Thursday, April 29, 2010

Taste the Rainbow

A few weeks ago, Blythe, Sara and I ventured up to the Wasatch front (also known as Utah) for some crazy and interesting fun. Crazy and interesting? In Utah? Not possible, you may say.

And ordinarily I would agree with you.

However, on this occasion there was much fun to be had. Because.......we were in Utah to attend the Festival of Colors!

For those of you who have never heard of this event before, the Festival of Colors is a celebratory festival held each spring at Hare Krishna temples around the world. Surprisingly enough, one of the largest Hare Krishna temples is in Spanish Fork, Utah (go figure).

Now, I'm sure that there is some deeper meaning behind this celebration, especially for those who are actually members of that faith. However, 99.9% of the people who show up to this festival show up for one reason: to throw brightly-colored cornstarch at one another with reckless abandon. Yup. That's it. We Mormons really should get out more.....

However, childish as it may seem – it was an absolute blast!

When we first showed up, we started heading towards the temple lawn (where the actual festival takes place). No sooner had we even set foot on the temple grounds when I was pelted with a fistful of orange powder.

What was this? Nobody had blown the start whistle!! I did not give my permission to be suchly violated!! I almost used my pepper spray on the deviant, as I felt that this attack had been both brazen and aggressive.

And then Blythe reminded me that, well, that was kind of the whole idea behind the festival. Oh yeah.

And it just got worse from there on out. Picture a mud fight, except more colorful. And corn-starchy.

By the end of the day, every square inch of my body was rainbow-colored (no really, I was finding powder in crevices for days). My brand new WHITE bra was permanently stained lavender. And my hair-dresser asked me at my appointment two weeks later if I had been spending a lot of time in the swimming pool, because my hair had a "green tinge" to it. Great.

But I had an awesome time, and would totally do it again.

Here are some of my favorite pictures from the day:

 

Before the mayhem…..

26432_382793668596_742908596_4004833_1598846_n[1]

And so it began….

26432_382793678596_742908596_4004835_2585404_n[1]

26432_382793703596_742908596_4004839_3089279_n[1]

This next one has to be one of my favorite pictures EVER. I can’t not laugh at it!! Apparently, Blythe reeeeaaaallly wanted to be in the picture. Love that girl. :o)

26432_382793763596_742908596_4004848_4056445_n[1]

26432_382793728596_742908596_4004842_1882633_n[1]

Like I said, cornstarch EVERYWHERE!

26432_382793683596_742908596_4004836_8125014_n[1]

26432_382793743596_742908596_4004844_1606258_n[1]

Look how white our teeth look!

26432_382793758596_742908596_4004847_6517044_n[1]

After the festival, we went out to dinner at this little Italian restaurant in Provo – without showering first. What can I say, we were starving! We got many-a-look, let me tell you. They ranged from smirks of amusement to glares from people who probably thought that we had all just escaped the loony bin.

Whatever. They were all just jealous of our fashion sense.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Ummmmmm…….

Okay peeps, I am a total slacker....at least of the blog kind. It seems that my life for the past few months has been kind of hectic, and as a result, I have been letting my blogging fall by the wayside. And, not only have I not been derelict in my blog writing, but in my blog reading as well. So, chances are - if anything happened in your life after Christmas-time, I probably don't know about it.

However, I am going to try and repent of my evil ways. I can't promise that there will be many updates covering the last few months. However, I will try to be better at posting from here on out!

Deal?

(See new post below)

A Truly Religious Experience

Okay, so you remember that movie "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants," where four best friends of varying shapes and sizes somehow miraculously fit into the same pair of jeans? Well, I recently had somewhat of a similar experience to this in my own life......

A few months ago, Blythe, my friend Sara, and I decided to go shopping at the Camarillo Outlet Mall. Which, by the way, if you have never been to before, I highly recommend. It is freaking HUGE!! I mean, MASSIVE. We shopped for nearly 5 hours, and only covered a third of the shops! Sigh......... So many stores, so little time. :o)

But back to the point of my story. We happened upon the Off 5th store, which is the outlet center for Saks 5th Avenue. Ordinarily I would consider a store like this to be a little too "shi shi foo foo" for my taste. But I was in desperate need of new jeans, and well, they had quite a selection. On SALE.

We each grabbed about 20 pairs of different brands and styles of jeans and headed to the dressing room. And, in typical girlie fashion, proceeded to model each and every thing we tried on for each other. As we surveyed the tornado of clothes strewn about the dressing room floor, and sorted through the few items that we actually liked, we noticed something. In each of our "buy" piles, we had somehow all managed to choose the same pair of True Religion jeans. While this might not seem like an event of any consequence, let me assure you that it is. And I'll tell you why.

The three of us have completely different body types. I am tall and hippy. Blythe is medium-height and straight-bodied. And Sara is a shorty with curves. Logically speaking, there is no WAY that one single style of jeans should look good on all three of us. And yet......we all looked spectacular in these jeans.

Magical? I think so!!

And, not only are they totally adorable, but they are probably the most comfortable pair of jeans that I've ever owned – which is odd for designer clothing. Plus, they make one's booty look absolutely fabulous!

Exhibit A:

I am officially in love.

Now the only question is whether or not I should go buy another pair just so I have a spare. Hmmmmm…..that might be a bit extreme. Hmmmmmmmm…….. Or is it?

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Costa Rica – Day 4 – Cry Me A River

(Disclaimer: I am quite aware that it has been FOUR months since my Costa Rica trip. And yet, here I am, barely managing to post on the fourth DAY. What can I say? I’m a blog slacker as of late. However, I am determined to catalog this trip. At this point, though, these CR posts are really just for my journaling benefit. I really don’t expect any of you to actually read them. Just so ya know.)

So, Day 4 started off pretty nice and relaxing. I woke up (when I wanted to), moseyed on downstairs, and enjoyed a nice breakfast of cheese omelet and mango juice. Odd combo, I know, but it tasted great.

Most of the members of my group decided that they wanted to go riding on ATVs this day, but a few of us, including myself, decided to go white water rafting. This is something that I have always wanted to do. Well, at least for the past 5 years or so I have wanted to. There just isn't any white water rafting location really close to LA, and none of my friends ever seemed to have any interest in it. So I kinda forgot about it.

Until Costa Rica, that is......

And what better place to go water rafting! I mean, most of the country is covered in lush, green rainforests, with all sorts of crazy wildlife - which would make for quite the picturesque view!

All together, there were five of us who wanted to go rafting.

346

Again, the tourist van picked us up. But instead of heading straight to the rafting location, we were first brought to the rafting company's office.

Our rafting experience included a meal – which I had assumed would be picnic style once we got up to the rafting location. After all, the trip was supposed to be 4-5 hours long, and we were bound to get hungry at some point during all that. I was wrong, though, and they fed us our meal of chicken and rice at the office. Oooookay. I was already full of omelet and mango juice, but whatever.

After eating, we loaded up our rafts and hit the road. Once driving, our river guides informed us that it would take an hour and a half to reach our destination.

Excuse me?

I'm sorry, but did I get magically transported back to LA in my sleep or something? An hour and a half? The rafting locale was supposed to be in Manuel Antonio. We were currently in Manuel Antonio. How could it possibly take us that long to get anywhere in the city, especially since rush hour traffic was definitely not a factor here.

To make things even worse, the roads to the water rafting location were completely unpaved – and extremely bumpy. Plus, it was like 90 degrees outside, and the van had no air conditioning.

Full stomach, bumpy roads that were jostling said full stomach, intense nausea from said bumpy roads, blazing heat and no A/C. I was sooooo not the happy camper. And I was beginning to question my decision to do this. Like, a lot.

After about 45 minutes (of hell), we arrived at the bottom of a mountain. Were we there? Could the torture finally be over? Alas, we were still only halfway to our destination. At this point, our guides told us to take a bathroom break, as this would be the last time we would see an actual restroom for the remainder of the day (unless you count the river as a restroom......not that I would ever do that). They then loaded us into different vehicles, which I can only describe as Hummer-like. And we started driving. Again. However, this leg of the trip was actually kinda fun. We had to get to the top of this this huge mountain (where we would start our downhill river journey), and it was like we were off-roading the whole way up. Plus, the view at this point was spectacularly beautiful.

We got to the top, and had a short instructional lesson with our hilarious guides.

Here we all are at the beginning (as evidenced by our dry clothes).

IMG_0650

And then, SPLASH! We were off!!

And it was everything I had ever imagined.

The water was not too crazy, not too tame, and was sooooooo much fun! Though I am sure that it didn't take my boatmates very long to tire of the screams and yelps that would emit from my mouth each time a huge wave would crash into (and over the side of) our raft.

Here are some of the crazy pictures from the day. So funny.

IMG_0716 

IMG_0687

IMG_0728

IMG_0693

Melissa’s face in this next picture absolutely kills me. Poor thing.

IMG_0781

IMG_0817

IMG_0820

IMG_0822

About halfway through the journey, our guides had us pull our rafts over to the side of the river, and we took a short little nature hike to this gorgeous waterfall just off the beaten path. Since we were already drenched, our guides had us wade into the shallow stream, and then encouraged us to play under and in the waterfall. Though, at times, we were practically being beaten to death by the onslaught of water droplets, I would have to say that this was probably one of my coolest, and most favorite moments during my time in Costa Rica.

IMG_0831

I am so not a nature girl. Ask anyone. I would rather clean my toilet than do something like camping. And I think that people who call hiking fun or leisurely are one peach short of a fruit basket. But even I couldn't help but be absolutely mesmerized this day as I took in all of my glorious, breathtaking surroundings. Nature was definitely my friend.

This is one experience I will truly never forget. I am so glad I had the opportunity to do it, and I hope to experience it again someday.

IMG_0845

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Pity Party

Last weekend, I went on a little out-of-town jaunt to San Francisco (details of this trip will be given in another post). During the two days I was gone, I had no internet service. While I found this factor to be somewhat annoying (I am a total internet junkie), I really had no choice in the matter. So there you go.

Upon my arrival back into town, I received a voice mail message from my old roommate, Jamie. It went something like this:

“Courtney. I just saw your facebook status update. Call me! We need to talk.”

Eh?

My status update? As far as I could remember, my last facebook update involved my disgruntled emotions about being viciously attacked by my flat iron. Stimulating stuff, I know……but certainly not something that warranted an over-the-phone conversation.

I was a little worried now.

I ran downstairs and hopped online. I had 22 facebook notifications – all of which were comments on my “relationship status.”

Oh, no. This could not be good.

I clicked on my profile. Apparently, in the two short days I had been gone, I had gotten ENGAGED.

What the......WHAT?

Underneath the new status, I had comments from friends, relatives, and co-workers – either sending me congratulations, or accusing me of keeping my "engagement" a secret from them. Co-workers….oh, no. Some of my co-workers knew. Great. That meant come Monday, all of my co-workers would know, and I was going to have a lot of 'splaining to do.

How in world did this happen?

Well, as far as I can figure, in my haste to get out of work for my flight last week, I must not have logged off of my facebook account completely, and one of my cheeky co-workers must have taken it upon themselves to marry me off. I have yet to figure out who the culprit is, but trust me - I will!! In retrospect, I guess they could have done a lot worse things to my profile than changing my relationship status....but still!! That'll teach me to play on the internet when I'm supposed to be working.

Anyway, I quickly changed my relationship status, and posted an announcement that I was, in fact, NOT engaged. My profile now read "Courtney is no longer listed as engaged."

Okay, so some of you are going to think that I am pretty pathetic for what I am about to say. But, as I stared at the whole "Courtney is no longer listed as engaged" status on my page, and then as I had to repeatedly explain to co-worker after co-worker that I am, in fact, not betrothed, I started to get kinda sad.

I mean, I am happy with my life, and am totally content with my single-hood. But getting supposedly "engaged," and then subsequently "un-engaged," reminded me of just how single I am. Of how far away I am from actually uttering the words “I’m engaged” in real life (or on facebook, for that matter). And I felt a little downtrodden.

See, I told you. Pathetic, party of one!

Anyway, I’m okay now (no thanks to stupid facebook). And I’d like to share a little clip from my new favorite TV show, “Glee.”

Not only does this clip cheer me up and have me rolling with laughter each time I watch it, but the song has become my new mantra.

 

Don’t stop believin’, folks.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Costa Rica – Day 3 – Zippity Do Dah!!

So, of the plethora of activities we had to choose from while in Costa Rica, the one thing that all 20 of us wanted to do was zip-lining through the rainforest. In fact, before I left on this trip, I was told by no less than 10 of my friends and co-workers that this was the ONE thing I HAD to do while I was there.

Because of the large size of our group, the zip-lining company suggested we make a reservation ahead of time. So Mark, our fearless organizer, took it upon himself to make this reservation - for 7:30 in the morning.

I could have killed him on the spot.

And I think he could tell. "But, the weather’s cooler in the morning," he argued, "so we won't sweat as much."

Sweating?! Really?! That was his justification?! I could care less about my perspirational activities. I was on vacation, dangit, and I didn't want to get up at dawn!!

However, the rest of the group didn't seem to care as much about the unearthly hour of the reservation, so my pleas for extra sleep were ignored.

So, the next morning I dragged my groggy self out of bed at 6:30 a.m., and somehow managed to zombie-walk my way down to the tourist van that was was waiting to transport us to the zip-lining location.

Once there, we were herded into a little office where we were required to contractually sign our lives away, and then encouraged to put on copious amounts of bug spray. Oooo-kay.

Then we got strapped into our zip-lining gear. It's a good thing I don't have issues with personal space, because some of these guys got pretty friendly cinching me into my harness.

IMG_1736_JPG

Sexy, right?

Imagen 005

We were then introduced to our tour guides - all of whom had jungle names like "Monkey" or "Spider." These guys were pretty cool – and quite hilarious, I might add. They kept showing off on the zip-lines for all the girls – going down backwards, doing spinning tricks – and then they would say "But don't you do that."

I thought I was going to be more scared of this activity – I have a little issue with heights. But it wasn't bad at all. I wasn't scared. I didn't even look down. All I could see was the absolute beauty of the rainforest landscape in front of me.

Imagen 313

Imagen 210

Imagen 288

194

216

And apparently, I am incapable of spontaneously making any sort of a normal face in action pictures.

Imagen 072

Not one useable frame from this entire day. I am such a dork.

After zip-lining, we were hot and starving. Solution: Lunch in the pool!

243

Whilst in the pool, we admired the many various sunburns that had been acquired at the beach the day before.

Melissa’s fried legs (P.S. She had the WORST farmer’s tan under these board shorts from a cruise she took last summer, and she refused to remove them the entire trip. Poor sport.).

248

 

Mark’s (very blanchable) lobster back.

253

 

That’s oh so sexy, Jamie.

254

 

And my favorite, Dallin’s “Neapolitan” arm sunburn.

290

 

So, now we’re full of food. And, thanks to Mark and his early-morning wake up call (I’m not bitter or anything), completely exhausted as well. This was the result of that combination:

268

272

280

273

That’s right. A bunch of single people, passed out in various compromising positions and locations, in nothing but our bathing suits. Just another afternoon at the Playboy mansion.

While everybody was passed out, a few of us decided to go into town and check out the local scenery. We found this AWESOME smoothie stand that made smoothies in every flavor imaginable – including passion fruit!!! Anybody who knows me well, knows that I have an infatuation with this glorious tropical gift from the gods. As a result, this smoothie stand became my second home while we were in Manuel Antonio.

296

I am in absolute passion-fruity heaven.

 

Later on in the day, we had some intruders at our lovely villa. No, not the dangerous, thieving type - but the furry type.

IMG_1782

IMG_1783

n17815999_38368816_6014325[1]

IMG_1787

The rainforest that surrounded our villa was full of local wildlife – birds, sloths, lizards......and monkeys.  That afternoon, we were all just sitting there – relaxing in the pool and chatting in the family room – when all of a sudden, these little critters jumped onto the balcony and proceeded to scurry up and down our stairs and then out the back door. It was probably the last thing any of us expected to see INSIDE our living quarters. But pretty cool nonetheless. It felt like we were all on an episode of "Animal Planet."

That night we went to dinner, and one of the funniest things EVER happened.

307

My dear friend/roomie, Melissa, ordered herself a virgin strawberry daiquiri. In fact, we all ordered fruity smoothie drinks, and quickly consumed them upon their arrival. Well, about 15 minutes after Melissa finished hers off, she looked at me (with very dazed eyes) and said, "Something's wrong with me. I feel really dizzy." At first, I thought that she was just being overly dramatic about the fact that she was starving. But then she said it again, and proceeded to rest her forehead on the table like she was going to be sick.

Hmph. Very strange Melissa behavior.

I picked up her empty strawberry daiquiri glass and sniffed its remnants. Yup, you guessed it. There was nothing virgin about this drink.

As the rest of the group learned about this mishap, fits of laughter erupted. Melissa was probably the most quiet and reserved person of the whole bunch. Out of everybody there, she was the one who I could least picture being drunk (even unintentionally). Well let me tell you – get a little booze in her, and Melissa becomes a completely different person. The girl could not stop giggling (also very strange Melissa behavior), and she kept hitting me and saying “Hey!” every five minutes.

I tell you true, I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants.

I kinda like drunk Melissa.

Here she is, with the intoxicating culprit in front of her.

311

 

Okay, so that’s it for Day 3. Sheesh, at the rate I’m going, I won’t be done with this series until next Fourth of July!! Sorry folks.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Costa Rica – Day 2 – Chill…..

So, my roommate during this trip was my good friend Melissa.

530

Melissa and I have been friends for 5 years now. We met in LA, and immediately bonded over some commonalities: 1) We are both surgical nurses (I work in the Operating Room, she works in Recovery), and 2) We are both utterly retarded and completely hopeless when it comes to dealing with members of the opposite sex.

However, despite these commonalities, on this trip Melissa and I remembered that we have one really big difference, too - we are thermostatically incompatible.

Yes, it was bloody hot in Costa Rica - I will admit that. But Melissa cranked the air conditioning in our room down to 60 degrees, turned on the fan that was above our bed, slept with no covers on - and was still complaining that she was hot. And there I was - poor little Courtney - sleeping in flannel pajama pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, socks, and completely wrapped in the blanket. It was quite the ridiculous scenario, I tell you.

Anyway, despite our temperature differences, Melissa and I both crashed that first night. And we slept in the next day. And it was soooooo great.

Since we had had kind of a crazy and stressful time getting to Costa Rica, the group decided that we would just take it kind of easy and have a chill first day. And what is the most chill thing one can do in an equatorial Central American country? The beach, of course!

A couple of the guys in our group had woken up at 5:30 (?) that morning to surf. They told the rest of us that they had found a really awesome beach, located kind of in a harbor,  that we should check out. So, we threw on our suits, hopped in the cars, and drove there.

Soooooo, the beach - she was nice. Only one problem, though. It was now high tide. And the shore - she was now an island. If we wanted to get to the nice beach, we were going to have to swim across a river for it.

No problem. Yes, the distance to the other side was a little wide, but the water couldn't be too deep, and the current seemed pretty docile. My friends Mark and Tanya crossed first, holding their beach bags above their heads, with little effort. Next, my friend Lindsay and I crossed. I was swimming backwards, with my head bobbing just above the surface, holding the mesh bag with my beach items securely above it. It actually wasn't that bad. The water was deeper than I'd expected - too deep to touch the bottom. But it wasn't overly strenuous to cross.

Until the current picked up. Which was when I was about halfway across the river.

Now, I fancy myself a pretty good swimmer. I was raised in San Diego, and spent much of my childhood on the beaches of North County. But my swimming capabilities apparently drop dramatically when I am fighting a strong ocean current holding a ridiculously huge bag over my head.

Lindsay and I started drifting downstream, away from the rest of our friends. As I struggled against the current, I looked back at the rocky shore where I had first started. Since my embarkment, some locals had gathered - and they now were pointing and laughing at Lindsay and me. I could almost hear them now, mocking the silly, ignorant, American females who had actually tried to swim across the deep river - during high tide no less - to reach the beach shore. Looking back, it probably wasn't the smartest idea.....but it made sense at the time.

Well, Lindsay and I did eventually make it across. But it wasn't easy. And we were waaaay downstream from where we were supposed to be. And let’s just say that my beach bag was no longer above my head by the time we reached the shore. Yeah, I completely ruined my copy of "The Host."

Everybody else in the group was able to hitch a ride across the river in a motorboat that suddenly decided to show up. Yeah, apparently one of the locals saw an opportunity to make some money by charging everybody a dollar each to shuttle them across the gorge. And where was this helpful Samaritan when I was drowning, I ask you?

I didn't bring my camera to the beach (thank goodness), so I don't have any pictures of this ordeal. But I kinda wish I did. Or at least a video....

We spent the rest of the afternoon at two different beaches - the above-referenced one, and one that was further north. I  made a rookie mistake, though. Although it was quite warm outside, there was a thick cloud cover, making the weather seem really overcast. This lured me into a false sense of security when it came to sun exposure, and I did not reapply my sunscreen nearly as often as I should have. Boy did I pay for that. By the end of the day, I had turned a lovely shade of dark pink. And I am sure that if my mother had been there, she would have lectured me ad nauseam for these capricious actions. (When my sisters and I were kids, she used to lather us with Bullfrog sunscreen and make us wear t-shirts at the beach. Do you think that that could be considered child abuse?)

That night, we all went out to dinner at a restaurant called "El Avion." Translation: The airplane. Strange name for an eating establishment, I know. But the restaurant was built around an actual old WWII airplane.

IMG_1733_JPG

They even used one of the wings as the bar counter. Kinda funny.

So, the picture below (taken at the plane restaurant) is one of my favorite from the whole trip.

142

It may not look like much to the outside observer, but it is the implication behind the photo that I love.

Melissa HATES having her picture taken. And, as previously mentioned, I am a photo whore. I am constantly seeking out the perfect shot, and will keep snapping away until I get it. Well, I was trying to get a cute picture of Melissa and I with our matching Pina Coladas, and I just couldn't get one that I liked. Finally, 15 shots later (I know, I need help), I did. Later, when I was looking through all the discards, I came upon this picture and busted up laughing at Melissa's expression. She looks like she is literally being tortured. I can just see it in her eyes, a cry for help - "Save me, please, from this flashbulb-obsessed maniac!!" She is such a good friend to put up with me all the time.

When we got home, we discovered that we had a little visitor.

157

A 7-legged one, to be precise.

Yup, in Costa Rica, they grow everything big – including insects. Once spotted, this little intruder evoked much screaming and pointing and running from our little group. Jonathan decided that he would try and catch it humanely, so that he could release it back into the wild from whence it came.

Yeah, that was a good idea in theory. Excepting that he tried to catch it using a bread basket full of gaps. Nice, Jonathan.

Spidey was eventually captured and set free, but it was not without much effort and drama – and noise, from the terrified bystanders.

Well, that is it for Day 2. Phew! I promise that the next few posts will not be such novels!