Que no termine nunca

Although this post comes a little (okay, months) after the actual happenings, I still find it worth posting. I've had a draft up here for ages, but got entirely too caught up enjoying myself and getting back into a new school year. But here's my mini-Michigan road trip with Nate from the summer. It was the one and only true road trip I've ever taken, and I'm afraid that it was so terribly entertaining, that I'll never top it. But. High hopes. We first stopped just for dinner in Grand Rapids, MI and took a little walk around the town. Who knew such a lovely little gem awaited us on our walk. An ode-to-cacti on this overhang. In every color and size pot you can imagine. Luckily, they don't need to be watered, because I'm not sure how anyone would get to them safely...

We dined in a restaurant where I could (literally) not get between the tables and had to wait 5 minutes for people to get out of my way so that I could climb back to my table. It was delicious. We ordered way too much food and ate nearly all of it before promptly jumping back into the car to continue on.

Our first full day was spent in Holland. Named so, presumably, for it's Dutch-like atmosphere. The windmill was the cutest, but in order to go up it, you had to get a tour with some fairly strange tweens posing as the opposite gender and wearing wooden clogs. So. We opted out. We did, however, watch them dance around. I enjoyed their performance thoroughly, though I did say more than one time "Is this real life?" It included slow-motion spins, dips, and clog clapping that I think Nate and I could have managed if we had a few minutes practice.

Nate just had to try them on. Don't be fooled by his calf muscles. He is not, in fact, a Dutch dancer, though the shoes fit him nicely.

                                           

The carousel was labeled "CHILDREN ONLY", and we would have attempted it, had the animals not looked so breakable. Instead, we played on the playgroud and snuck into the children's garden....and thank God we did! The children had not been taking good care of their herbs, and so Nate took it upon himself to finish the job.

On the way to some bigger sand dunes, we stopped to talk a walk on some smaller ones. I, motivated by sand too hot to touch, raced to the top, leaving Nate behind.

We got to the sand dunes at dinner time, but thought it'd be worth a try to score ourselves a buggy. Unplanned, but so necessary. After seeing car after buggy after truck after four wheeler drive by with their little sand dune flag, we were officially jealous. Just in time, and with a little sweet talking we managed ourselves the only buggy left. This little babe. "The one with no reverse".  I was nervous.  Nate was thrilled.

We managed much better than I had thought, though we got stuck a couple of times, Nate always got us out. The view was incredible and I couldn't stop laughing. We left with sand in our eyes, ears, hair, shoes, and shirts. We filled the entire car with sand. We had bumps and bruises to show for it. We (and by we I mean I) accidentally drove straight through a huge puddle splashing us.

Test hill. A monster-sized hill in the sand dunes where everyone sits until the muster the courage to take a try at getting up it. We were told "Don't take that buggy on test hill. You will NOT make it". I was thankful for that, to be honest.

Exhausted, and ready for a meal and a bed, we hopped in the car to go to Ludington, where we were sure we'd find a motel for the night. We first stopped to see the pier and the sunset. I'm so glad we did, because it is all we ended up seeing of Ludington. Every single motel, hotel, and B&B were full. So it's 10:00 at night, we're covered in sand, and without a place to sleep. We finally drove 25 minutes back out of our way to a motel where they left a bonfire burning in front of our door. It was one of my very favorite stops. A bottle of sangria each and 2 for 1 cinnamon donuts from the gas station make everything alright again.

 Oh, and this guy does, too.

 Next day we had hours to kill in the car, and not a plan in mind. Oh, a boat? A huge boat? With tours? Yes, let's. We waited in the sketchiest of cabins for our "scheduled tour" with a family of 3.
Lucky we signed up just 10 minutes before it started. Got the last spot. We learned lots about boats. Well. Nate learned lots about boats. I looked at all of the cool old things like the rotary phones and living quarters and I pictured being with Leo DiCaprio and Rose Winslet on the Titanic.

Our most adorable tour guide insisted we take a picture here. He was wonderfully enthused about every nook and cranny on the entire boat, which made even his least exciting babble bearable.

Only a few minutes back into the trip after our ship tour, we saw a sign that said "Plane Rides $25". The conversation went something like this:
Me: "Plane Rides, $25!"
Nate: "$25?"
Me: "Is that real?"

And the car was already turned around and pulling into the lot to find out. We hesitated at the entrance to the tiniest of airports because it seemed that no one was inside. When we got in the building, we found a young girl wearing pink and polka dots from head to toe, complete with flip flops. We asked if there were any plane rides for the day and she said "Oh yea, that's me. Which one do you want? Okay let's go". From car to plane: 3 minutes. We were strapped in the baby plane behind the least conspicuous pilot I've ever seen without having a single second to process. I think it's best that way, or otherwise I might have run the other way.

The views were great. Our pilot showed us around her little city.

 "Did we just do that?" We did. And it was great.

More days, more dunes. This is the steepest we saw. People had climbed all the way to the bottom of this one and were attempting to crawl back up. Luckily, I'd read in the pamphlet that it takes on average 2-3 hours to climb back up, and so I was able to talk Nate out of it. Otherwise, it looked tempting.

Our last night was spent in Leelanau at the coolest motel I've seen. Set back in a little fishing town by the tiniest waterfall, we could hear the water running all night. We dressed way too nice for the restaurant we went to and could find little to no entertainment in the town, so we created our own. We foam-sword fought with a 5 year-old girl in the gift shop, whose parents were unaware that she was being beaten, badly, by much older opponents. We drank cherry wine (delicious) and enjoyed our last night.

So I just had to post about our road trip because it was one of those memories you're dying to keep. You know it'll fade, but you'd kill to remember every detail of it. It was that irretrievable kind of fun. The one you can't recreate no matter how hard you try.

But we'll keep trying. 

La mismísima página

So. I've found out I am a terrible person to try to surprise. My mom has taught me to be a conspiracy theorist and it apparently has carried over into my personal life. I'd decided I was about to be surprised with a concert for my oh-so-favorite redhead, and then made myself nervous that I wouldn't be able to hide my disappointment if I were wrong in my guess. 

Luckily, I'm never wrong. :) 

 

I felt like I was being mugged when we walked in the door and a crazy-eyed girl did a fairly rough search of my purse. This little Brit played (almost) all my favorites, but I critiqued his every move. Poor Ed.

This one's a winner due to his little shrug. He was saying "Would you stay now, and let me hold you?" To me. And actually, he was singing it. Possibly not just to me.

So, since I got exactly what I wanted the night before, I owed Nate back by tagging along to one of his favorite things. The auto show in Detroit. It was much more enjoyable than I could have imagined. I found a red sparkly car that is now on my Christmas list for next year. This. Is the truck Nate picked for me.

To kick off our gluttonous weekend, we went to the casino restaurant called "Brizoll-A", according to the very effeminate, very-offended-by-Nate's-pronunciation, young worker. Our IPad menus momentarily distracted us from our food eating goal. We played on them looking at pictures and wine-pairings until Nate's battery got low. Then I watched Nate eat 3 rolls and 3/4 of the raw tartar before his lobster mac & cheese and steak arrived. While he was gone to the bathroom, the waiter came to keep me company and steal his bread plate and even the butter so that he wouldn't make himself sick before dinner :).

 

Even after filling up on carbs and raw meat, he was THIS happy to see his meat and sauce trio. The food was great, our waiter was better, and the sauce trio was awful. Seriously awful. I tried all of them, and then my own, and only tried it a second time to be really sure that it tasted like floral scented hand soap. It did. We had enough leftovers that Nate had to pull out some of his Tetris skills to pack this and 5 desserts into the hotel mini fridge for later enjoyment. 

Some of the weirdest things I've ever seen all on one street called Heidelberg. I enjoyed the polka dot house with a portrait of MLK Jr hanging on the porch ceiling. I did not enjoy the dirty stuffed animals hanging by their ears from the nearby tree. I did enjoy the old fashioned rotary phones and the Little Shop of Horrors-esque giant metal plant.

This is the house I picked for Nate.

 

Eating ourselves sick round two. Roast in downtown Detroit was the best food I can remember having in this lifetime. Well, the steak. I have had better fries, but they only just inch ahead...and the sweetbreads...were not sweet. They were creepy. I regret my clothing choice, but that just means I'll have to return. Next time I'll wear something solid. And fancy. But I think I'll order the same steak, and bring the same boy.   

Empezar de nuevo

 I went back and forth about whether or not to write a blog for my most recent trips. The reason? I have very little proof that they actually took place. The picture below serves as the sole photo proving I made it to Boston. It'll have to suffice. It also happens to hi-light who I made the trek with.

 

The idea started a few months ago when I met my newest favorite Czech love, Monika...better known and loved as Kiki. We met in an airport in Austin, TX and the rest is history. (Why didn't I blog about my Texas wedding trip!? To come.) So Kiki and I hadn't had enough of each other quite yet, and she insisted I come to Boston for New Years. I proposed the idea to Nate: mostly because I wanted him to join, but also, selfishly, so that I would have a date in a suit who could make me look good. (It worked). Anyways, we found little Monika and had a lovely reunion in her apartment filled with pairs upon pairs of men's athletic shoes that she insists are hers and a 2 month old pumpkin that hadn't even begun to rot.

  

In between hunting down friends, we spent every waking moment in Quincy Market...walking and rewalking the same strip until we finally settled on something particularly delicious that left us feeling full but slightly unsatisfied because there was Oh so much more to be eaten. A return will be necessary. And I need a recipe for buffalo mac and cheese.

 

Giant bagel morning at Quincy. If you go early enough you can snag almost any spot you want on the upper level overlooking all the other greedily-hungry tourists. Makes you feel so much less alone, but no less fat.

The bridesmaid's reunion! We owed it to (middle) Monica for not being even remotely useful during the November wedding. We looked up to her as the perfect little MOH and literally let her do ev.ery.thing. Luckily, no responsibilities on New Years lead to an almost repeat of the bachelorette party (except less rugby boys and no wipe outs). What I've learned being around these two: you can never have enough Monic(k)as. 

Somehow, we found more Mercy girls in Boston than I think I've seen since high school graduation. Some lovely girls, for sure. I can't say I got to see them all as much as I had planned, but I tried to stick close the the one in the gold dress. I wish I had pictures of our dinner the night before with the cotton candy and churros dessert! I also wish I had a picture of her "we're closed" face that Emmy tossed us when we tried to sneak into her work just 5 minutes after they had closed. Alas. This is our only friend proof. She and my Monic(k)as would, however, be enough reason to move to lovely Boston. Find me some Spanish babies to teach!

See? I was there. With this boy. I even have a New Year's horn, and he has an equally-as-flashy necklace. It was my favorite New Year's yet, though the one thing I really wanted was refused to me. Over and over again. Ke$ha: Die Young. I think I requested it over 10 times, leaning over the DJ's little table, climbing on the chair next to him, getting tugged on by security. All for Ke$ha. No dice. I'm honestly not sure how I could have been any bossier. We will find out next year.

(Also, HIMYM fans. The coat check girl on New Year's looked eerily like the coat check girl in the club episode when Ted tries on all of the coats. I should have asked her.)

Mi casa o la tuya?

Staying up until 4 am the night before a 6 am flight will inevitably lead to the following crash. It made for an entertaining car ride and flight, an interesting run-in with an old high school teacher and purses well-stocked with 5 hour energies. But first, a nap and some recovery time in the big city. 

The sissys, mom and Wendy took a girls trip to the city with the primary purpose of bringing home at least one Newsie for every Sanna. Newsies on Broadway! The rest was just trivial fun, really. In bathrobes.

The best choice ever for breakfast. When the sign said "Singing Wait Staff", they really meant it. Mickie's boyfriend-waiter is behind her and he later professed his love to her in song form.

It looked way more like a nightclub than a diner, except for the fact that on every TV they were playing the Little Mermaid.

 

Sissys getting creeped on. 

In order to pre-game for the Newsies, we watched video interviews with the cast members and picked out which ones we would attempt to bring home. We scored them on various categories including looks, voice, looks again, and if they were single or not.

 

The show was unreal kinds of greatness. Brought me back to the days when we would sit in the living room rewinding our favorite parts, handwriting all of the lyrics so we could memorize them. Christian Bale wearing suspenders and singing on the fire escape (sigh). Megan sat behind the biggest giant in the history of giants and therefore needed a child booster seat, but it was well worth it to not miss the musical skills of beautiful and (mostly) straight young men.

20 photo attempts to get the sign. No luck still. After the show, my llama (mom) tried to convince us to go out to dessert and get away from the crowded street outside the theater. I, however, having downed a 5 hour energy and just witnessed my childhood dream come to life on stage, was not about to set foot off that curb. I insisted on waiting outside the stage door to meet the newsies. I then pushed a few small children to get to the front of the gate.

Beautiful newsie #1. I attempted to get this one to come out with us, seeing as how he only had a small part, he surely wasn't too famous to turn down my tempting offer. And yet he did. I think I even said please! It didn't help that I didn't know his name. Or his character. Or what he did in the show.

Beautiful newsie #2, and also most talented. pirouettes atop newspapers? Phenomenal. And I told him so.

My favorite newsie! I was shouting "Davey- you're my favorite!" and as Mickie later told me, I was  whipping innocent bystanders with my hair in the process. I told him I needed a nice picture of my favorite, and he gave me this lovely pose. It took two attempts, but here he is. I should possibly have learned his real name. Ben, maybe? A little more research may have helped me scoop this one up.

And. No substitute for Christian Bale, but here is our newest Jack Kelly. "MOM I NEED A PICTURE WITH JACK!" is what I remember shouting. I truly owe her for putting up with my waiting and screaming, but what I really owe her for is her mom-like-use of her iPhone. By that I mean it took her a solid 1.5 minutes and 6 photo attempts to get this shot, buying me plenty of time to stand next to and hold onto this lovely young boy. Who sadly scored low on the single category. And by that I mean he was engaged.

I would also like to take this time to apologize to my sisters Mickie and Megan who were also in love with the Newsies. Who I did not let get close enough to talk to the boys, take pictures of them, or touch them. In my selfish excitement, I totally forgot you would have loved to hug a newsie. Let's go back.

Post Newsies. Post 5 hour energy. The most hyper Leigh that there has ever been. Momma was ready to leave me out on the streets. She also loved the show- but was rather picky about the liberties they took in changing the music and details of the show. I would have agreed with her more had I not been so focused on how they looked.

Vivi and Leigh in front of the Newsies sign in Times Square...too hyper to go home.

 

Sleeping buddies.  

 

I love how busy Times Square is- I'm sure its the reason it's so exciting. But if for just one minute everyone would stop moving and talking, this would be the coolest place ever. Slow down the madness. 

Out on the streets Megan does her makeup. So so famous.

Bryant Park. Project Runway! Lovely Aunt Wendy. 

Took a picture of every single one of these I saw. Unnecessary? For sure.

Good find! My teal nails and leather bomber jacket make this already exciting find slightly more avant garde. Anyways. I like you. Remember that.

 

No trip would be complete without Wendy making friends with strangers. She fell in love with a very fashionable semi-deaf boy in his mid 20s at the clothing store who she asked if she could adopt. She then found this lovely gentleman who had an empty spot next to him on the bench that obviously needed to be filled, even if only for a minute. They look like old friends. She even snagged a kiss on the cheek and made him the happiest bench-sitter there ever was.