Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Chapter 2: hey tommy lee jones, nice truck

We rose at the beautiful hour of about 11am, which was about 1pm for me, and while it may seem like a day could be wasted (maybe it was 9am- same diff), we definitely made the most of Day 2, without regard to time. Zach was headed to Universal Studios for the day, so it would just be the three amigas.

First stop was CVS because my camera's memory card was full. After one night of being there (plus other pictures I couldn't bring myself to delete), it was full. Great.

Then, we hit up the infamous $0.99 store native to the sunny shores of California where we purchased fake goldfish of two varieties, Lifewater, bears and icing for dunkaroos, more bread for PB&J sandwiches, and some other food items.


Next - and don't get bored yet, it's about to get exciting - we drove to the gas station in Burbank and on our way, TOMMY LEE JONES turned in front of us. In his old, beat-up truck. I was stuttering out "Look- that face - famous - he's - look, look- in front-" and then, since I couldn't think of his name, Melissa spit it out for me "That's Tommy Lee Jones!!!"

After a couple minutes of screaming and laughing and congratulating ourselves for our celebrity sighting in Burbank, no less, we pulled into the gas station and pulled out our phones. Okay, I'm gonna script this for your visual comprehension and entertainment.


Me: I'm gonna call my grandmother.
Melissa: I'm gonna call my mom.
Courtney: I'm texting my mom.

(all whip out phones, Melissa and I begin to dial)
(brief silence as dial tone rings)

Melissa: Hey mom!
Me: Grandmother-
Melissa and Me: Guess what?
(pause)
Melissa and Me: We just saw Tommy Lee Jones!!

Melissa's mom asked if there was an echo on her phone, my grandmother was excited, but it was a bad time for her to talk, so we ended our calls and cracked up because we literally said pretty much the same thing at the same time.


Then Melissa pumped gas and we cheered for a little longer and headed to Yogurtland for lunch.


If you have never tasted frozen yogurt, I first pity you and then I reprimand you. You who have computer access to view this post certainly have enough control over your own life to scout out your local frozen yogurt joint and indulge yourself. So do it. And finish reading this later, because you are wasting precious time. Your taste buds are bound to grow bitter. (pun definitely intended)



As we carried our cups of frozen yogurt to the car, we knew great things awaited us. We were going to the cliffs and then we were going to the beach. I hadn't been to a beach in who knows how long. Swimsuits tucked beneath t-shirts and shorts and chuck taylors on foot, the three of us set off on our adventure, with Melissa's trusty GPS to guide and misguide us.

We arrived at the beautiful "park" around 3pm, though I perhaps invented that time to give the story more significant detail. Surfboards atop the car, we parked her in trusty view of all, and stepped out of the car into the beautiful sunshine and glorious....wind. It was pretty breezy, which meant hoodies were a must. Eventually, though, through our tree-climbing shenanigans and cliff hiking, we shed articles of clothing, such as the cumbersome hoodie.

The best way to sum up this experience would be to show you.




After our climbing and hiking and meeting a drunk guy from Honduras under the dock and talking to him for a while, we headed back to the car. The surf boards were still there and time was expiring. The beach was not going to happen, at least not like we planned.


We had an appointment with destiny in Mission Viejo, which was about an hour away. We were meeting Courtney's family friends and eating dinner with them. After making a pit stop at McDonald's to change into real clothes and discard the bathing suits we didn't really use, we arrived at the house of Ed, Roxanne, and Irina. After some delightful conversation and learning more about California, Roxanne must have heard our stomachs growling.

And then...the two words that I loved most.

"Fish tacos."

I suppose surrounding those words was something like, "Hey Irina, why don't you take them to get fish tacos at Rubio's? My treat."

Melissa and I were smiling ear to ear, as was Courtney, because she did not have the privilege of sharing in our experience the night before. We decided we would grab some tacos then drive to Laguna Beach, since we were so close.

Three fish tacos and a smile later, we were back in the car on the way to Laguna Beach.

Irina gave us this delicious gum after our wonderful meal, and I discovered I could blow some great bubbles. I told Melissa and she decided to try. What happened next was entirely spontaneous and ridiculous, but it happened, and must be noted. Every time we blew a bubble, we counted. So it turned into a competition, and by the time we hit Laguna Beach, I had blown 100 bubbles and Melissa had blown 101. She won. Our jaws were sore and the gum had lost its flavor, but it was an incredibly spectacular little event.

When we got to the beach, it was pitch dark (as it had been when we left for Rubio's), and the beach was pretty much deserted. So we walked and goofed off and played on the lifeguard deck and walked through the restaurants and messed with locals.

Then we drove Irina home, stopped at McDonald's for some caffeine, and got back to Melissa's apartment sometime around midnight. Aka 2 a.m. in my Nashville head. Sooo tired. But such a remarkable day!

We were out like a light in no time. Fish tacos swimming in our stomachs satisfactorily once again.

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