Tag Archives: orange county

yesterday was ridiculous.

28 Nov

I’m not very good at talking about sensitive (to me) subject matter in a tactful and discreet way, at least not in writing, so┬álet’s just say that 8:30 am breakdowns, stiffly silent car rides, and shouting in church parking lots do not make for the most calming way to start your day. And finding out, when you’re sitting in Starbucks with a huge and bright red suitcase next to you waiting to get picked up, that your ride’s car has broken down three miles away and now both of you are stranded half an hour from home, is not that great of a way to continue it. It was definitely a could-this-day-get-any-worse moment. Not that I was annoyed. I just felt so bad. Poor Kyle.

Finally his car started working again and he made it over to Starbucks to pick me up. Our original plan had been to go to the beach (it was 85 degrees and I was seizing what may have been my last chance to swim in the ocean this year) and I was totally expecting him to be all, “Let’s just go home.” Honestly, at that point, I would have been kind of fine with that. And that’s what I would have said if I was him. But instead, he was all, “Let’s go swimming.” So we went. (He even let me vent to him the whole way there.) And then I bought myself a burrito from Wahoo’s (so good! why don’t I eat there more often?!) and peppermint ice cream from Baskin Robbins. And then I was a much happier girl.

We didn’t end up getting to the beach until four, but I was determined to swim for a little bit – it used to be one of my favorite things to do, but I can’t even remember the last time I did it, and, like I said, I thought this might be my last chance. So we went in. It was freezing. And scary. And we were only in for five or ten minutes and I was EXHAUSTED by the time we got out. I think the whole thing sent my system into shock. But it was totally worth it.

And then I felt better.

Advertisements

the american dream

20 Jul

On Saturday Kyle and I went to the Orange County fair in Costa Mesa and spent the day gawking at animals, eating whatever delicious fair-food choices caught our fancy (and probably shaving five years off our lives in the process), questioning existence at the sight of a sign advertising deep-fried butter, almost melting in the heat, and laughing at all the strange sights the fair had to offer. My personal favorite was the wide, shallow pool full of big plastic bubbles you could climb inside for five dollars and roll around in while everyone looked at you and laughed. And you better believe I did. Can someone please open a zoo that is just kids rolling around inside plastic bubbles?

If you’re going to the fair, I suggest bringing about two hundred and fifty dollars in cash per person and some Tums, and can you please win me a Domo plushie at the carnival? The big one, thanks.