10 Bitter Happy Things

I realize I have subconsciously turned away from fully embracing Sayulita, I can't decide exactly what it is about this town that keeps me from saying whooo hoo full on.

I am having an awesome time  however!

here are 10 bitter happy sayulita things

bitter:

1. the americans

2. the AWFUL bad terrible tattoos from 1992 that have invaded this colony

3. bongo drums playing at random and in my face while reclined

4. pushy "stuff" sellers on the beach who don't even bargain  (AT ALL)

5. yogi's

6. the prices -- i'm pretty much in america or paris 

7. the bumps in the road

8. bridey

9. tampons are gold and expensive

10. older super gnarly hippies who yell at you in bars

happy:

1. the surf

2. the very nice helpful locals

3. the local kids

4. costa verde

5. sayulita fish taco 

6. the chocolate ice cream

7. the kick ass blue beach chairs with built in visors

8. la policia

9. bff. kris , loren

10. villa amor

It's all the americans. that's the issue.

Situation Sayulita

NIght 1.


We arrived at our new home here in Sayulita and have been settled MAYBE 25 minutes at Casa Jacaranda, we decide to get a ride into “town” (about a 15 minute walk) from driver Roberto who just zipped me in from the airport.

Starved.

We had an awesome dinner on the beach sliding into Sayulita life,  it’s about 10pm …post dinner we look for a taxi as Roberto suggested and we’re talking TINY town, a plaza a few streets, handful of shops, restaurants etc and that’s it.

Nothing resembling a taxi in sight, just blaring music from the bars, randoms and sketchies chilling in the plaza, tourists fluttering about and around1030 it seemed no one was in the streets, really… we couldn’t find a taxi so BFF says “let’s just walk “

Its dark. It’s Mexico, unpaved dirt roads, no streetlights think back alley and you got the visual.

Issue #1

Hooded guy walking with other guy
BFF has eye contact –I say seriously you just had eye contact with that guy? She says, “Shit I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it”

I think great, now hood guy thinks BFF wants his ass. We’re so getting gang raped.

I pull her across the street as a means to distance ourselves from hoodie– BTW I saw this basic safety maneuver somewhere in some 20/20 special not thinking Id ever really rock it, I’m totally rocking it right now.

Think uphill dirt road with about 7 side dirt road options to the left as you go up hill. We start walking and realize we have ZERO idea what our address is, and ZERO idea which road leads to our house…it’s all on whatever memory we have combined –which at this point is ZERO. Sweet Jesus.

One of the guys turns left and disappears…hoodie is now solo.
We see him slide off to his house pass him by and suddenly realize we kind of have to ask him where our house is—and BFF is like HELL NO.

So I ask "Hey, do you know where casa jacaranda is?"

He says "No. …"
 (hood comes down—bff and I realize he’s kind of hot Mexican .com)  “You girls should be careful walking alone in Sayulita at night”

Thanks dude for that, as if we aren’t scared enough and kind have realized this about 15 minutes back.

“Sorry I don’t know where it is”

“Well don’t be sorry just know that if we cant find it were coming back here to have you help us!” (And make out with you)

We proceed forward alone jetting off five streets up  to what we think is the right street leading up to our casa-WRONG. BFF is holding my hand we thankfully had a flashlight that Roberto gave us…. It's seriously sketchy , no lights,  dark, stray dogs following and barking at us, I'm totally getting in tiuch and presenting them with my inner caesar milan acting like the domninating pack dog ,

All we really recall is  we live on the steepest hill of all. This current street we hit  is just  not steep enough

We proceed back to main road and hit another road up, wrong road, we re tired, dirty, scared and OVER IT

Suddenly at the main road we see the policia we saw in the plaza

I hail him down, lean into his window explain the situation in my awesome spanglish, he does not really get it but gets that he needs to drive us somewhere….

Passenger Cop steps out of the truck I look across and he is in full Mexican policia gear—dark uniform, some patches and of course the required creepy stashe and what gets me into holy shit were going to die mode is the full on major piece of weaponry that his wearing across his chest—it’s basically a fully automatic weapon the kind the Taliban carry in the desert. As if that isn’t horrifying enough, he use to point to the inside cab suggesting me and BFF slide into the front seat with them…
YEAH RIGHT why don’t we both just get into our panties and bra and help you personally gang rape us in the front seat –and then drive us up that mountain and drop off our bodies to never be found.

Seriously I thought how the F___ are we getting out of this one.

I let him know – we’re ok we’ll both sit in back he is insistent I am more insistent I tell BFF to start getting her ass in the bed of the truck
She’s slightly freaking out. I’m just trying to be some bad ass in a sundress with a flashlight.

All I think is how Andres and Phineas would KICK MY ISLAND ASS for even being in this position—they would just die if they knew. Fortunately I found Jesus recently and just looked up and prayed the Hail Mary 5 times in a row,

We’re just in hell. In Mexico. This is not so much living the dream.

After going up three totally wrong dirt roads to our higher up destination Mexican mansion on the sky…we Finally arrive at Casa Jacaranda relieved we are still alive and panties still in place, we fly as fast as we can up our steep San Francisco driveway and start laughing our asses off at the basic brush with statistics we almost had.

Not the smartest move, but not a bad story for NIGHT#1 lord. What will night #2 bring at this rate?

Can I Get an Upgrade?

BFF suggested that I write a bitter happy on location here in Sayulita. We've only been here 25 hours and lots has already happened just perfectly fitting for the bitter happy blog.

Two items to address now that we have actually been in Sayulita about 25 hours.
After my 15 hour travel day, I arrived in Sayulita and was coordinating the lodging check-in while BFF was delayed in the rain but on her way. As soon as I walked into the Agency to pick up the keys, I found out we had been upgraded, oh so kindly, by my new friend Jorge, the property manager. Originally we were slated to stay in the Jacaranda Casita: the studio apartment. It was donated to see and sprout and it would be FREE to us for the week. Anyhow, when we arrived, We were upgraded to the Main house, Casa Jacaranda because it wasn’t rented for the week and the blow up mattress for the casita wasn’t available. We were told though, if the house became rented we would need to move out. And Jesus, Lord had blessed us for coming to Sayulita to work with the kids; the house was a two bedroom/ two bathroom/ two floors of Mecca beauty. It has a little blue pool and huge patio. We enjoyed our first night in the main house, got up today and ventured to the beach in our golf cart and then to Costa Verde School for a See and Sprout pre-camera day with the kids. We went grocery shopping, did some touring and then arrived back at the house. I started to troubleshoot the Wifi while BFF talked to Kris with a K. Then, without any notice, the owners of beautiful Casa Jacaranda arrived from San Francisco. They were as shocked to see as we were them. So- essentially within 20 minutes, we were kicked to the curb and relocated downstairs to the casita. So is the story of Bitter Happy. We are now in the queen bed together, journaling on our computers.

The second item to discuss is our lovely first evening out on the town AND our return back to the main house- but BFF will be writing that one.

Travel's Eve

She isn't very mellow. She is generally very busy; organizing, checking lists, laundry, cleaning, trying not too pack too much while bringing enough for a month, eventhough the trip will only be ten days. She keeps me awake. Not too many things keep me from sleeping, but she does.

Highschool Sweetheart

I just came across this in a photo folder from an old computer. Why do we fall in love with bad boys? I know BFF has one of Phin somewhere to post...

Then I found a letter that I wrote to him while he was in prison. I feel like I was much wiser then...

march 13, 2002
dear Jason,

hello. i almost broke today. work was so very demanding. I felt so overwhelmed. I am overwhelmed. have to find a place to live, have to get a smog check, do the taxes, find a place to live—find a place to have me. uhg. I want to let you know that it is okay for you to write me, whatever you want, whenever you want. I know the things that you have always desired, they are the same as my own, and I encourage you to trust me… you always have and just because a little voice inside your head says, ‘don’t write, don’t see anyone…’ doesn’t mean you have to pull away from the dearest ones to you. you are in prison for christ’s sake! you need love… love is a part of you. don’t neglect those feelings. for if you do, you will become harder than what you imagine that that place may have made you. one of your goals should be to maintain a beautiful image of the world. sure, you can come out jaded, mistrusting and live in vain of the world you have learned so much about from having your perspective… but don’t.

I know that when I graduated school I had such distain for everyday life, everyday people, jobs, homes, consumerism, politics… all of it. I consider the year after my graduation to be the hardest one yet. I couldn’t even stand walking into a grocery store, shelves of processed food, made by factories of people underpaid, made out of packaging with no consideration for the environment, and worst of all the evil ‘club card.’ electronic tape, panoptic sorting, categorizing, atomizing, undermining, isolating individuals as a mass. my distain, my over-sensitivity, my anger--- they all let me dig a hole into the ground that kept me in a dark lonely place. and you ask… “what happened, Karen? what made you change?” well, time took away a lot of the severity… taking care of my grandmother let me focus on personal, intimate issues, and yes, I will say it, skateboarding saved me. imagine that. something so simple. something that made me learn my balance in a different way, an activity that made me strive to be better, exhaust me with happy frustration. bonding with the kids who only talked about skateboarding, school, girls and parties. simplicity. you know my love of it. when you let things, and their complexities run around your mind over and over, you can come up with your own solutions or not, but I knew I was never the ONE to save the world. I let a lot of it go and let the intensity settle. I let myself learn to enjoy the things I looked forward to, and began to ignore all the information I had once held so passionately. some of that stuff would have caused me to give up on this life. would have let me settle into that dark hovel and never come out.

and that is what I have to say this letter. love is not a drug that will kill you. love is an emotion, that can bring you both great joy and great sorrow, but far from stories of past great authors, I know that in real life, love can make you grow regardless of it’s potential hurt, and happiness, it will let you grow, and give you peace. remember this.

I love your use of French in this letter. I am so happy to see you learning the language, French is so very beautiful, and I wish I was learning it as well. maybe I will get a book, or a tape and start to relearn it, I know I knew it when I was younger, but like anything, if you don’t practice or use it, your mind just seems to file it in the unused section and you forget.

so its about 11:33 pm, and I just got home from work about an hour ago, I put in a twelve hour day today. quite obnoxious if you ask me. the work load is incredible and the little train that could keeps chugging along… saying, I think I can, I think I can… and I do. I get most of it done, or at least all that I can take. and then close the computer down, and here I am at home, typing away, taking time for myself, writing to you…

I almost cried today. in fact, I welled up while at my desk, looking at database schema, and broken projects. I wanted to cry, I wanted to, but I didn’t. I haven’t cried in so very long, and I think its bad that I haven’t. its not a pride thing, I just haven’t been able to let myself cry. lately, all I want to do is sleep, a form of slight depression I assume. I have everything… and that is probably why I don’t let my emotions get to me. I rarely get wound up about anything, as always… but I am beginning to ask myself, “why haven’t you cried?” instead I hold it in, and get a headache.

I think this is all tonight. I will continue this letter tomorrow or the next.
goodnight. the wind is howling, reminds me of when I snuck out, drove the van up kanan, and stayed at your house for a few hours, with the fireplace glowing while the wind growled outside and moved everything.


Love,
karen