You know how when people go on fabulous vacations to sunny and exotic places, and they come back and they’re all “it was a-maz-ing and so gor-geous and I’m all tan and glow-y from the rays of the sun!”

And it’s really freaking annoying because everyone else has just been doing the same ‘ol, sittin at their desk, looking at that freaking motivational poster of a cat “hanging in there”, and kind of wish the cat was hanging ITSELF because at least then you could laugh about something- I mean, not that hanging kittens are funny, but hey, it WANTED to go, and it’s really much more fitting with the office atmosphere?

Or something.

Anyhoo, I’ve decided that instead of a JOYful CHEERful OHEMGEE look what I did while you were toiling away at your desk jobs! post, I’m going to take a slightly different direction with it, and tell you all about every last thing that went terribly, horribly wrong.

You see how I love you?

Let’s do this.

1. Thursday, we arrived in Costa Rica at midnight, and grabbed a taxi to a hotel nearby… only to find that it didn’t exist. Our driver took us to the exact address… and it was a cemetary. $75 dollars down the drain later, we gave up and stayed at the stupid Hilton.
2. We bussed up it to Arenal Volcano and hot springs the next day, where we hiked up an enormous and treacherous mountain to NOT see lava at dusk… and then hiked back down in pitch black darkness. Believe me when I tell you it’s a miracle no one lost a limb.
3. While lying in said hot springs, I slowly realized the jacuzzi-esque water felt like it was scalding me… which turned out to be a side effect of the INCREDIBLE sunburn I had already obtained on our FIRST day that covered 75% of my front. Somehow, my knees were 8 shades pinker than anything else. ??????

Finally, we made it to the beach, where we planned to stay for a week of glorious sunshine. Surely things would be relaxing and easy here on out, right?

By mid-week, I had the following afflictions…

1. A NEW sunburn, this time on my entire back side
2. Approximately 53 gigantic bug bites covering my legs and arms, that were about 1,000 times itchier than your average bite, and therefore I was constantly scratching them open because the PAIN FELT BETTER
3. A “sun rash” of tiny red dots on my arms and neck
4. The beginnings of a very unsexy cold. At the beach. In 85 degree weather. AT THE BEACH.

At least one day when we were body surfing, I took a quart of sea water up my nose, which pretty much cleared my sinuses out.

It rained our last two days at the beach, and after a zillion hours of traveling, we finally caught a cab home at Reagan, only to discover the driver had just let out the world’s stankiest, rankiest assplosion of a fart. It smelled like the farts of someone who’d used an entire bottle of Sex Panther. He should’ve knock 2 bucks off the rate for that shiz. BUT, we got to home sweet home in one piece.

So, yeah… all in all?

It absolutely couldn’t have been any better, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

I have approximately a kajillion pictures… this is pared down from almost 500. So I apologize, but have at it, hoss…

Costa Effin Rica

Update: I just realized you guys can COMMENT on the pictures. Dum dum dum……

Mama said share.

HI THERE!!!!!

[Waves, gives ridiculously tight hug]

It’s been a while but I’m back in style, massively hating life because I am, for the first time in almost two weeks, at WORK where all these people seem to expect me to DO STUFF.

Redic.

But somehow, some way, I’ll get through it. Pray for me. No, wait, on second thought… just send booze.

Pictures and stories to come, to be sure, but for now, I’m just trying to get through Day 1 of Operation: Back to Real Life. So let’s kick this jam off with a “Shiz My Boyfriend Says… Costa Rica Style”. (Click here for allllllllll the “Shiz My Boyfriend Says”‘s.)

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Costa Rica is full of stray cats and dogs, who despite being most likely riddled with disease, are absolutely adorable. I was definitely the asshole tourist who snuck them food from my plate at basically every restaurant we went to.

Me: Look! The puppy LOVES me!

B: Um, he loves the BACON you are giving him.

Me: Shhhhh. He can tell that it’s love bacon.

B: That’s probably true. Actually, that’s a good idea. You should probably wrap your love for ME in bacon!!!!! I’d love you way more then!

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I speak Spanish, and B, well… does not. This was his response every time I answered anything he asked me in Spanish…

B: Where’s the sunblock?

Me: [Insert Spanish here]

B: Don’t you curse at me!!!!!!!!

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While watching one of the three English channels, a commercial for the Sims comes on.

Me: Oh, I thought this was an awesome new game for Wii… turns out it’s just the Sims. LAME.

B: Seriously, the Sims is bullshit. You have to make them go to the bathroom and stuff! Why on earth do I want to worry about someone ELSE taking a dump. I have to do my own poops every day! Fucking asshole Sims guy. You think I care if that guy poops?! I don’t give a shit! [insert rambling mumblings about poops...]

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Laying in bed, he asks me to scratch his back, which I HATE because I can feel the dead skin catching under my nails and it’s freaking gross, man.

B: Pleeeeeease, will you itch my back? Just a little bit!

Me: You know I hate that!

B: Well, this way, if I murder you tonight, you’ll have my skin under your nails! Boo yah!

Me: You’ve used that one before.

B: Have I? … Well, it still rings true. [Seeing my face, sighs...] I probably won’t murder you tonight.

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It’s good to be home.

Mama said share.

So, I realized that I never posted any of our Halloween pics, mostly because I’m lazy and they were on Maxie’s camera and she’s always going on about having dial-up in West Virginia or something.

All I can say is, THANK GOD YOU ARE MOVING TO DC, WOMAN.

Anyhoo, for anyone who enjoys some Always Sunny in their life… at least you’ll get this. No one at the bar did.

B and I went as “Charlie and the Waitress”…

Here’s what they look like:

And here’s us:

You like the hair? Apparently the Waitress has an 80′s mullet. At least I had the apron and coffee karafe going for me. And you can’t see it, but the shirt says “Philly has the best crack”.

Mom, aren’t you proud?

How about now?

Ahem. We also saw some other adventurous people out at the 4P’s in Cleveland Park… let me show you it.

Tobias Freaking Funke as a Nevernude!

Inspector Gadget FTW

The Bubble Boy!

Creepster McCreeperson McNoSeriously,ThisGuyWasTheCREEPIEST.

He wasn’t even wearing a costume… he just had on a silver mini skirt and HOVERED with a capital H around all the other groups of people having fun. Yanno, cause he was COMPLETELY ALONE. I wish you could have seen his face… to look into his eyes was to KNOW he has eaten a baby at some point in his life.

So all in all, a rousing success.

We’re getting back from Costa Rica tonight, so unless we didn’t pass Customs I will be back in action tomorrow. See y’all soon!

Mama said share.

This is an excerpt from a letter I wrote to a friend who asked me for information about visiting CR, as she’s traveling there herself this weekend. I figured I might as well put my two cents out on the interwebs as well, in case anyone is googling for advice. I know I was before our trip, and I had a hard time finding sources that weren’t advertisements. Keep in mind these suggestions are only relative to travels during the rainy or “green” season (May to October).

Her request:

Hi LiLu,

I wanted to touch base with you and ask for some advice about Costa Rica!

I am headed down on a totally last minute crazy trip this Saturday morning. It’s a really quick trip, but I am meeting up with people in San Jose and we want to go to the beach (obvi). Do you have any suggestions of beaches that are a few hours from San Jose – close and easy? We don’t need any surfing-specific areas… just pretty beaches with fun bars!

Any ideas???

Super Lovable and Darling Friend

And my response:

Dear Super Lovable and Darling Friend,

I would advise you to spend as little time as possible in San Jose- perhaps you’ll like it better as you’ll be with friends, but I found it to be an absolute hell hole of a city (and I LOVE cities). Unfortunately, the beaches closest to San Jose on the Pacific Coast won’t be worth your time. It’s the rainy season right now, and they’re basically submerged in water- there’s been hurricanes and landslides, and people are flooded out of their homes. You’ll be much better off driving (or, preferably, taking a bus- there are NO street signs anywhere in the country and navigation is quite difficult, and rental cars are expensive) the four hours to Puerto Viejo de Talamanca, on the southeast (Caribbean) coast. I promise you will not be sorry that you did. The beaches there are gorgeous, and the also-lovely beaches of Cahuita (25 minute drive north) and Manzanillo (30 minute drive south) are breathtaking, sunny, and full of activities. Cahuita and Manzanillo have the best snorkeling of the whole country, and don’t miss Maxi’s restaurant (you can’t, as it’s the only one) in Manzanillo. Both towns are very small, though, so you’ll want to post up in Puerto Viejo. Lots of great bars and restaurants there- get the snapper, it’s local. We stayed at Cabinas Casa Verde for $48/night (if paid in cash, off-season price)- the hotel was clean, comfortable and absolutely gorgeous.

The brand-new rock formation pool didn’t hurt either, and the whole hotel is lanscaped so that you feel as if you are living in a jungle- you won’t find better accommodations for the price.

Also, you DEFINITELY want to buy a map before you head down. My Lonely Planet (which was also very helpful to have along on the trip) told me to do this, which I read as I was desperately trying to navigate us from city to city with the pitiful map we were given at the car rental place. When we tried to buy a better one, we were informed by the Tourist Info lady that it was one of the best available in the country. But you can order a much better one ahead of time, if you get it before you go.

Hope this helps!

LiLu

Mama said share.

So, I will admit that I was a little disappointed that on our trip, we did not see A WHOLE SHIT TON OF MONKEYS. I really, really wanted to play with monkeys. And, you know, braid each other’s hair, pick bugs off one another, throw our poop at each other- all the stuff monkey bffs normally do at their slumber parties.

Sadly, the only monkeys we saw preferred to dance out of reach in the canopies of the rain forest, wholeheartedly spurning my advances and anguished declarations of love. Devastated, I buried myself in a dark hole of Imperial beer and Chilean sauvignon blanc, and pronounced the entire trip a bust unless a monkey threw a crusty turd at me before we left the country.

It was our last day in Costa Rica. Slowly making our way back to San Jose after white water rafting the Pacuare river, (which has been declared one of the top five most beautiful rivers in the world- no big deal), we drove up to the peak of the Irazú Volcano (the highest active volcano in Costa Rica). And yeah, it was pretty damn cool (both literally and figuratively- we watched the car’s thermometer drop from 28 degrees celsius to 14 at the top).

So, yeah, the principal crater (above) is apparently 1,000 meters wide and 300 meters deep, or in layman’s terms, pretty freaking amazing. Which makes it all the more sad when I tell you that this did not impress me nearly as much as the OTHER thing we found at the top…

SQUEEEEEEE!!!!! I have absolutely no idea what these things are, and I don’t care. They look like a cross between a retarded badger and a kinkajou, but B and I quickly dubbed them “Volcano Monkeys.” Mostly so that I would stop pouting about the lack of feces in my hair, I suppose.

These things were as friendly as a purebred (i.e. inbred) puppy, dancing and weaving in and out of the smitten Asian tourists, greedily nibbling the jalepeno corn chips from the fingers of adults and children alike. It’s like when asshole tourists come to D.C. and feed the pigeons, but I couldn’t help it. I mean, you just try and resist this face:

Maybe we chased them all over the top of the volcano, squealing every time we got them to break out in a reluctant trot, their ridiculously oversized behinds swaying endearingly behind them. I’m not saying we did, I’m not saying we didn’t. You can’t prove it.

Mama said share.

It really, really, REALLY is great to be home. Unfortunately, I don’t even know where to begin… so I suppose, in a somewhat unpredictable stroke of logic, that I’ll begin at the beginning.

Last Friday morning, we flew into the airport just outside of San Jose, and like two idiots, planned to spend the night there and experience the nation’s capital city before getting an early start the following morning. BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIG mistake. If you ever go to Costa Rica, head straight to your next destination from the airport, no matter how tired you are. Especially if you’re tired. Nothing will drain you like San Jose. TRUST.

Here’s what it looked like driving in:

San Jose is a living nightmare of a city, multiplied by 4000 times if you’re a tourist. Multiplied by 19000 times if you’re a tourist in a rental car. I have no words for how dreadful our time spent in this city was. If you’ve ever been to the dust bowl that is Mexico City, imagine that. (Everyone else, imagine Adams Morgan, only everyone hates you and you’re covered with an inch-thick coating of grime, cigarette smoke and pollution. To breathe is more painful than to not.) Everything is a clusterfuck of cars, trucks, scooters, and pedestrians, and everyone has the right of way. Now imagine all the roads and sidewalks are 1/4 of “normal” size. Now imagine that within your first 10 minutes in the city you see this, urinating and/or masturbating, on the side of a building, for the entire time that he is within your sights:

Yes, that is a Santa Claus hat. No, I have no explanation for it, seeing as it was 75 degrees and sunny. This was, however, a different bum from the one we encountered a few moments later, who asked us for some spare change. Because I hate coinage, knew that the colones in my pocket were worth fractions of pennies, and wanted to feel cultural and interact with the locals, am a very generous human being, I gave him the small handful of the silver coins weighing down my clutch.

Without even looking, his closed fist felt the weight of each and every coin, discerned its value in less than a second, and inexplicably, without even looking in his palm, he spit a U.S. $0.25 back in my face and walked away. Stunned, we looked at each other, trying to be offended… but mostly we were just really, really impressed. I mean, you can’t argue with that kind of skill. The man was clearly much better at his job than I am at mine.

If you read the comments prior to our departure, we planned to head north to the hot springs of the Volcan Arenal, (please forgive the lack of Spanish punctuation; frankly, my dear, I don’t have the energy); followed by a day in the cloud forests of Monteverde, and then on to the Pacific Coast. SOMEHOW, mostly through an inconceivably unknowingly very, very stupidly) venture headfirst into the worst of it.

By the grace of el bebe jesus christo, we stopped at a Tourist Info booth in San Jose and asked for directions to Arenal. The very sweet lady (the first truly kind- to us- person we had met in Costa Rica) laughed at us, showed us the many, many newspapers documenting the devastation that was the western half of the country, and told us to head for the Caribbean coast immediately. The mountain range dividing Costa Rica prevents the horrific weather of the rainy season from reaching the eastern coast, and as she put it, the beaches there were “Sunny, sunny, sunny.” Please imagine this phrase with a magical and lyrical incantation to it, as we spent the subsequent drive chanting it to each other as we watched the car’s external thermometer rise to a balmy 30 degrees celsius on our way to the unbelievably glorious beaches of South Caribbean Coast Rica.

Our drive looked something like this: (I tried to capture the weaving in and out on one-lane roads as trucks barreled around the corner towards us, but it is

impossible to do with a Canon Powershot 300)…

Here is the moment when we came around yet another inconceivably sharp bend and thought we would collide with a broken-down banana truck:

We drove through the mountains to Cahuita (below), a one-”road” town on the Caribbean coast, where the largest living coral reef in Costa Rica is located. There were about 20 buildings total, half of them hotels, the other half bars and restaurants. We met a certifiably crazy yet remarkably endearing Vietnam vet named Wallace Price, which is an amazing story in and of itself, and which I think B can do more justice to than I.

In Cahuita, the beach meets the rain forest, which is protected as one of the country’s many national parks.

We saw monkeys. We saw sloths. We saw lizards and crabs and birds. We met an wonderful couple from Vermont, who we spent days in Manzanilla and Puerto Viejo with. We met them like this, as we walked down a path and came upon them staring unblinkingly up at a palm tree:

Branson: “Hey, have you ever seen a sloth??”

Me and B: “NO…?!?!?”

Emily: “You wanna??”

Ummm… duh?

The next four days were a blur of sun, beer, and bodysurfing. I tasted the most wonderful food I’ve ever had in my life, (mostly B’s, since he out-ordered me on EVERY single meal,) and saw the most gorgeous landscapes I’ve ever laid eyes on. It was disgustingly romantic, incredibly FUN, and worth every goddamn penny we spent.

More to come…

Mama said share.