l went to the beach.

lt was awesome. Met new in-laws, welcomed young new life, met more family friends, and got to know them all better than l had the last time l'd seen them, or at least from the moment we met.

lt rained every day but two. Yesterday was one of them. It was our last day at the beach, and l was really pissed about that since l wanted to go out and dance with the young generation and have a New Year blowout, but my flight leaves tomorrow morning, and it wasn't possible.

Turns out dancing wouldn't be possible anyway. Yesterday being one of the sunny days, l went out, walked four miles around the beach, and forgot to apply a second layer of lotion to my legs. l am now swollen to twice my size, and one would wonder if l was pregnant by the looks of my ankles. My man suggested they might be second degree burns, and l'm thinking he may be right. l walk kind of like a duck so my legs don't rub together and chafe any more than necessary, and my ankles are so stiff and tight that they won't move properly, which means that even if l WAS still at the beach, there'd be nooooo dancin for the Ali, not a chance.

So we went out to a lovely french dinner. My mother dressed me up in her clothes, and l never thought l'd say this, but l looked smashing. l asked her if she was dressing me up for the fun of it, or if she didn't think what l brought would look good enough. She said a little of both. l was slightly offended, but l think she thought l was going to wear my bathing suit coverup, since she hadn't seen the outfit l packed. lt was cute and amusingly honest nonetheless, but as l said, l looked damn good, so hey, who gets to play such fun dressup with their moms at 31?? :)

So the family's all gone to bed, and l'm sitting here, about to finish this blog, as it's going to be New Year's in Costa Rica in about 8 minutes. l will walk out on my mom's patio, which overlooks the entire city of San Jose, finish my celebratory drink, have a cigarettte, watch the fireworks, count my blessings and reflect upon the year past and the one to come, smoke a joint, and go to bed, a pleasantly buzzed, extremely itchy, slightly injured but very contented lobster.
Happy New Year, yáll. (apparently costa rican style, since my mom's computer is possessed by some spanish program that wants to add accents to all of my shit)
May you find much love and new blessings.
Ali-cat