Buenos Diaz! So, remember those awesome friends I touched on last week? About this one particular group of them...
It all started a couple of years ago in early December: a
group of friends found themselves in San Diego on New Year’s Eve. This group of
10+ descended upon the Hilton San Diego Bayfront for a big fancy NYE
celebration. After a few get-me-while-my-makeup-is-still-fresh photo shoots, bottles
of 5 Hour Energy were passed around to rally the masses. The air was filled
with shouts of “Dude, I only want a little bit! How about like 17 minutes
worth?” or “Hey! Hit me! I need a full three hour swig!” Because once you’ve
reached or are approaching the ripe ol’ age of 30, you need staying power to keep
the party going till midnight.
Once adequately fueled, we entered the hip hop ballroom and
got down like fools without cares or fear of camera phones and Facebook. We ate
pieces of cold pizza and washed them down with tonics and liquors of
choice. At one point, someone set their
drink down in the middle of the dance floor and we all danced around it
Flamenco style to Macklemore’s “Thrift Shop.” Why? If you have to ask, you don’t
know my friends.
Before anyone expected it to, the clock struck twelve. We
went until our livers and feet allowed us to before heading to lobby where we
found a giant line of people. Clearly someone was giving away some free shit,
or a Kardashian or One Direction member was hosting a late-night meet and
greet. Alas, no- this stupid queue that went from here to mother-effing Whoville
was the line to catch a freaking cab out of this place. Neither my feet nor my
spirit were prepared for this nonsense. My feet hurt. I was thirsty. I was
tired. I wanted a bed.
Right when the crowd appeared to peak at both its
inebriation and lack of patience, out rang like a shot in the dark, “NAAAANTS
een-VEN-YAAAAAA ma-ba-GEE-chi-ba-va!!!!” A friend I’ll call Espiderman was
belting out the intro to Circle of Life. You know what else? He sang the
*whole* gosh damn thing. The rest of the group chimed in and at full throttle
volume much to the amusement of some and the sheer and utter annoyance of countless
others. Why? Again- if you have to ask…
It didn’t stop there. These weirdos transitioned seamlessly
to “A Whole New World” then slid right into “Friend Like Me.” They crooned out “Part
of Your World” then moved right on to “Under the Sea,” complete with some
impressive onomatopoeia for the sounds of that steel drum intro. All the while
a bottle of Fireball was passed around like a canteen. I tried to dodge the
bottle but someone got me like one of those rude sombrero and zarape clad dudes in TJ, rudely tilting
my head back and accosting my mouth and throat with cinnamon-flavored octane.
For reasons that should be obvious by now, I joined a group
of these same friends down in Baja California for wine tasting in the Valle de
Guadalupe for NYE 2014. A few of us headed down a day early to stay at the Rosarito
Beach-adjacent home of my friend Celina’s family friend, who happens to manage
15 or so properties down in the Las Gaviotas community. The house was an
amazing ranch-style home with gorgeous terra cota detail, a courtyard begging
for an outdoor fiesta to be had, and views of the ocean could fool you into
thinking you’d been teleported to Santorini. We dined on a delicious and simple
meal of (AMAZING) beans, guacamole and quesadillas, all with locally sourced
ingredients and with bottomless refills of a lovely red wine. I slept
comfortably by a toasty fireplace on a very fancy air mattress with blankets
aplenty. It was delightful- property managers are excellent hosts.
This courtyard tho...
Hugs from Baja
The next day we headed to the wine valley and went in search
of our B&B, a property out in San Antonio de las Minas. Right as we made
the turn from the main drag on to the road that would lead us to our
destination, it became apparent that the route to our destination involved a
wet, uneven and muddy road. We braced ourselves and drove forward in Celina’s low-riding
old school Lexus…
SKKRRRRRRRRR went Celina’s poor gas tank as it scraped
against hard-packed dirt, reminding us that a Lexus sedan doth not an off-road
vehicle make. Celi slowed to a mere roll and tried to maneuver around the uneven
patches, but the weight of a driver, four passengers and all of their luggage
was not helping the cause. There was only one thing left to do: lose some
passengers. Imagine, if you will, the odd Chinese fire drill of sorts that ensued
each time we came upon a puddle: three of
the five vehicle occupants getting out of the car then using sticks as
puddle-depth measuring tools to determine which way to best navigate Celi’s car.
Now throw in the appearance of some very hungry and fearless dogs that sent us
running back to the vehicle every so often. Adventure time! 
Still onward we went, only partially convinced that we hadn’t
been sold a bill of goods. We drove for some time, proceeding semi-confidently
only because of the occasional 8 ½ X 11 signs nailed to some fence or tree
stump assuring us that the property was indeed still ahead. The terrain was
rough and there just didn’t appear to be anything remotely resembling a bed and
breakfast nearby, to the point where we half-kiddingly joked that an abandoned
warehouse, a dilapidated shack or a Fisher Price playhouse by the side of the
road might be our illustrious place of lodging.
We did eventually arrive and met up with the other 10 or so
of our friends. Soon after checking in, we hopped on a shuttle en route to wine
country, and though the number of stops was limited due to New Year’s Eve winery
closures, a good time was had. I mean, with that many people and wine flowing
freely, we were going to enjoy ourselves one way or another. I knew this when we were poured some Grenache and someone in our group said, “St. Grenache is a dog, right? Like what Lassie was!”
Ready!
Really ready.
Remember us? La Gitana y La Bookworm
Celi enjoying a snack of Takis with her red wine, trying most unsuccessfully to convince my friend Leandra that this constitutes a delectable wine pairing.
"Quick, Vane! Before someone sees me!"
All the Single ladies.
After the wine tasting, we shuttled back to the B&B for
a dinner prepared by the staff, which started around 6pm and was intended to
stretch out course by course through midnight. We ate the soup appetizer and
main dish but at 9pm ran out of enough patience to sit and wait around for
dessert or midnight. We went back to our rooms for a little while and some of
us made it back downstairs later for a toast and/or bachata dance-off at
midnight. Several members of our group went on to stage yet another Disney Sing
Along in the property’s communal dining room. I held on till around 12:30
before throwing in the towel.
It suddenly hit me that it was cold. SO cold. So gosh-damn
bloody COLD! Colder weather than the property manager was prepared for, the
kind of cold that made me, the girl who hates sleeping in bulky clothing, go to
bed wearing leggings, two pairs of socks, a sports bra, a thermal top, and my
big USC sweatshirt with the hood pulled so tight over my face that I looked
like Kenny from South Park. I covered even my head with the blankets when I realized
I could see my breath if I left my face exposed. When the girl I was sharing a
bed with finally came to bed at 3am once she was all partied out, I thanked
sweet baby Jesus for the gift of body heat. If she’d asked me to cuddle, I
probably would have. Warmth is warmth, yo. The next day, we all roused slowly but surely (I of course was up at 5:45 am reading on my Kindle) and enjoyed a delicious, made-from-scratch breakfast before parting ways. My friends were kind enough to get me back stateside by noon so that I could book it to the airport to hop a jet to Vegas where my girl Karina and I saw the second to last show of our boo Justin Timberlake’s 20/20 Experience Tour. Oooh child, that man can sang! I danced sexy in my seat to that little but of “Don’t Hold the Wall,” swayed in an emo haze at the outro to Love Stoned, screamed out “Yeeeeesssss!” to “My Love” (I STILL love that choreography) and closed my eyes and vibed to my beloved “Until the End of Time.” Karina and I sang our faces off the whole night and loved every minute off. JT can get it.
V + K
Go 'head, be gone with it.
I caught a flight at 7am the next morning back to San Diego, which means that when all was said and done, I was in Vegas for about 12 hours, the same amount of sleep I’d had in a span of four days. Exhaustion is an understatement, but I’d do it again tomorrow. The lesson here is not to take yourself too seriously. These friends of mine are spread across the continental US but come together at random just when I might need to lighten up. They break up my tendency to overthink things and slap me in the face with some fun. They force me to delight in and appreciate the awesomeness that comes with laughing out loud and not giving a smooth f#%k about how you look to the world as long as you’re enjoying yourself. They also build me up and remind me how loved and supported I am at every hour of the day, I am so thankful for each and every one of these crazies. They’re the shit.
Do more of what makes you happy in 2015. It’s sometimes
easier said than done, but MAN does it feel good when you pull it off.
Bookishly yours,
Vanessa
