giggle pop

After telling the tale of the Mardi Gras horse Miss Jaco asked me to share our adventures at Jaco Beach in Costa Rica…one of the many times we took our adventures international. We had just spent 2 weeks in Costa Rica taking classes with our law school. I would be an understatement to say that it was one of the most dramatic 2 weeks of my life, almost traumatic. At the same time it was a frickin’ great time. Here I am with about the only two people I could stand by the end of the trip… Miss Jaco and another friend.



We went through about everything you could imagine…vacationships, ending of friendships, strengthening of friendships, crazy new friendships as well as more alcohol and avocados than anyone could imagine. My liver hurts even thinking about that summer. After our school program ended it was time to get out of San Jose and do a little soul searching/cleansing.

As you see me here in this candid shot on one of our last nights in San Jose with the program giving my best “bitch please” pose…this picture sums up the trip pretty perfectly. Knowing me I was drunk and probably actually saying “bitch please” at the time.


Once the program ended I made plans to travel with Miss Jaco for a few days before we headed home. We spent a while deciding which beach to go to and what hotel to stay at. After some planning we picked to Copa Cabana at Jaco Beach. As I said we needed a weekend of soul searching/cleansing. Little did we know we picked an ocean side Costa Rican whore house with a view, and what do you know there was no better place.

The arrival, after an incredibly awkward van ride (all due to previous drama) we arrive at our hotel, the copa cabana. It is starting to get dark so we sit by the pool enjoying some drinks and order a pizza, and thinking “damn this is living.” When all of a sudden a group of middle aged men come over to our area, they brought an endless supply of imperial (Costa Rican beer) so we begin to chat. They explain they are there for a friends birthday celebration and ask why we are at this particular hotel. Well it turned out the hotel was mostly filled with prostitutes, and they were curious because we clearly were not prostitutes. After a few beers we begin to ask them questions about how this whole prostitute thing works and why exactly they would do such a thing…and what resulted was a very informative conversation I would rather forget. I did learn one thing however, my future husband will NEVER go to Costa Rica without me.

We make more friends at the hotel, some there for the hookers some not. We have one big fun chat session by the pool. At one point we received salsa dance lessons from one of the prostitutes, it was free. After hanging out at the hotel for a while a bunch of us decide to go out on the town and drink some more. On our way to some fun bars, some of the guys decided they would take us on a walk through of a very interesting bar…

The Beatle Bar
This bar had a simple black sign with white writing and it said “Beatle Bar” from the outside it seems like any other bar, but when you go in you can tell quickly something is just off. All you see is a lot of people talking in pairs, a lot of older men and a lot of younger women. It is very hard to explain, but it was a very interesting experience.

We spend the rest of the night out with random people from our hotel, including a very nice mattress salesman who was not there for the prostitutes, he was on vacation with his cousin.

The Cousin
The next day we go walk on the beach, lay by the pool, and relax in general. That night we hang out at the hotel bar drinking, not really sure what happened that night because after 2 weeks of heavy drinking and two nights in a row of staying out until dawn I fell asleep at about 8pm. But apparently Mr. Matress Salesman goes out. Later that night Mr. Matress Salesman wakes up to some disturbing sounds and comments as cousin and his new friend get to know each other. Mr. Matress Salesman goes and sleeps on beach, tells us about how disturbed he was by this the next morning. I go ziplining in the jungle (awesome by the way). After some evidence collecting Miss Jaco and Mr. Matress Salesman figure out Cousins friend is most likely a prostitute, and cousin somehow ended up going to a family picnic with her.

You can see me here soul searching on the beach


After yet another night of drinking followed by another day of laying by the pool and playing on the beach we decide we will spend our last night relaxing and having a quiet dinner at the hotel. Quiet dinner turned into many glasses of wine and about 8 shots of patron…each. While we never left the hotel we had one of the most wonderful conversations about life and all the adventures we had been through together. We talked about, life, love, lack of love, drama, mean people, nice people, and realized that night just how much our friendship meant.

We went to the beach for some soul cleansing, and while we witnessed some of the dirtiest sides of life, we walked away from Jaco Beach with souls cleansed, baptized by Patron. At times all we could do was laugh and/or be disturbed but in the end it was one of the most interesting experiences of my life. I saw a side of the world that I guess I always knew existed but never thought I would really see, and then there I was a spectator in the middle of it all. After everything we went through in the previous two weeks we needed a shock to the system to shake us out of the bubble we were in for that two weeks. When it came down to it all we needed was a weekend in a brothel with an ocean view and a whole lot of tequila.

Me and Miss Jaco at the beach on our life changing weekend

A while ago someone asked me to explain when I meant by “that horse at Mardi Gras” when referring to being attacked by animals. I figured telling this story would give you, my readers, a deeper insight into just who I am. So here it is, the story of how I almost got into a fight with a horse. Really I was defending myself so it is the story of how a horse attacked me and I almost fought back.

Let’s go back a few years, it was my first year of law school in New Orleans, and it was my first Mardi Gras. I figure I should explain the few days leading up to the equestrian encounter so you can understand just how I ended up wanting to fight a horse. It was Friday afternoon and a girl I did not know all to well yet, let’s call her Miss Jaco, gave me a call and asked me to go to a parade. Wanting to get in on this whole Mardi Gras thing, and never one to pass down drinking on a street I of course said yes. I get picked up by Miss Jaco, another friend who I will call “Limbo” and Miss Jaco’s boyfriend at the time, lets call him “Freddy.” We all head to the parades giant daiquiris (with extra shot) in hand, and start jumping up and down trying to catch beads and other cheap plastic doo-dads which I had no problem pushing children, bitches, and old people out of the way to get.

I learned after that first parade, I frickin’ LOOOVE Mardi Gras. It involves many of my favorite things: festive costumes, cheap toys, colorful things, drinking on the street, large drunken crowds, endless walking, and just general inappropriate behavior. Now most people from New Orleans hang out on the parade routs in neighborhoods, there is lots and lots of partying and not really any of that flashing stuff, thankfully. After the parades ended our little group wandered to one of our many favorite watering holes F&M’s patio bar. If you have never been to New Orleans or never wandered off of Bourbon Street on your visit let me explain F&M’s to you. We would often refer to it as “the black hole.” It looks just as sketchy inside as it does outside…and that is pretty damn sketchy. It is unwise to show up before 1am, and unheard of to show up before midnight. If you go in, it is a miracle if you get out before 6am, if you leave there before 6am it will only be to go to an even sketchier bar that will be open even later. It also has the most incredible cheese fries, they may be the single best drunken food on the planet, they are magical. We stayed there until god knows when, and I luckily ended up in my bed.

I wake up a few hours later, parades start early on Saturday, and we had to get there plenty early to get a good spot. So this day it was just me, Miss Jaco, and Freddy. We get our giant daiquiris, load up the cooler and head out. Spend the day at parades, wander various bars and then decide to go to a friend’s apartment, let’s call him “tool bag” in the warehouse district which is in proximity to the French Quarter. Now let me explain, I had not even come close to sobering up when I woke up Saturday morning, and I had started drinking almost immediately so by the time we arrived at tool bag’s apartment I had been considerably drunk for about 28 consecutive hours.

After drinking at tool bag’s apartment for a while the three of us leave and wander to Bourbon Street for the “experience.” We start wandering down the street and get a Hand Grenade (another special highly alcohol filled New Orleans drink, like the giant daiquiri). Bourbon Street is packed with people, crazy touchy people everywhere. I am kind of scared, very drunk and clinging to my friends and my hand grenade. We stop for a minute, and all of a sudden I feel something stomp on my foot. When I say stomp I mean STOMP it hurt sooooo bad. I start thinking “duuude, there is no way someone did that on accident, someone just stomped on my foot and I need to find out why.” So as I get over the initial pain I turn around with my arms out in my best pissed off pose and say “what is your problem” expecting to see some d-bag who stepped on my foot.

When I turned around it was not a person, in fact I had NO idea what it was. All I saw was a giant weird looking creatures face looking at me. I was beyond confused, and said quietly and intensely “WHAT ARE YOU??!!??” In a miraculous moment of clarity I realized it was a horse, not just a horse, a horse with a policeman on it. And I then realized my plan to push and/or confront whoever it was that stomped on me was not in fact a good plan. It was in fact a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad plan, and I scurried away confused.

The next morning I was woken up by the scent of a full hand grenade (we must have gone back for seconds) and was never in such pain. Not only in pain from a hangover, but also the intense smell of midori, and the ginormous bruise on my foot.
I learned many valuable lessons that night:
1. Mardi Gras brings out my fightin’ side
2. Horses are to be feared, and I still fear and avoid them
3. I am certain the horse intended to step on me
4. You can actually get drunk enough to not be able to recognize the most basic of farm creatures
5. Never fall asleep cuddling with full hand grenade the smell is hands down the worst smell ever when hungover
6. Any time I start drinking before noon usually ends both simultaneously horribly and hilariously
7. Miss Jaco ended up being one of my best friends and this was far from our last or most epic drunken adventure.
and I think the most interesting part of this all is that this story does not surprise most people I know in the slightest, and this was only night two of my five day Mardi Gras bender.

This picture is of a stuffed horse I caught at my third, and likely final, Mardi Gras…I took it as a sign that life always comes full circle.

Okay I am going to begin this with a little rant. Unless you watch American football, and even then, ESPN has to be one of the worst sports networks on the planet. The powers that be should stop these idiots from getting the rights to ANY sporting event. I am not going to even begin to talk about their champions league coverage, all I can say is THANK-GOD Fox has the rights for next year and PLEASE do better, not that it would be hard.
I am sitting here 11:00 on the first day of the masters, and there is golf being played. Am I seeing ANY of it, NOOOO? Nope, ESPN thinks they should just replay sportscenter fifteen times and start showing the masters when the day is almost done at 2:00pm. OH they are also showing NFL live, ummm WTF didn’t throwball end months ago? ESPN has about 10 channels they could show it on, but nope ALL are replaying their crappy shows. I am currently getting all my updates on the leaderboard (ESPN is not even showing that!) on the golf channel. Btw I think the golf channel has great coverage, and if they had the rights to the first few days of the masters (like they do with most tournaments) I would be watching live golf right now. Sorry had to get that out. AM I wrong on this, or is ESPN the WORST sports network imaginable?

On to happier stuff—FOOTBALL!!
Arsenal drew with Villareal and ManU drew with Porto in the first legs of their champions league quarterfinals. Barca dominated Bayern 4-0, and now I am praying for a miraculous Bayern recovery in the next leg. On one hand the longer Barca stays in the CL the more tired they will be in La Liga and the better it is for Real Madrid. On the other hand I do not want Chelsea to have to face Barca in the next round of the CL, and well I am also cheering for Bayern for the prospect of a naked Luca Toni, mmmm.

But the real excitement?!?! CHELSEA beat Liverpool 3-1 ATTTTTT anfield. I get happy chills even saying it. Fernando Torres scored in the first 6 minutes, but then it was one way traffic from the Blues. Two headers from Ivanovic, I cannot describe my love of him right now. Didi put a pretty one in as well, and also had a few other nice chances. Captain JT got a bs yellow card, and since he had one from a previous game so he is out for the return leg at the Bridge. Ricardo Carvalho *sigh* should finally be back, so he can help hold down the back line, and Frankie will captain (I assume). I can’t say I won’t enjoy Frank Lampard in the armband. Anyways, it was a great performance from the boys in blue, and I am beyond proud of them. It has been a tough season and they deserved this!!

The masters started today. I have not seen any of it yet (see above). I am of course cheering for Camilo, I bet he looks good in green, and he is my favorite to watch. However, I think above all I am cheering for Sergio Garcia, I want to see him win a major one of these days, and am sad I have not been seeing much of him lately.
Oh and I recently found out the tour championship is being played in Minnesota!! I am working on getting tickets. If I do, Camilo, Sergio, Adam, etc…prepare to be ogled. Mmmmm.

I rediscovered my love of boxed wine, and wine in general. Believe me I have a pretty comprehensive knowledge of the beverage, well at least well more than the average person, I even sold wine for a while. The name of my blog is actually taken from a tasty little Australian number made by molly dooker (it is not available in a box unfortunately). However, I still highly enjoy the convenience of boxed wine. There are some decent everyday ones out there…unfortunately not in northern Minnesota, but that does not mean there are not some good ones out there. Here are a few reasons why boxed wine is awesome.
· 1) It stays good for weeks so you can have one glass at a time. If you are single like me and enjoy having a glass (or three) of wine, like to drink alone in a dark closet (j/K) and are sick of being judged for drinking the whole bottle by yourself it is a great option.
· 2) A box is equivalent to four bottles and usually around $20 (for a decent one) that is $5 a bottle my friends.
· 3) Good to have around for cooking, if you use wine for cooking. Though my cooking involves wine, it is more in the form of drinking a few too many glasses and then making ramen noodles and/or a pop tart.
· 4) The right box can fit inconspicuously on any bookshelf. I had one throughout much of my senior year of college I continuously replaced but always had a post-it on it that read “Chateau Heidegger appellation Dasein”. (yes I realize Heidegger was German and I am using French wine terms, and the name makes no sense).

5) Sometimes you just gotta Keep it class yo.





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