when things get rough, drink a mimosa...

»the grammar and spelling of this might be incorrect, as this keyboard is missing half the keys and works differently...just a warning.

I arrived in Cincinnati, and was thoroughly searched by the security people./to the point that i had air blown on me and had to repack my bag...so glad i spent 3 hours ever so carefuly packing it the night before. I ended up getting on the 3rd flight out...yay standby. Luckily, i have a certain talent for sleeping on the floor in public places, so i was able to make the most of my time there. Once in Atlanta, my friend kacie and I had perfect timing and basically as I walked out of the terminal, she was waiting for me. It was good to catch up, and even better that I basically had door to door service as her roommate works at the airport and took me there in the morning on her way to work. Security this time was less scruntinous personally, but the line was about an hour long. Once I got to the gate, the ticket people looked at me with sad faces telling me i would be un able to make it on the flight *they thought. However, they informed me that I could catch a flight to Liberia, but since they had messed up the tickets of the 30 high school students in front of me, they didn't think I'd make the ticket change in time. At this point, I was running to the ticket counter, hoping that Liberia was actually in costa rica, because I had yet to find it on a map. After a little finegleing, I got my ticket reissued to liberia, and finally located it. I figured I'd just hop on a bus after I got there. So there I was, happy to be on the plane, delighted to be on my way to costa rica, and ever so pleased to be sitting in first class. The memory of the taste of the mimosa that they served me as I sat down, and the free 3 or 4 glasses of wine I got with my butternut squash ravioli at lunch helped me through the rest of my day. We arrived in Liberia and the airport reminded me of the airport in both Santa Barbara and the Cayman Islands `/outside, and very small. Infact, Liberia didn't really look much like a city, more like farmlands. I contemplated renting a car, but then decided that the 4 dollar bus fare to San Jose was unbeatable. The taxista took me to the station, and I waited an hour to buy my ticket. All the time realizing that I wasn't in Mexico any more and the whole class system of buses didn't apply here. There was only one class and it was of no movies and no air conditioning. Who would have thought I'd be longing for the days of my 3 rd class buses in mexico? I wait and wait, pay 100 colones to use the bathroom, and finally board the bus. Luckily, the seats were assigned, and I was sitting next to this girl I chatted with in line. She turned out to be my new best friend and very helpful. I thought the ride was 3 hours. Turns out it was 5. DId you know it's hot in Costa Rica? My first fear was when My new friend, we'll call her MF asked me if the guy gave me a ticket for my bag when he stowed it. I said no, she said " that 's ok, but just be careful no one steals it" I was pretty optimistic for the first part of the trip, MF and I were talking, but the bus kept making frequent stops when the driver would just get off and leave for 20 min at a time. We stopped half way, or more than half way, we only had 2 hours left for the 100 kilometros...*yes, that is roughly 30 miles an hour. Awesome. Anyway, we get on the bus, and then about 20 min later, we stop for 40 minutes on the side of the road. The people behind me were talking of a revolt and reporting the driver to the company. Oh i forgot to mention, not only did i have to carry my other bag on my lap the entire time, the aisle was loaded with people. A pparently they sell sitting seats and standing seats *even though standing seats is an oxy moron. Imagine standing the 5 hour ride. So, after the revolt talks, they all got on the bu s, and the men in the aisle beside me started telling jokes. They were pretty funny, MF and I were laughing, but some of the jokes were about gringos. Oh well. After jokes, they switched topics to discussions on Politics, the environment, religion, and the place of women in the society. It was actually pretty interesting, the 90 year old man next to me in a Billabong baseball hat seemed to enjoy it too. The other surprising thing about here is that it gets dark at 6 pm. Who knew. This is important, only because MF told me it's not safe to arrive at the bus station at night alone. THus, I decided to get off with her at the airport, and pay the extra money for the taxi from the airport instead of the bus station. M F also helped me buy a phone card and call home, even though no one an swered...MF and I argued a little with the cab driver, but we finally got a good price. SHe was a great help, she is 19 and studying tourism and wants to own her own tour company some day. She told me a lot about the a rea and how s he wants to go to france. She also had the best laugh, which made me happy after such a long day of travel. So I got in the taxi, and made it to Hotel Aranjuez. My friends h ad just stepped out, possibly a movie, so I may just go invite random strangers to dine with me because apparently it's not safe to walk the streets alone. clearly.

that mimosa i had 10 hours ago was really really good.