Sad face.
So, I will rely on my prolific writing abilities to create a more vibrant and expressive album than any 6.0 megapixles ever could.
So, I will rely on my prolific writing abilities to create a more vibrant and expressive album than any 6.0 megapixles ever could.
Morning. Wednesday. Momma so kindly drops me at the airport on her way to work. Ryan, my traveling companion for the next 7 days, is awaiting me inside the entrance. Like the seasoned travelers we are, no bag check required, and Ry-ry had wisely checked-in via the internet the night before. We cruised through security and plopped our asses at the gate. Without question, a rendition of Will Smith's Miami got its fair share of airplay on the soundtrack to our lives.
Two flights later (with a brief stint in Atlanta) we found ourselves in the hot bed of Florida sun, sand, and sexy motherfuckers: South Beach. Obviously, we felt at home.
The hostel was jammin'. Upon check-in we were greeted by a hip, friendly staff, clean and respectful roommies, and outgoing fellow travelers. The Jazz Hostel on South Beach (bringin' the heat) was the shit, if you will. In addition to the aforementioned points of positivity, the location was also bomb. Two blocks from the ocean and just on the edge of all the hot shops, clubs, bars, restaurants, and hotels that make South Beach what it is.
Day one was relaxed. We hit the sand and a TGIFridays and called it a night early. We did venture out briefly for a couple of drinks but found out quick enough that $12 a drink was the going rate, and that it was a little too rich for our hostel-staying pockets.
My illness definitely left me on the outside at times when I turned in at 10 pm while the party hadn't even started yet most nights. Somehow, I didn't miss it. I was there to take what I wanted and let the rest go. A new feeling for this girl, who's used to needing to be the center of attention and living in fear of missing out on anything--anything.
Day two: New Years Eve. This is the first time in my life I have been somewhere warm for NYE, and I took full advantage. A comfy mid/high 70's allowed for Ryan and myself to spend the daylight hours on the beach, even taking a shivery dip! The night was open and we discovered that our hostel was a hot spot in its own right, what with $1 drinks and a happening crew. I hit up some Mikes Hard Lemonade in the lobby, watched fire works on the beach at midnight with a few delightful Swedish ladies, and headed back to the Jazz before calling it a year around 2:30 in the morning.
The next two days were relatively uneventful, but certainly enjoyable. Filled with new friends from all over the world, a couple of Mike's, and two spiffy clubs (a mere $5 entrance fee for the hostelers =D)
Finally, what we'd been waiting for: SUNDAY. I woke up early (in the dress I'd been wearing the night before, with soaking wet hair...no, I have no idea either), tossed on my Pens t-shirt and Steelers jersey, and Ry-ry and I hit up a cab to the local enterprise to pick up our Hyundai Accent: our whip for the next twenty-four hours. Getting to the stadium was a fiasco all its own. but we made it, and pulled into the parking lot just in time to hear "We Are the Champions" on the radio.
Classic.
More to come on the big games and the rest of the trip in a future post. Gonna make this a two-parter. Gotta keep you on your toes and all.
