sayulita, mi amor

I lay in bed the other night, listening to the whirring fan in my room, trying to imagine that it was the sound of a ceiling fan. A ceiling fan, gently moving cool evening air over my skin as I slept off all the tiredness that sun, sand and strangely, relaxation, brings. But the fan noise was that of my space heater that runs periodically in my room to keep it up to a robust 60 degrees while I huddle under 3 heavy blankets trying to get my feet to warm up. I am mourning the loss of the warm sun.

Mexico, this year, was perfect. We did very little. I began with reading books, taking walks and setting life goals and slowly evolved to just laying still and doing nothing, sometimes without even leaving the apartment. We even preferred the ease and deliciousness of our favorite burrito counter instead of the commitment and effort it took to go to a restaurant. Claire's margaritas were more delicious than anything we could find in town, so that simplified the cocktail hour as well.

It was also a nice break from pants. I made it my short term goal to wear pants as little as possible. Not on the beach, not in the apartment and sometimes not in town (skirts don't count as pants, although are also desirable to take a break from). It went well. You can do a lot with towels and staying away from open windows. Socks were obviously not permitted on the trip outside the airplane.

This is the view from our apartment at the fabulous Sayulita Trailer Park. We reserved the same room as last year, it was that good. We got to enjoy the music from the garden restaurant below, and spy on the customers and listen to their dinner conversations.

The Trailer Park was mostly unchanged and still provided the same beachfront location, outdoor shower, ping pong table, communal open air television area and lovely service.

This year's surfing portion of the trip went wildly better than last. I rented a board for one day when the afternoon's tides and weather looked to be shaping up just right. A layer of clouds came up as I was preparing to go out, which helps with glare and sunburn. I scanned the left and right breaks, and miraculously the main break down the beach, usually littered with 30 or so people fighting for the same wave, only had 3 other people out. Perhaps the possibility of rain scared everyone else in.

I carefully checked the beach for giant breaking waves that would smash me into the sand and then headed straight out past the beginners to the big girl wave. I relished the calm wait as I sat on my board and waited for swells, like a proper surfer. I caught several gentle, rolling, slow friends and enjoyed the reality of unbroken waves and seeing straight to the rocky bottom, zooming beneath me as I stood. What a difference! Compared to Sayulita, Westport, WA makes you feel like you've gone to surfing hell - an endless barrage of messy, broken, powerful waves that knock you around and refuse to give you a clean ride. I had a great time in the water. I gathered a handful of bruises and sore ribs that always come with warm water surfing for me, but I was glad to have gotten a great session in without major disaster.

The week was just what I needed. We roommates got all caught up with each other. We laughed and ate and danced Salsa Night, all together. I couldn't help but feel blessed that instead of wanting a vacation away from my roommates, I wanted to spend the week with them, and got to do just that. Not everyone has such nice people to keep house with. Viva la trifecta! And Viva Sayulita.

mexico, my precious

Spring Break for Adults, Part II has begun. I fly to Sayulita in the morning. I hope this year there is less of this and more of this. One week off from work to sleep, eat, walk, read, swim, surf, dance and rest. Let the good times roll! Whooo!

workahood

South Lake Union has a bit of an attitude problem. I don't know if it's all the new buildings or the fancy places that can afford to rent them, but it's drawn the wrong crowd. I went into the bank the other day to cash a check. I was standing in line, and one teller hollered from his counter across the way that if I just had a deposit that I could go over to his station. I said, "Oh, I just want to cash this check." He raised both eyebrows to the roof. "Um, well, do you have an account here?" He didn't look me up and down, but somehow, with his peripheral vision, he did. I was a little taken back, and hesitantly answered, "um...yes..." while I began to shuffle ahead. I stole my own quick glance down at myself to make sure I hadn't accidentally dressed as a bag lady and left a needle hanging out of my arm.

After that I stopped in at Starbucks to use the rest of a gift card and get a little snack before the class at my fancy gym. I stepped up to the pastry display and looked over its contents which were a little slim at the late hour in the day. I said hello and asked to make sure everything they had to eat was out. The young man standing a few feet away at the register said that everything was. I eyed some yellow slices of bread and decided that was more approachable than a huge piece of pie or crumbly muffin. I said, "Yes, I would like a piece of that bread right there please." I heard no response and saw no movement. I looked up to see if he heard me, and he was staring right at me. He said, "bread?" "Yeah, that bread right there." "Do you mean the lemon loaf?", he replied. We played the staring game for a moment while we both fought the urge to roll our eyes. I gave in, "Yes, that's right, the lemon loaf, please." He nodded slightly and began to move towards the glassy shelves.

Luckily, I have made a friendly and down to earth discovery. A Thai food truck has arrived at a parking lot near my office! Mobile, delicious goodness for $6.50. I ordered myself some noodles at noon today and leaned up against the truck and read a book while I waited for my order. The sun was warm and I walked down to a bench near Lake Union to eat. I licked my clam shell container clean and marveled in the idea that food can be cheaper when you don't have to pay for a chair. The Thai truck is a little piece of Pioneer Square, which has rolled right up to SLU to bring things down a notch. I am thankful for that.