush inside, I bounced back with an inflating head and the realization that having a fan club certainly made me special and really, probably was grounds for celebrity status (refer back to definitions of celebrity and fan noted above). Not to worry though, I will not forget where I have come from or the people I have met along the way, I will try to answer every piece of fan mail (I should expect fan mail, yes?), and if I ever write that book everyone in my fan club will get a free signed copy.

Now, I've got to go practice thinking like a celebrity! I wonder if I should have Dave make up t-shirts or something? Hmmm....

Ah Summer...

Aaahhh summer. As if on cue (it is the May long weekend, which in my world signifies the beginning of long hot days) summer seems to have arrived. After days, weeks, months of rain and grey, dreary days, the sun came out, sweaters came off and it is as if it has never rained a day. Suddenly it feels like I'm on vacation...sun + warm weather + beach in my backyard = vacation. And I can only hope that we have now put the past year of miserable weather behind us and I can spend the next four months living like I'm on permanent vacation...aaah patios and cold drinks, bbq's (okay, I will admit, I am enjoying our big bbq and my patio), and of course, the beach.

There is something about summer in the city that gives me a hazy sense of carefree-ness, like I really am on some vacation. Maybe it's suddenly being surrounded by all the people that are actually on vacation (can you believe people pay to spend time here while I just get to live it?!!). Maybe it's the change in energy. Maybe it's the notion that being close to the water somehow equates with vacation. Maybe it's just the fact that I can walk out my door and in less than a minute be soaking up the rays. Whatever the case, I will take the all the rain in the world for even just one day like today. Because when the sun shines, you really do forget it ever rained. It's like my brain. When I'm depressed the world is all dark and misery, but just one high day and all those miserable thoughts are all but forgotten. Interesting. Perhaps I'll ponder this more tomorrow while I'm kicked back on the beach. Or not. I will likely just be kicked back on the beach patting myself on the back for choosing to live in such a beautiful city! Oh ya.

My Words In Print!

It's official...I am having a piece of writing published! (insert cheers, oohs, ahs, etc.) Okay, not it's not like I'm having an article published in the New Yorker or even that rag 24 for that matter. But I will have a little piece published in the next edition of Balance - the Mood Disorders Association's newsletter. In the April edition I noticed they were seeking submissions from readers. Finally! I immediately answered the call, sending in my bit which you've all read here - "Only Crazy Knows Crazy". I got an email the same day from the editor who said she would like to include it in the next newsletter (it is published every two months) and would contact me closer to the deadline. I was beyond thrilled!!! Like you would think the New Yorker had called!

Yesterday I received an email from the editor advising me my piece is 1,100 words and it needs to be 400 - 500 words. So, can I cut it in half? Aaahhh... my first real taste of having an editor! Whatever! She could have told me to write a sentence and I would have - I want to see my words in real print on paper! And glossy paper for that matter! So I will work on saying what I originally said in 1,100 words in 500 words and await to see what it looks like in a newsletter that people all across B.C. will read!

And of course, I have to add some of my editor's comments (notice that she is now "my" editor...I am definitely feeling like a "real" writer!) because, well, that is what the little narcissist in me likes to do!

Comments From The Editor:

"I will understand if you think you cannot shorten your piece...but I'd sure like it if you could. I really do want your voice heard and I love your story Ange."

".....because it so eloquently speaks to the shame, embarrassment or fear we have faced when "coming out" as someone with a mood disorder."

"I love your piece Ange and we can work together a bit to make it represent your experience but in 500 words."

HOW COOL IS THAT???????

For more information about the Mood Disorders Association of B.C. - check out www.mdabc.net. Members are mailed copies of the newsletter, but I believe you can also find them in hospital psych wards if you would like to find a copy when it comes out. (laughing out loud here - unless you actually have to attend a psych ward, I advise you not to go there) Of course I will be trying to get my hands on a few copies and will of course post the article as it will appear in the newsletter once I've done editing it.

Next up...I think I'm going to try to send in something to BP Magazine (A national magazine focussing on mood disorders - info found at www.bphope.ca).

Well, I must go check my email - perhaps my editor is trying to get in touch with me! :)

Something, Anything...

If anybody is still bothering to check this, here it is...a long awaited post. You are probably expecting to read fun and entertaining stories about my trip to Puerto Vallarta, since that is where I last left off. While I have some bits and pieces drafted, I just wasn't able to put it all together when I came home. I blame it on a combination of being too busy working the first few weeks immediately after I returned home (my December resolve to stop working all together obviously was still out the window) and writers' block, which I am blaming on my psychiatrist for the medication cocktail he insists I take (I have to blame someone!!!). I promise details of the trip will come in time. For now, I can tell you that the highlights were meeting our trip-mates Shelley, Al, and James; cruising high above the jungle on a zipline; having guacomole made fresh for us at our table at Pipi's; and Andales, a tiny bar where Betty served up shooters plus and we danced our asses off to everything from Al's favourite "Alice, Alice, Who the F--- is Alice?" (I don't know if this is the actual name of the song, but you know what I'm talking about) to "The Twist" and everything in between. It was like Jack FM on crack and no doubt the best little bar I've ever been to. Sigh. I'm sure there are many more highlights, I just can't rustle them up right now.

So what's going on now? Well, I'm not working much at all. April seemed busy and still that writers' block. Sometimes my mind wanders around words to write but I can't get them on the page. It's not like there's no subject matter. There is a plethora of subject matter! Dave and I had two absolutely fabulous ski trips to Whistler. Dave had a birthday. Dave quit smoking. I have now quit smoking. (yes, you read that correctly!) And of course there are numerous little things that go on that I could turn into pages (ie. the lovely but ginormous BBQ that now takes up what seems to be half my patio space, ruling out a herb garden (Dave I love you); the crows that continue to mess up said patio by dropping everything from shells to cigarette butts on it; the wonderful new patio set I have from which to enjoy the most beautiful sunsets; just to name a few more recent ones). But everytime I thought to write something, I couldn't. Then my mood took one of its usual little crashes so the thought of even waking up, let alone writing was too much. Now as I'm coming out of that fog, and needing to fill time that was previously spent smoking, I figured I should just start typing. Don't think. Don't try to write. Just write. Something. Anything. They say that is what you are supposed to do. I guess it works. Or at least helps. I've got two paragraphs and can now post something! As George Constanza once said, "I'm back baby! I'm back!" (I hope, I more meekly say).

Oh, Mexico... (Arrival)

(Finally...Me and Maj toast to the beginning of our vacation)

Arriving in Puerto Vallarta, we are both tired from the day of travelling and anxious and excited to get to our hotel, check in and get this vacation started. As we exit customs, looking for our bus, we somehow find ourselves at a counter talking to someone about what we are going to do in Puerto Vallarta. We tell him we already have plans - we are going to El Eden to zip line over the jungle and we are going on a boat cruise to snorkel. He starts to pull out information on said activities, as well as giving us a bit of the "what's the what" in P.V. While Maj is engaged in this conversation, I am only half listening as I'm really thinking about getting outside for a cigarette. Eventually I can't stand it anymore and say that we will need to come back - I really need a smoke. Oh right, I'm in Mexico. Smoke wherever you want. Another agent makes me an ashtray out of a brochure (I'm not kidding), so I settle in and listen. Actually, he's giving us some good general information while trying to make a deal.

Okay, so the bottom line is that we can have our zip line tour and our boat cruise for $40 each. This is saving us at least $120 each. Along with this fantastic deal, we will get a voucher for a taxi directly to our hotel (instead of having to take the bus, which stops at a few hotels), and we are invited to have brunch and spend the day at some shi shi hotel the following day. You know, just to check it out, so maybe next time we come to Puerto Vallarta we will book there. I'm feeling skeptical - what's the catch? No catch. How long is brunch? He assures us that we'll have a nice brunch for 45 minutes and then maybe spend 45 minutes looking around this fancy hotel. Then we can spend the afternoon by the pool there, no strings attached. "Don't even bring a towel" he says.

Okay, I know, it has TIMESHARE written all over it. But at the time, this is not clicking with either of us. Or maybe only half clicking. We are thinking - good deal for the activities we want to do and why not spend the day at some shi shi hotel pool? We take the deal, give him our money and agree to meet him outside our hotel the following morning, and he will take us to the fancy hotel (Mayan something - I can't remember the name). He is adamant that we not tell anyone at our hotel that we purchased our activities from him (yes, I know, another TIMESHARE sign!) But We're just like, "okay, whatever, let's just get out of here". So, off we go to get our taxi (which was free). Maj is stopped by our tour person and given a package of information which, by the way, upon check in to our room was put in the safe and never looked at again until removal from said safe upon check out. Later that night in bed I realize what we're doing the following day and I say to Maj "It's a timeshare thing." "Yep," she says. AAAGGHH! Oh well. We figure we'll have a nice brunch and it will be nice to spend the day at a fancy pool.

When we get to our hotel and finally check in, we're given a room on the ground floor, which we're not thrilled about, but apparently they are booked full, so we have no choice. Okay. Off to our room. It has one bed. Okay. I am not about to wreck our friendship by making Maj endure the way I sleep. We need two beds. Maj gets on the phone to the front desk. I go outside to smoke. Next door two young guys were walking into their room at the same time as us. I think to myself "I wonder if they have two beds? Maybe they would trade rooms?" So, I knock on their patio, see that they have two beds and ask if they would consider trading rooms. I am laughed at. I mean, LAUGHED AT! Well, okay, but I figure it doesn't hurt to ask!

I report back to Maj my attempt at finding us a different room. She reports that there is nothing the hotel can do tonight, but that we can check tomorrow afternoon. But we aren't going to be here tomorrow - we're going to be brunching and lounging at the other hotel. As we contemplate what to do, our phone rings. Apparently there is a couple who want to change rooms. The woman has asthma and some kind of chemical smell is bothering her in her room. Do we care about a chemical smell? Uh, no. We need two beds. We don't care what the room smells like! So, back to the front desk we go, arrange the switch, and then back to our new room. We can't smell anything. We laugh because we think the guys who were next to us are going to be loud. Despite being on the ground level, we're happy and we unpack and settle in before heading out in search of food. We eat, we relax and have a drink in the Lobby Lounge, we toast to being on vacation and call it a night so we can rise early for our day at the fancy hotel. As you will later find out, we were obviously delirious or delusional or something. But then, it's all part of our P.V. adventure and makes for a good story to tell.

Oh, Mexico... (Departure)

After turning into la grande bitch on my last flight to Mexico, I wanted to ensure that this time I would remain calm, cool and collected. I mean, it's one thing to fly with Dave and know he'll manage me, but I really didn't want to make Maj suffer through any possible mood swing on this flight. We did review what to do "just in case" (I believe her plan was to pretend she wasn't with me) and while she contemplated sitting as far away from me as possible, I assured her that I had what it takes for a happy flight: Drugs. So it was, with my sedating friends Ativan and Seroquel in my bag, that we headed off to YVR on a Saturday morning, so excited we could hardly contain ourselves.

(Here: our non existent line up)
Our departure could not have gone any smoother. Upon arriving at the airport, we picked up our tickets and headed to check in. And it is here that I got to experience being an "Elite" traveller. Which is waaaay better than being a regular traveller. I mean WAAAAAY better. It seems that Maj, with all her travelling, has some sort of "Elite Status" with Air Canada, and this great little card that skips you through line ups and puts you in nice lounges with free stuff. So, we bypassed the regular folk in the long line up and casually sauntered up to the "Elite" counter, sans line up.
Nice! Check in was smooth, until I realized that the DVD player was still in my suitcase, which was already on the conveyor, heading to wherever it goes to be loaded on the plane. Not wanting to risk no TVs on the back of the seats, we really needed that DVD player! The agent told me I was free to get it, so there I was, climbing the conveyor to retrieve said DVD player. Funny yes. But I think it sort of gave away the fact that I am not actually an "Elite" traveller. Oh well. (Above: line for the regular folk)

With our bags checked we hung out for as long as I needed a smoke (I wasn't making the mistake of going through security too early again!). And then it was on to the Air Canada Lounge. Okay, I clearly need to up my travelling status! Free food, free bar, free magazines and newspapers. Instead of sitting at the terminal in some uncomfortable chair, anxiously awaiting for them to call my flight, I'm sitting in a private lounge, in a cozy lounge chair, eating a nice lunch (Italian Wedding Soup - can you believe it??) and enjoying a nice gin and tonic. Did I mention this is all free? I'm sure my overflowing excitement about being there gave away the fact that I didn't really belong there, but that's okay. I intended to enjoy every minute of it. I'm sure Maj thought I was a geek, as she kept her head in a magazine!

Eventually it was time to board our flight and be on our way to Mexico. Woo Hoo!! I am pleased to announce that all went well. I had a TV screen in front of me, I took my drugs, I didn't hear any screaming kids, and I don't think I even noticed how long the flight was. I believe I was "with it" upon our arrival in Mexico. We easily grabbed our bags, which, once again thanks to Maj's "Elite Status" were tagged "Priority" and came off the plane first. We are psyched! We are in Mexico! Our vacation has begun! We breezed through the green light at customs and then... Well, you've heard of timeshares, right?

Up next: Arriving in Puerto Vallarta, including How We Got Roped Into A Timeshare Presentation. Stay tuned...

Oh, Mexico...

(The starring cast: Shelley, Al, Maj, Me, James with supporting character Eric at the end of the table)

Yes, by now as I'm sure you've all heard, I had to go spend another week in Mexico, this time in Puerto Vallarta. So there I was again, only a month after returning from Manzanillo, enjoying the hot sun and accumulating stories for the blog. I like to think I am becoming a travel writer. So really, for all of you who think it is just sick and wrong to travel to Mexico twice within a month, I can assure you it was a working vacation. I certainly wouldn't just hop on down again for the pure pleasure of it! (ya right!)

So before I begin more stories from Mexico, I must introduce the cast of this fun and fabulous vacation... OH, MEXICO, written and partially directly by myself and starring the following:

Me, of course, a.k.a. the Minor (because Al thought the Major and the Minor sounded good together. I think.), but also known very briefly as whatever rank falls below a Major.

Michelle, a.k.a. Maj, (because that's what I call her), a.k.a. Major (because that's her last name and that's what another star, the Colonel, called her)

James, a.k.a. the Private (because we had a little army and he was lowest in the ranks) and a.k.a the new recruit (because I thought he still needed to go through the paces before getting his formal rank).

Al, a.k.a the Colonel (because that's his nickname at home and we liked it)

And last but certainly not least, Shelley, a.k.a. the General because, well, she is married to the Colonel and we all know women are in charge. (Shelley - if I'm spelling your name wrong, you better let me know!)

Supporting roles go to...

Curtis, little brother of James and most known for asking anyone and everyone to do tequila shots, any time of day. Also known for putting on the Curtis Show poolside.

Mark from California, in town for dental work (I am dead serious), and only because he's in this story and unfortunately makes more than just a cameo appearance.

Eric from Saskatoon, who raised the bar from Mark and whom we loved. Why he didn't leave us his info, we are not sure. We assume he was drunk and forgot, because who would not want to leave us their info?

There are other characters whom I am sure I have not mentioned here but will appear as the stories of Oh, Mexico unfold and whose credits would normally run at the end of the movie.

So...sit back, relax, get your drink and check daily for installments of Oh, Mexico, because as James always liked to remind us, "What happens in Mexico doesn't always stay in Mexico."

This and That

Well, it seems to be feast of famine with me and my writing. With my editor hounding me for stories, I am now forced to sit and write something. So, here's a bit of this and that...

I must first write about Dave, as this is something I've been meaning to brag about for awhile. My ever so talented designer guy has executed his first successful advertising campaign for City Square Mall. For those who don't know, this is a funky, little community-feel mall in a heritage building, located near Vancouver General Hospital. In his usual manner of getting work, Dave just reads his emails and checks his messages and there it was in December, a call from City Square Mall. They were looking for a new designer to head up their marketing and advertising and were interested in his work. After initial meetings, putting together a proposal and giving his pitch, he landed the contract. Yes, Dave, who has not had to make a formal advertising pitch like this since he was in school, went in and totally wowed them (as I knew he would). After coming up with some initial concept ideas and looks, (which they loved so much they had difficulty choosing just one!) his first task was to put together advertising and signage for the mall's Emergency Preparedness Fair.
I have become Dave's wordsmith and intern and had much fun brainstorming ideas for the tag line while soaking in the hot tub after a day of skiing. The result.... my tag line "Do You Have What It Takes?" with Dave's photography and all that other graphic design stuff he does on the computer, resulting in signs for the mall, ads in the Georgia Straight, advertising banners on the Clear FM radio station website, and ballots for draw prizes at the mall. VERY COOL! This is just the beginning of Dave's year long contract, which will allow him full creative freedom and the opportunity to expand his advertising portfolio. I'm so excited and proud of him!


Other news in Dave's world...he has been asked to be one of four judges at the Marketing Association for Credit Unions (MACU) Marketing Games and Achievement in Marketing Excellence Awards (AIMEs). I believe he will be judging entries to determine the best marketing campaigns and strategies in the credit union industry. If you want to see his bio (written by his wordsmith and intern - that's me) check out: http://guest.cvent.com/EVENTS/Info/Custom.aspx?cid=17&e=fc6855c6-09a4-468d-bdce-114f33580cae (just copy and paste it into your browser).

I myself had a two week funk (hence no blogging) which I survived. I was once again reminded by my shrink this week that, well, that's just the way it goes. Nothing else can be done to my already complicated cocktail and I just have to ride these times out. I'm now feeling better and so of course, it doesn't seem all that bad. I shall await for some researchers to come up with something better. In the meantime, I shall continue to try to just go with the flow. As always, I'm so grateful to Dave for all his patience and for knowing exactly how to deal with me and sticking to that plan.

I do seem to have exceptional karma at the moment though. Perhaps it is my payback for the times I feel so crappy. First, my brother calls to tell me that he's got us tickets to see City and Colour in May. He paid top price for front row seats and insists I will only pay the ticket price. I am so grateful that me and Dave (brother) have our relationship and that he is so darn good to me! And Helga...my sweet sister in law who I think is completely amazing and am so blessed to have in my life. Last night she informed me that she had purchased me a membership at the Aquarium so that I could take my sweet peanut Markus anytime we wanted to go. Just out of the blue, she does this for me. And then there is Mexico...

Yes, I am hopping on a plane tomorrow with my friend Maj for a week in Puerto Vallarta. Yes, I know it's totally sick. I have been back just over a month and off I go again. But then again, I figure this is my payback for all the times I've had to suffer through the crap of my mood swings. Poor Dave...he is currently in Ontario, where there is snow aplenty. I feel soooooooooo bad for him. NOT! Now it's my turn to be away somewhere hot and tropical while he is at home. Or in Ontario. Ha. Ha. And P.S. - I am stocked with Ativan and Seroquel for my flight, so there shouldn't be any problems. Other than perhaps Maj having to shake me awake when we get there.

So that is a bit of this and that in the world of Ange and Dave. Our year seems to be off to a smashing start, despite my own little dips here and there. Until I return with stories of sunny Mexico...I'm off!

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!