Bon Voyage to Three Ill-fated Men

This is happening. While traveling the world has long been found on my list of governing values, I never knew when it was really going to take off. In attempts to not sound too pretentious - money certainly is a slight prerequisite for international travel and that is finally coming around. You could travel with your parents...However going on any trip with your family at the age of 21 or older is about as fun as creating an ice luge of Lexington Steel, a famous and well-endowed black porn stars dick, using just your teeth and letting a group of college kids pour urine down the frozen slide into your enamel scraped mouth. I say this with all due respect to my loving parents, who  have traveled to beautiful locations. I am sure the sites are great, the new friends are even better and the food is "on point." But - my governing values while on the trip are not exactly in line with my parents, and I really don't see us coming to a common ground on what we see as enjoyable activities. I can see the conversation now:

Mom: "_________ do you want to go see the shoreline of Santorini on  Greece on a ocean tour?"

Me: "It's the shore, I'm physically standing on it."

Mom: "But ships are amazing and you might meet some nice people."

Me: "There is a bar down on the pier, apparently there are young college girls who have trouble with basic arithmetic, Id rather try my chances at meeting those people. Chances they are a bit more encourageable."

Mom: "_______ - That is rather rude and uncalled for. I thought we would do something nice... together."

Me: "Trust me, there is nothing that I want to do that we could legally partake in together, not even in Greece."

In just three and a half weeks I will be flying from LGA in New York City to San Jose, Costa Rica. From there, myself and two categorically insane college friends will board a shuttle that will take us 1.5 hours down the road to hell. Hell = Jaco, pronounced "Yako" with a short "a." Jaco has been compared to its counterpart for Spring Break tirps (Tamarindo),  quite tastefully; "If you want to hook up with single Europeans go to Tamarindo, if you want a prostitute and a bag of cocaine, go to Jaco." Needless to say the decision was made with a very short decision matrix, aka a coin with flip with heads on both sides. Heads we go to Jaco - Jaco here we come.

Honestly? There was some decision making, and while the "paid for sex villains" and Columbian bam bam does make my dick twitch, it was not the deciding factor. Jaco is well known for those seeking adventure; ATV tours through the jungles filled with animals that I cannot name, zip lines, bungee jumping, and surfing. The suft is supposedly phenomenal - which unfortunately does not appeal to me. Seeing as I have never stepped a foot, or even laid my body on a board, "epic surf" is sincerely not needed. A fucking swimming pool with a long board moving side by side would easily do the trick and serve as a tangible lesson. Instead, I will pretend to paddle on the sandy shore of Jaco beach, imagining its anything like the high seas. Then I will head out 50 meters, attempt "catch" a wave, fail to stand up, slip and unstrap my harness. This will be concurrent with being pulled under by the mystical undertow only to watch my forehead line up through the transparent and flourescent water with a thick sharp piece of coral. Sounds fun. Looking forward to it. Punishment.

There will be a follow up post to this which will likely explain a series of indiscretions followed by an tutorial on my trip to the Mass General Free STD clinic. The conversation with the nurse is likely to go as follows:

Nurse: So, everything was fine three months ago. Why are you back?

Me: Just got back from Costa Rica.

Nurse: So what does that mean? What are we testing for?

Me: I dont want to waste your time, the labs time, or Mass tax payers money. Just give me four pink pills and we will call it a day.

Nurse: Well, I cannot legally do that.

Me: Okay - well then stick that cue tip in my dick hole and lets do this the quick and hard way.

This trip consists of 3 man-children riding aimlessly on vespas along Costa Rica's Pacific coast - clinging onto glimpses of our adolescence as they fly around the humid air getting stuck along the way. It is because of those glimpses of immaturity and hopeless struggles to maintain youth that we continue to live wild, free, and content. While the fucks we give about what people think of our vagrant actions soar into the sun dripped sky, we will smile, sip rum, and sing a favorite collegiate tune. The days will zoom by like a Mazda commercial and we will soon return back to the cold chilling reminder of reality that lies in the Northeastern part of the United States. That is why we will revel in every moment we have - drink an extra glass of rum, zip from the higher tree, fuck the model and the fat chick for the story, crack our heads on coral, and sing out of tune.

Without governing values, we lead a life of no guidance, no pursuance, and a pathless journey.

Here's to another adventure. To be continued...

Where have you gone.

Dear Man

I gave in to you. I lacked the things you needed the most. Your sweetness was wasted just to run and hide, seeking nothing but loneliness. Your heart filled up the milky way, but we were traveling in parallel universes. Never once did you look at me like you did at that far away distance. The tolerance you had for the bottle surpassed all that you had for my kindness. Did you ever wake up feeling like you needed somebody? Were you ever afraid?

I cling to songs that make me think of the nights where smoke drifted softly against my hair from your brilliant mouth. Does it feel better where you are? Do those people in your stories measure up to reality that you could not stand to be around?

Am I selfish to love a man who has not love to give but love to steal. Why, you devils Robin Hood – poaching the hearts of those rich in love, only to feed your poor soul. You are too far gone now. Your rusty beard indicates your nonchalant approach at maintaining awareness. Your sunken eyes are kept afloat by the bags that lay underneath them. They tear holes through passerby strangers as to get a better look at the emptiness that lays beyond the tightened skin that once supported a man worthy of knighthood.

With tainted love,

Girl