Vacation in Cali

I had a great time out in California. I spent a few days out in San Luis Obispo and the surrounding beaches where I tanned like crazy. I also went out to Hollywood and to Venice Beach/Santa Monica for the day. The weather was incredibly amazing, not breaking 80 degrees, compared to our unbearable sticky 100+ back at home in Houston.

I also went out to my hometown to surprise my best friend for dinner. Her new husband and our other friend had set it up to where she thought she was having dinner with just him. When she walked in, she burst into tears, shocked and amazed at the surprise she was facing: Me! Her husband had worked out all the details to perfection, and she never suspected a thing. She talked about her last year of studies at Pharmacy school, and gushed about married life. It was a bittersweet moment, and it was great to catch up on what each person was doing, but it was also then that I realized that we had grown apart, and would never be back to the same level of friendship we'd shared when we were in middle school. Too many years and too many miles between us, we were two different adults with hardly any similar interests between us.

It was also then that I realized I shared a lot more interests with my other friend (who also happened to be dating and single) as we recounted all the similarities we shared, especially when it came to music. While we were in the car, she blurted out "This is so weird. It's almost as if I'm driving my car because this is exactly the music I listen to!" My iPod included classic rock, some pop, but mostly legends. "I could never listen to this type of music with the other girls" she said, referring to our high school group of friends.

I came back from vacation, vowing never to return to my hometown again. It was dead. I had gone back four times since I'd moved away in 2006, and it didn't have the same appeal anymore. It was in the middle of nowhere and required hours of driving just to get in for the night. I prefer to sight-see when I vacation, not go back to the same dead town I escaped from.

My trip to St. Louis

I decided to take a couple of days off and visit my friend Shannon out in St. Louis for the weekend leading up to St. Patrick's. If you may remember, Shannon and I met at a mutual friend's house party back in late September. Since Shannon had bigger plans to move to New York City in December, I used to opportunity to stop dating and make a new girlfriend with whom I would go out with every single weekend.

Shannon didn't make it out to NYC when she'd expected as she didn't find adequate housing during her short vacation in December. Instead, she went back to her hometown in Misourri, and opted to find short term living in St. Louis and continue waitressing until she saved up more money for her relocation.

I left on Thursday after work, with much excitement about what Shannon had planned for us for the weekend, but I was not prepared to have a non-stop, jam-packed, vomit induced weekend.

The girl wore me out to the nub.

As soon as I stepped off the plane and into the car, Shannon whisked me away back to her place to get changed and head out to dinner, followed promptly to an 18+ club, where we quickly felt out of place. We went back home near 1:00, and I awoke completely hung over, to the worst headache the next day, which pounded in my head until late in the evening.

Oh God, how am I supposed to continue?

Shannon wouldn't take "slow down" as an excuse. We went out to the Gateway Arch the next afternoon, and stood in line to ride up the tower's arch to overlook the city from the observation deck. Later that night, we repeated the same schedule, going to a fancy restaurant and out to a club, this time, meeting a guy she'd been casually seeing, and his friends, one whom she was completely lusting over. Shannon kept whispering to me that she wanted to sleep with the friend, but wouldn't, calling it a "bitch move" to do that to her interested party's friend. It soon became apparent that the friend wanted to continue talking to me. I on the other hand, was not  interested in the least.  The friend was only good for conversation, but didn't win me over, the fact being that I was only there for a short weekend, and that my preference is for white guys (he was black.)

After one too many drinks, Shannon whispered to me "Girl, git it! Don't worry, if you want him, you should totally sleep with him, cause I can't." I simply smiled, and stopped drinking, knowing that I would have to possibly step in and drive us home that night. Shannon kept pushing the offer throughout the night, while I told her each time that I wasn't interested. Near the end of the night, I tried to hatch a plan to get the friend to drive us home so that she'd get some alone time with him.  She wouldn't accept it. She may have been completely wasted, but she still had "values" knowing that it wouldn't be an appropriate move to make to her "date" at the time. We decided to leave, with the intent of going out to IHOP so the rest of the group could "sober" up, but from the moment we walked out to the time we made it to the car, Shannon had changed her mind and wanted to go home and sleep. I decided to drive us home seeing as to how Shannon had tripped over her own two feet and fallen to the ground.

On Saturday, the next morning, we went over to watch the St. Patrick's Day Parade downtown. We had a good time and enjoyed the different groups. Afterwards we went to the Zoo and stayed until closing time, until we went home to get ready for another night out. After dinner, we went to another bar and stayed until closing time, getting robbed by one hour due to Daylight Saving Time.

On Sunday, Shannon accepted her friend's invitation to Dave & Buster's and we all went to play for a couple of hours. We had fun playing trivia, and a while later, Shannon and I went to Harrah's, the casino, to play for a while. I didn't have much luck on the slots, but Shannon won over $300 at the roulette table. I joined her and learned how to play, but only got ahead by about $40. I wasn't getting enough returns and ultimately stopped playing when I was down by $8. I still had a lot of fun though. On Sunday night, Shannon decided it would be my night to go all out and get completely drunk. She ended up taking me out to an all black club in downtown, where I immediately felt uncomfortable. "I feel like I'm on display" I told Shannon. I pushed her to get us out, feeling out of place as the only "brown and white chicks" on the dance floor. Since it was Sunday night, and no other place was open, we drove into East St. Louis, Illinois to another club that stayed open until 6:00 am.

I'm the dork on the right

Passed out on the way home

This is where I will never forgive Shannon for all the drinking she pushed me to do. Apparently, she was telling the bartender to do doubles for me, while she sipped on beer. I felt fine, until about.... well, I honestly can't remember anymore. I remember dancing with my head in her crotch, but I can't remember walking out to the car (in the rain?) and riding 40 minutes back home. I do however, remember stumbling through the front door and racing for the bathroom on the first floor and puking out my vodka cranberries down the toilet. I have never vomitted from overdrinking. NEVER. Until I met Shannon of course. I felt completely disgusted and in so much pain. The next morning, I still felt sick, and worried about my plane ride later in the evening. We went out to eat, but I couldn't muster enough courage to eat more than a few bites of my honey glazed chicken. I had hoped the white rice would help, but it only made me feel sicker. We went back home, where I finally had the chance to take a nap during my action-packed weekend.

Shannon took me to the airport amidst the light snow falling over St. Louis, and I came back home around 9:30 pm. What happened later that night was totally unexpected.....

[to be continued]

One year later....

I just realized that it is my one year blogoversary today.  What better way to celebrate than to summarize the beautiful, crappy, exciting, sexy, and sad things that happened since the inception (no, not the movie) of this Survival Guide along with the things I have learned since then.

A year ago, I was researching my first apartment, and was in a complicated open relationship with my ex-boyfriend Sebastian. Sebastian became a character in this blog and garnered the affection and approval of quite a few readers even though he was very difficult to deal with.  He had excess baggage from his previous marriage, a lot of which carried over into our time.

I didn't speak up enough in the very beginning, but in time, I learned to voice out my concerns and frustrations with the help and support of you, my readers.

Even though I still hold some anger towards Sebastian, it is only because the end came before I wanted it.  Sebastian had always been a gentleman and I can't badmouth him. Things didn't work out between us, but he was great, unfortunately.

During the year, I also managed to go to Europe for a dozen days and explore other cultures. I experienced new things with Sebastian, and visited new places as well.

I also managed to go back to school and continue with the prerequesites for Business Administration. I lost my job at the construction company, and was dumped by Sebastian within the same time period.

I had my grieving period and started dating again- most of which have not managed to outlast the dreaded 2-week period [sigh].

Since Sebastian, I became involved with a few guys where it didn't quite work out. I wasn't romanced and pursued and quickly lost interest in the potential candidates.

I began a new job which showed me how to be part of a bigger team and feel much more appreciated than before. I learned to like and dislike the benefits of being single.

It's been an eventful year so far, and I really have no idea what's on my plate in my personal life from here on out.

The only thing I've got looking up for me is my next planned vacation during Thanksgiving Break: Chile and Peru, here I come!

On a special note:
To my subscribed readers and frequent visitors:

Thank you in the USA to : L.A., Modesto, Alameda, San Fran, Austin, Bourbonnais, Chicago, Racine, New York, Brooklyn, Pinellas Park, Lutz, Greensboro, Bellingham, Minneapolis, Dayton, Nashville, Atlanta, Portland, Phoenix, Midvale, and of course HOUSTON.

Canada: Saskatoon, Toronto and Don Mills

England= my favorite group of people!!: London, Wigan, Bootle, Liverpool, Canterbury, and Manchester

Norway: Bergen and Stavanger

Germany: Cologne, Berlin and Munich

Australia: Melbourne, Brisbane, Sydney, Adelaide

and special recognition in : Ireland, France, the Netherlands, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, Greece, Russia, Poland, Philippines, India, Japan, New Zealand, Argentina, Brazil and Chile

This blog is for you.
Thank you.

When in Rome...... (Part IV)

Dec. 3rd was a travelling day to Rome. It was also my 25th birthday.

We woke up in Marseille, France at the family house, got ready with our bags and left to the airport to catch our first plane back to the London hub.

We arrived in London right before lunch time and decided to have lunch at the airport. We patiently awaited for our next flight to take us to Rome, quickly coming to realization that our vacation was coming to an end. Rome would be our last destination.

We arrived in Rome fairly late in the evening, and had a bit of a harder time getting to our hotel. The language barrier was a bit problematic, but most agents and customer service at the train stations managed to speak english and guide us in the right direction. However, we hadn't done any research on how to arrive to the hotel, and I became overwhelmed lugging around my heavy briefcase and not knowing which bus to take. I got the ingenious idea to call the hotel to tell them where I was at (about 7km away) and ask how to get there. The manager told us to take one more metro ride and arrive to the stop where there would be a shuttle bus waiting for us. I was so relieved and Sebastian very happy.

We arrived at the hotel and quickly unpacked our stuff and got into bed. Sebastian had been very hungry and got frustrated when the supermarket right across the street closed as soon as we got there. I told him to eat some of the sausage we had brought back with us from Marseille, and the sandwiches we had been given onboard our flight.

The next day, we woke up to have breakfast downstairs and catch our first glimpse of the weather- gray, dull and hazy. We took the shuttle to the metro station and made our way into central Rome, unfortunately in some rain. We slowly strolled around going from one landmark to the next.

We had dinner at a tiny restaurant where I managed to spit out the phrase "acqua di rubinetto" to specify that I wanted tap water and not bottled water at 3€.

We went back to the hotel and had some more sausage while we watched TV and drank cappuccinos.  I mentioned to Sebastian that I had found it entirely fortunate that we had not been subjected to loud sex by next door guests in any of the hotels. As we were watching TV, we suddenly hear the moans of a man in the next room. I wasn't sure if it was sex or talking, so I immediately put my ear to the wall when Sebastian went into the bathroom (where apparently he was doing the same thing.) It became apparent that it was a SEX session when I heard the sound of skin slapping against two body parts.

There's no way that's masturbating, right?

We quickly heard the moaning grow louder, nearing its grand finale. We never once heard the woman make a peep. We laughed when it was done, telling ourselves that we would compete the following night.

The last day, we took the metro to the Vatican city. What bothered me the most were the incessant amount of peddlers coming up to us to sell crapless roses or offer guided tours of the main momuments. One guy bothered me so much as I was getting my picture taken that Sebastian yelled out "Hey! We're taking a picture here" and motioned for him to move out of the shot.

We arrived at San Pedro's Plaza, the entrance to the Vatican City, to see them setting up the christmas tree. The plaza itself was incredibly big, and Sebastian and I took a break on the steps before we continued to the next place.

We also found Rome to be a lot dirtier and ruder than the other 3 cities we'd visited. It seemed that as further south we headed, the harder it got. I think it has a lot to do with not being able to respond in Italian, even though I can understand a majority of it (I also speak french and spanish fluently)


As we came back to our hotel to pack up our bags, I finally let out a sigh of relief. The trip had come to an end- and a very good one at that. In preparation for our early 8am flight the next day, Sebastian opted for reassurance and commodity to arrive on time at the airport and decided to pay for a shuttle to come pick us up- at the tune of 65€. It hurt me a bit because it was the equivalent to what we'd spent on two nights at the hotel, but it was going to take us too long to do it by bus, metro and train.


That night, as we sat in bed watching the last bit of TV and talking, I remembered how excited I'd been at the beginning of the trip and thinking that maybe 12 days wouldn't be enough. I told Sebastian that after 11 days, I was ready to come home as I was beginning to feel a little homesick, and moreover tired of lugging our luggage from hotel to hotel, unpacking and packing every 3 nights, and hopping on 6 flights and 1 major train ride- plus countless other subways, trains,metros, trams and cars.

We had concluded our trip to Europe- "planes, trains, and automobiles." It was over, but time to come home. Before leaving our hotel room though, the guests next door decided to grace us with a going away gift: Loud laughter and sex at 2:30am, when we had to wake up at 5am.

Sebastian was pissed and made a shitload of noise at 5:00 am when we began getting ready to leave. I just laughed along.

There's a few lessons that that I've learned on this trip-

1) "Free wi-fi" does not mean free wi-fi
2) Pack light
3) Getting lost in Paris is Priceless. There's always an interesting sight to see around each corner.
4) Learn to ask for "tap water" in the different languages. It's free.
5) Carry coins to use the restrooms in Paris and Marseille shopping malls, public restrooms.
6) Wear comfortable shoes.
7) Read the destinations on subways and metros before hopping on.
8) Try a new dish each time
9) Carry cash to leave tips.
10) Pray you don't get a room next to an Italian Couple.

We now return to our regular programing.

Marseille, Marseille..... (Part III)

Our train ride from Paris to Marseille was very calm and relaxed. We rode on the TGV which took 3.5 hours. We had bought some snacks and sandwiches at a bakery in Paris because the meals were at least 8€ on the train. This was also Sebastian's first train ride, which he mostly spent reading, while I listened to music and tried to do our "bookkeeping." However, I fibbed during the trip to Paris, and had a very hard time keeping track of our money, and decided I didn't want to complete it until I saw my statement back at home.

I was fairly excited about this stop because I would be visiting my friends and family. Sebastian had admitted to me that he was a bit bummed out about having to stop at family's, and I told him I understood (I'd be bummed out too if I had to stop by someone's family in a completely different country and not know the language) but I hadn't seen them in almost 3 years, and had been looking forward to it for a while.

We arrived at the station where my brother picked us up. We went to his mother's house where I greeted my friend Ingrid, sister Samantha and her mother Marie. We had a nice dinner and caught up on some current events. My brother speaks english from what he has learned on shows and school, so he was able to talk with Sebastian. My sister is only a beginning english speaker, so spoke very slowly to him.

We went to sleep tired that night, with plans to visit Marseille the next afternoon.

We awoke to an empty house and had breakfast in the computer room as we took turns taking showers. My brother came to pick us up around 1pm, and took us to Palais Longchamps to walk around the garden before lunch.

We grabbed some kebabs and drove up to the Cathedral Notre Dame de la Garde which overlooks all of Marseille. It was very windy and cold, to the point of making our eyes water.

That afternoon, we went to see my brother's friends (his ex-gf Nana and his best friend who just had a baby) and spend time with them. Sebastian and the guys went off into the kitchen to smoke, while Nana and I talked about everything that'd been going- relationships, work, health, school, travel and family. She had come to visit us twice since 1999 when she was dating my brother. We reconnected fairly well when I came back to France during '06-'07.

Later that night, we went to the store to do some grocery shopping at the supermarket for that evening's soirée. While I was trying to pick out stuff (and evidently taking too much time) my brother got frustrated and managed to make me swell up with emotions and cry. My friend Ingrid quickly saw me upset, but I couldn't bear to tell her that I was too sensitive to my brother's comments.  Sebastian didn't know what was going on either, but I kept it to myself until that night when we went to bed.

That night, a few people I had met on my previous visit came to hang out at the house. We played games and mainly just talked and joked around. Most of the girls and non english speakers were in the room with me, while the guys and english speakers were in the other room playing poker. Sebastian managed to get along quite well with the guys. The guys thought him a few phrases such as "Ma boisson préferée est le pastis" as anise resembles licorice, which he loves.

The last night before our flight, we went to a fondue house where Sebastian and I quickly agreed that it was "fun don't." The smell of cheese overtook us as soon as we stepped inside. We sat at a table and waited for our different pots of cheese and bread. That was it. That's all there is to fondue: bits of bread, dipped in melted cheese. My brother joked around saying we shouldn't wear the same coats and jacket on the plane the next day to avoid hearing comments like "Ah, ces français puent!" (these french people stink)

The next morning was my 25th birthday. Sebastian and I had stayed awake past midnight the night before packing our bags and talking about our visit to Marseille. He admitted that he had had a lot of fun and been surprised about the turnout and enjoyed spending time with my family and friends. He said he had been relieved that a few of them spoke english.

The next morning, while going through my notes on my Ipod Touch, I came across the following message:

Hallo!

Hi bright eyes! *kiss*

.___. .___.

./@ \. ./@ \.

\___/ \___/ .

_______

\_____/

You make my day brighter.

It was one of the sweetest messages he had ever sent me.

Overall, I enjoyed being in Marseille, and I consider it to be the most beautiful stop. I could have stayed up on that hilltop at the church for hours if it wasn't for our limited time.


Next blog- andiamo a Roma!

Ooh la la.... Paris. (Part II)

Heureusement que l'un de nous parlait français, sinon, ça aurait été une expérience de merde pour nous deux.

We arrived at CDG airport in Paris in the early evening and took a train all the way to La Gare de L'Est where our hotel was located. Unfortunately, our train car was filled with the pungent smell of dog urine: not the way to welcome a foreigner into Paris. Musicians got onboard and played the accordion and violin and entertained us for a while until they moved onto the following car.

Once at the hotel lobby, the manager informed me that they were at maximum capacity and had upgraded us to an Executive Suite on the sixth floor.

When Sebastian heard the word "suite" his ears perked up and he asked me to confirm. We rode up the elevator to find ourselves in the nicest suite either one of us had ever been in. Face to face with a living room with refrigerator, full bathroom, closets, and a separate bedroom, we jumped with joy and ran to the window to see what kind of view we had.

There in the distance stood our beloved Tour Eiffel.

To our right, the Basilique du Sacré Coeur stood on a hill, quietly illuminated.

We decided to go out to dinner to a restaurant across the street where I ordered for the both of us. We came back to our hotel and went to sleep, ready to start our journée the following day.

We decided to walk instead of riding the metro all day as we had done previously in London. We walked all over the city to the Louvre, Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower. We walked so much our feet didn't hurt anymore.

We had dinner at different restaurants every meal, all the time excited about the choice in foods and environment we would come across. A very useful tip I learned a few years back was to learn how to ask for tap water in France. Every waiter will try to offer you "still or sparkling" water without the customer realizing that they are selling you a bottle of water. "Un carafe d'eau" is free tap water in a used but clean bottle.

We went to visit the Louvre and because I was still under 25 and travelling with my European Union Passport, managed to get in for free while Sebastian paid 9€ for his ticket.

We strolled around, looking at the statues and paintings, and came face-to-face with La Joconde- the Mona Lisa, hanging alone on a wall about 20'x20' (so that more people can view her at once.)

Afterwards, we walked through the Tuileries Garden and made our way to the Eiffel Tower, following the path of the Seine river. We walked for so long we saw the light show repeatedly in the distance.

 

Overall, our visit to Paris was very relaxing and enjoyable. I think it had a lot to do with being able to speak the language and not get taken like an ass. We walked around a lot, and I think that was my favorite part of hanging out with Sebastian. We got to talk and joke around and please our tummies with delicious crêpes along the way.

Next blog:

Tous à bord! Départ pour Marseille!

London- Mind the gap! Part I

(A recount of our Euro Vacation)

We left Houston at 8:35 pm on Tuesday evening (Nov. 24) and arrived in London the following day at 11:30 am.  Sebastian had been in charge of research for ground transportation and quickly found that the Underground would be the best way around London. We took two trains (or metros, I don't know the difference) and a bus and made our way to our hotel in Colliers Wood, where we forced ourselves to stay up until night so we wouldn't suffer from jet lag.

Extremely tired and sleepy, we managed to trek out that same night. Since we'd purchased all day tickets for zones 1-6, we went out to see Big Ben and the Parliament at Westminster, as well as the London Eye. We walked around a bit before calling it a night and coming back to grab fish and chips and a pint of beer at the pub next to our hotel. We slept on a very uncomfortable spring mattress that awoke me a few times that night (as well as the doors slamming in the corridors.) The next day, we forced ourselves out of bed to have their continental breakfast.

The following afternoon, we went out to the London Bridge to see the Tower Bridge, and walked around some more to find the Gherkin, which I repeatedly referred to as the "glass penis." We rode all day on the Underground and managed to take wrong directions at just about every intersection.  It later occured to us that we weren't really exloring London if all we were doing was riding the tube.

We walked over to Buckingham Palace and stopped by a park where a cute little squirrel climbed up my leg with a face asking "you hAZ fOoD?" Sebastian and I cracked up laughing.

At 4:30 pm, night fell. We were shocked. Not used to seeing darkness until 6 pm during the winter in Houston, we decided to go by foot to Piccadilly Circus. It was actually quite further than estimated on the map. On the way there, Sebastian came across Primark, a clothing department store, and decided to stop in to see what outfits they had. They had ridiculously low prices and he managed to get two button down shirts, complete suit and socks for about £46. He was very happy about that. I was tired and wanted to go back to the hotel, and even though he asked me repeatedly if I wanted something, I told him no.

Who turns down free clothes? That would be me.

Overall, I found our London stop to be much less of a culture shock. The people were very nice, respectful and very courteous. It was cold as hell- the coldest stop of all- but I'm glad it didn't rain. I had too much fried foods, but at least I didn't get sick. We ordered tap water everywhere and saved about £2-3 per meal on bottled water.

Sebastian made it his mission to "get busy" in every city stop of our trip. Which we did.

Next stop, Paris.

Houston, we have landed

My 12-day trip to Europe with the ex-turned-boyfriend-again finally came to a close this past Sunday evening. It was hard work and very tiring, but very well worth it and deserved in my opinion.

We started off easy and ended up much more exhausted. London was calm, clean and had respectful people. The Brits were courteous, well mannered and very helpful. Paris was dirtier, fast paced and very busy. Marseille was quiet and very relaxed. Rome was the worst. Rude Italians, dirty streets and annoying peddlers made me glad that it was the last stop before coming back. Saturday night, I finally began to feel homesick. The loud italian sex next door didn't make it any better either.

Surprisingly, Sebastian and I got along extremely well. We didn't fight at all and didn't get on each other's nerves either. I was very happy about that.

During this trip, I also turned 25 years old! It was a travelling day which left me having breakfast in France, lunch in England and dinner in Italy. Top that!

I'll be posting a couple of entries as time permits; for now, I'm catching up on my work and still need to go through all my pictures, and get the other half from Sebastian. But here is a sneak peak for your enjoyment.

Buckingham Palace, London:

Musée du Louvre, Paris:

View from Notre Dame de la Garde, Marseille

Colosseum, Rome