Puerto Vallarta was fun, but I'm back!

I recently completed a week of All-Inclusive-Vacation at Puerto Vallarta University. This was my first time going the all-inclusive route. All-inclusive translates to a week of binging without the purging and waking up slightly hung over with a subtle Pepto Bismol after taste and a black tongue. Word to the wise, Pepto, or as I call it, the vacation vitamin, will in fact turn your tongue black if taken prior to bed in a drunken stooper. The trick never let yourself completely sober up and which adds to the excitement.

Many interesting things happened on this trip. I learned that lime and Chili goes apparently with everything, Paulina Rubio announced her divorce according to Yahoo Mexico, and I am a huge klutz. I tripped on the uneven pavement that is Puerto Vallarta at least 400 times. Which ended poorly. I learned the art of riding Mexican busses. The lesson was to hold on tight cause the bus shakes so much, you feel like your having a seizure. On one of the six lovely evenings, while moderately sober, I ran in the direction of the bus to catch up with my boyfriend who was getting ready to get on it. Another thing, Mexican busses don’t seem to wait for anything. You may be half way on the bus and it will start going full speed ahead. As I was running to the said bus, I tripped on the step in the pavement and slid directly into the cement in front of me. Watching this show must have been like getting to the bottom of a tub of ice cream sad and tragic. I ended up scraping the skin off of my left elbow, which sucked, but I got over it with a few Pine Coladas. Mexican pharmacies also do not sell big Band-Aids.

Since I am the classic pasty Jew, it was a week of searching for the highest SPF and shade. While I tried to tan, by the end of the week, my body ended up looking like a Neapolitan ice cream. Parts went from white, to pink and pinker. My boyfriend of course didn’t use sunscreen much and soaked the rays and turned to an even golden caramel, which caused more arguments. If there wasn’t free booze at every turn, I would have been more upset.

We did lots of tourist trap stuff. Snorkeling near a little island called Yelapa was amazing. I went without telling my boyfriend of my awkward fear of sea creatures. It was great. I get the midget flippers on (my feet are really small), goggles, snorkel and get into the beautiful water. I swim about 40 feet away from the boat and enjoy the tranquil sound of the water, the sun on my face and made eye contact with my beautiful boyfriend a few feet away as we each enjoyed our own version of bliss. I then look down into the water and see all the fucking nasty ass creatures, I mean beautiful fish swimming around us. At the moment that I did this I choked on the salty water and let out what could only be called a lady-boy scream. Everyone on the boat and in the water turned to see if I was okay. I pretended to be okay while still coughing up salt water and slowly swimming okay. It was like when walking somewhere and tripping on your own feet and pretending no one noticed.

Then a little boy, no older than 12, in the water asked me “It’s okay, are you 20 yet?”

I replied, “almost 30…”

The kid, “I am soooo sorry.”

This kid looked like the type that played with matches. On the hour boat ride out there, he applied sunscreen at least 5 times and sat there squinting with old man face the whole time. Upon hearing the question, I assumed that it meant my eye cream was actually working. We went on to kayak, which was less interesting.

We then ended up on a tour of the island of Yelp itself. We walked up to a hill there, to this beautiful waterfall. Right when we got there to see the beauty in front of us, this little black dog hopped from the top of the hill where the water fall started to his death in the water. It was odd. While it didn’t stop me from hoping in the water, it was very sad.

From eating on the beach to shopping for cheap European chocolates at my favorite corner store “Oxxo,” it was a great trip all around. The rest of the week included a few tours, much drinking and feeling bloated. Essentially it was the American dream.