I'm in Costa Rica and it's very hot. BE JELOUS.
So, my trip started off on a rather terrible foot. I was scheduled to arrive at t he airport about an hour and a half before my plane was going to leave, and I initially thought that that would be pleanty of time, but I spent most of the trip with visions of planes leaving without me dancing in my head. And then got through to my gate in 15 minutes. The boy who sat next to me on the Seattle->Las Vegas leg was extremely verbose in a mumbly awkward way. He was on exchange to western from UCLA, and told me everything there was to know about environmentalism, Che Guavara, and why Bellingham weather was impossible. Every time I tried to read he would be like "oh, so I guess it's READING Time now, huh..." and I'd feel bad and talk to him some more. He was pretty interesting none the less. After we left the plane he said he had to hurry to catch a connection. 2 hours later I saw him in a bar and chuckled silently to myself. Las Vegas was terribly exciting, all 3 hours of being in a chair. I met a woman from Victoria BC who was terribly old and astonishingly cool. She had had problems on almost every connection of the trip and had taken almost 2 days in getting to las vegas, but was thrilled to be telling the story. Especially the part where Seattle had no power so she couldn't call because she couldn't see the numbers. That was her favorite part. No joke, she was laughing hysterically. I also met a very insane black woman. As in, medically. That flight left at 11 Pm and landed at 5AM so I slept. Next to an adorable set of best friends going on an adventure. Then 6 hours of North Carolina. Crazy woman ran into me outside of the plane and I helped her carry her stuff for a while until we found an awesome very very very souther baptist black woman to transport us on her scazzy crazy fast trolly. It was all very lucky that I was with crazymccrazalot because it turns out that the airport is a 5 mile trip from one end to the other in a kind of horseshoe shape. I fell asleep in the middle of a circle of chairs, and when I woke up they were all occupied by mexican men who insisted that I was about to miss my flight to Mexico City. Which obviously couldn't have been the case as all the seats were clearly reserved for those who were mexican and penisified. Short hair, I guess. On the flight there was this family of curly haired children who were separated from their mother, but the oldest one was taking care of them. I was so tired and annoyed that I became overwhelmingly impressed with her maturity and burst into tears, startling everyone. The customs officials were angry that I didn't speak much spanish despite the fact that no one else did either. Dad and I took a bus into the city, a bus whose policy was to almost hit other cars and then honk a lot. We caught a cab who also liked to honk. The roads are both messed up and very very confusingly windilicious. I ate some fish, went to bed at 5pm and woke up at 8am