coherently chaotic.

My friend Mary wrote a blog about a trip we took to Mexico a few years ago and I giggled so hard that I decided I wanted to give my two cents about that very same trip. It’s funny how, after the years go by, people remember things differently. Here is a link to her post if you’re interested. It’s called Mexico hates me. She’s pretty darn funny.

Most of what she says about our trip really happened…but what exactly? Well, that’s for the two of us to know.

When we arrived at our incredible resort, our room wasn’t quite ready…so we grabbed our suits from our bags and headed to the pool. Mind you, we’d thought ahead and brought our own cups for the all-inclusive cervezas because the ones they give you are equivalent to that of a mouthwash cup.

When we settled in our loungers, we decided to speak in British accents – because we’re so damn good at it – and we did so very, very loudly as to make sure that all of the other holiday-goers could hear us. I remember it only taking us about three minutes before we realized that half of the United Kingdom was actually in Nuevo Vallarta on holiday and we looked like stupid Americans.

Brits: 1, Americans: 0.

I introduced little Mary to tequila that day, something I’m usually only friendly with in Mexico. There is just something about drinking tequila in Mexico that makes me feel culturally sound. It’s kind of like getting a Sapporo with my sushi. It’s just something I feel like I should do. If I were in Australia, I’d probably drink Foster’s (it’s Australian for beer)…or a Guinness in Ireland. Get it?

The only thing that I dislike more than tequila is undressed, HOT tequila. Tequila that’s been sitting in the sun for so long that it’s pretty much boiling. Eww. Eww. Eww. I’m not sure that Mary’s had tequila since that day…

Upon the recommendation of Mary’s co-worker, we made plans to go to this littleittybitty island called Yelapa. We set out on this “booze cruise” at the crack of dawn and quickly became the stars of the show. We did a conga line around the boat, and danced our faces off with the crew. They sang me happy birthday and I believe we did the cha-cha slide….not very well, I might add. Of course, to get your money, they video tape the entire thing and you can buy it when the day is over….I’ll save the rest of that story for the end….

So, by the time we made it to Yelapa, we were pretty darn boozed….we had made friends with a couple of people the night before and had made plans to meet them on the beach in Yelapa. Let me tell you, this littleittybittytiny island cannot be accessed by car, only by boat, and it’s not very close. To anything. It’s a legit island with third world country type living arrangements, a bar, some horses/donkeys, and a gigantic waterfall. That’s about it. But it is like heaven. Anyway, those friends we met, were actually there, tanning on the beach, waiting for us. I don’t really remember much more about that, except we went to have a drink with them, just before we got back on the boat….they were really nice though. I have no clue what their names were, or where they lived, but they were nice. I love vacation friends. They make me happy.

So, in Yelapa, after we got off of the boat, we decided that instead of drinking, or hiking to the waterfall, we wanted to rent a horse/donkey to take us there. Now, here is where they trick you. You pay something like $56 to go to this littleittybittytinyteensy island and for lunch, and all the alcohol you can drink, and you get to go snorkle…and they tell you that you can ride horses to see this incredible waterfall….what they DO NOT tell you, is that you have to pay an additional $24 to rent your horse – that is actually a 183 year old donkey whose penis looks like a withered piece of rope that someone found in 1848. I may throw up just thinking about that. They were so ewwwwww.

So…Us? Hike? Yeahright. We paid for our jackasses and tried our best to maneuver the reigns with one hand and our drinks with the other. We rode through this quaint little town and were stormed by the 38 kids that lived there. They were all holding the prettiest little flowers for us to take. I took one. I thought it was the sweetest little gesture. Until the little twerp started screaming ONE DOLLAR at me. Shiz. FINE! Here’s your ONE DOLLAR. It’s the equivalent of at least $32 here. I’m assuming.

I put the pretty flower in my hair and rode away, while the kiddos ran after us on the trail. We giggled at ourselves for not being able to steer our donkeys correctly and just kind of let them go where they wanted to. And alas, they brought us to the magnificent waterfall. It was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I couldn’t wait to jump in the water. As we got closer, I saw that same little shiz of a child that had bamboozled me for my ONE DOLLAR FLOWER earlier and guess what he was doing? Little monkey was flipping me off. Yes, an eight year old little boy was flipping me the bird. I don’t speak Spanish fluently, or sign language….but that one I know.

It was pretty funny…..but I was going to get the little alien back. He just didn’t know it yet!

We jumped in the water and wound up playing with the kids. We were throwing them across the pond and giggling the whole time. By the end of the day, I wanted to pack the little boy in my purse and take him back to civilization with me. I loved him…even though my jackass of a horse had more manners than he.

I’ll spare you the rest of the journey home….it involved mas cervezas y alcohol-o. We were still the stars of the show….and I’m certain there were some mothers that were trying to cover the eyes of their innocent children. Do you think I bought the dvd? You bet your arse I did. I couldn’t WAIT to get home to watch the shiz show. Mary and I swore that we would never show it to anyone….and we never have…and NEVER WILL.

When we got back to our resort….Little Mary was three sheets to the wind and decided that walking to our room was WAYToOMUCHWORK so she just decided to lie down on the sidewalk. The sweetest little old maid I’ve ever seen sprinted to Mary with a handful of towels and tried to guard Mary’s backside from being scorched. Mary couldn’t have cared less if she burned herself. I’m not even sure she knew who or where she was. We finally got her to the room though….she needed to sleep it off.

Not me though….I headed back down to the pool for some mas tequila.

I’m not sure if it was that night or the next but we decided that we wanted to go into Puerto Vallarta and explore. We made friends with some of the hotel workers…the Animation Staff, as they liked to call themselves…..There was Roberto…from Mexico City and some guy from the UK….I’ll call him Thomas…

We knew they were safe because after we got in the cab I, very sternly, asked them if they were going to “Natalie Holloway us”. They said no and that was good enough for us. I also sent my cousin in Dallas a text (that probably cost $47 to send) and told him that if he didn’t hear from me by the next day, I was kidnapped and killed in Mexico by a man named Roberto. Yes. I really thought that would be enough to solve the crime. Roberto in Mexico? Really Taylor? Use your brain. If I ever have children….they are not going ANYWHERE without me. Or a leash.

Ok, sorry, I got a little sidetracked.

We made plans with them to go to later that night….and one of their cab driver friends would drive us. There is something about cabs there….you can only go INTO Puerto Vallarta in a white cab…and INTO Nuevo Vallarta in a yellow cab. Well…..Let me tell you something. You better listen to them when they tell you that because the federales will be all up in your business if you try to take a white cab back to Nuevo Vallarta. Just ask Mary. We got back into the white cab (knowing that we weren’t supposed to, of course) to go home…..and BAM. Sirens. Shiz. Shiz. Shiz. We’re getting pulled over. Before the driver stops, he takes of all of his gorgeous gold jewelry and throws it at Mary, telling her to hide it. She is BAWLING HYSTERICALLY in the front seat, hugging her knees…telling this man that she does not want any part of his stolen jewelry nonsense. Roberto and I are in the backseat laughing at her and he’s trying to tell her to stop being such a stupid American. I’m giggling and taking photos of her so I will always remember the moment. She was mumbling something about her sweet son and how he was going to have to live with his father and yada yada yada. I was still giggling. She did NOT think I was funny.

I did. And still do.

Oh viva la Mexico.

I’m ready to go back…who wants to take me?

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On our third day in New York City, our incredible host decided to really show us a fabulous day. We were a little lazy getting up and around, but when we did, we decided to follow him to a highly recommended restaurant around the corner. Again, it’s October…this was in July, so I don’t really remember the name of the place. Bijan! Can you remind me???

I vaguely remember that we sat down around 5:00….and had missed brunch by 5 seconds. Oh well….I don’t remember what I got, but it was absolutely heavenly. Before we left the apartment, I made sure to take some vitamins and three tylenol. I think I had a headache….or was trying to prevent one…I remember looking at the girls and asking if they wanted some. Then I heard Nicole say, “ummmm…those are tylenol PM”. Sure enough. I realllllllly thought I could push through it….until I was eating my “brunch” and felt like my head was going to fall off of my shoulders. I decided to give myself a timeout and walked back to the apartment to sleep it off. We were planning to have a late, late dinner at a sushi place we had yet to pick….I knew I would die if I didn’t go to sleep. I’m not sure where the girls went after they ate, but the bed was calling my name….loudly.

After my nap….which was amazing….we were ushered out the door by our wonderful roommate, Bijan. When I say ushered, I mean it. He couldn’t believe that we were still getting ready at 11:00ish. We made it out the door and were led to our car. We’d missed out on sushi, so he took us to meet some of his friends at a place called Pop Burger in Greenwich Village. His friends were so unbelievably friendly and welcoming. We were treated to some delicious drinks and yummmmmmmy sliders, compliments of our new friend and host. I’m still wondering if we were just getting special treatment because he loved our southern charm or if that’s part of the package for all of his guests. I’m going to go with the former. Writing this is making me want to hop on a plane and go see him.

He’s really the greatest. So much fun, that guy.

This is where the shiz got realllll interesting. Aubri and Kelly decided to take it easy after dinner….and caught a cab back to the apartment. No way Nicole and I were going to pass this up. We said our goodbyes to the girls and hopped in the bright, shiny Mercedes that was waiting for us. Yes, I realize this is not really a relevant part of the story….but it was amazing and I want to tell the world.

We circled around the block a few times, trying to get to Juliet….where we finally arrived, and were greeted by the doorman raising the rope to let us walk in front of the line of people waiting to get in. We made our way to our table, where we were again greeted with some tasty toddies. We moved to the middle of the club, and Nicole and I decided to step outside for a quick second. I took Nicole’s hand to pull her through the 97,162 people in this place and then I was abruptly stopped by, quite possibly, the biggest black man I have ever seen in my life. He was quite obviously blocking us from walking through the velvet covered door. I smiled and tried to squeeze my way between his massive arms and the door frame. Nope. He wasn’t having it. I stepped back a bit and he moved to let someone pass by him from behind. Oh. Holy. Shiz. How. Did. I. Get. This. Life. I believe they call him U-S-H-E-R–R-A-Y-M-O-N-D. Yeah. Kid you not. I froze. What was happening? I was so close to him I could’ve kissed him. And really could have if I was about a 3 feet shorter…..He may be the smallest person I’ve ever seen. Seriously 2 feet tall. Not really, but I always pictured him to be super duper tall. After he walked away, we went outside to catch our breath. We couldn’t believe the girls missed this. Holy cow.

We’d been outside for a few minutes when we got a text from Bijan telling us that we’d moved tables again and that we probably wanted to go inside. When we got in, we were dumbfounded to say the least. We walked up to our new table to meet Bijan. Directly in front of me, on the table was a huge bucket of beer….I looked at Bijan as if to ask him if it was ok if we took a couple. He asked the man standing 2 feet from us. Let me tell you how freaking cool it is when LEONARDO DICAPRIO gives you a beer. Yes. Leo. Titanic Leo. Yes. My heart will go on.

As if that wasn’t enough, after Leo left, we moved to the inside of the booth, only to realize that we were sitting right next to Robin Thicke. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. He was so so friendly….I think he’s my favorite. And his hair is just as big in person as it is in pictures. Like father, like son.

We danced our faces off and drank the rest of Leo’s beers….and then we realized that not only were we with Robin, but Usher had joined us. The little guy had to stand on the booth because he’s so tiny. He did call me baby though….as in “no baby, I can’t take any pictures.”…Still fun though. I don’t care if he said no.

We decided to leave Bijan to his friends…he’d been so nice to us…and we headed back to Kyle Albert’s bar, Off the Rails. Oh my. Oh my. I don’t know what it is about us in New York but we always seem to take over any bar we step foot into.

Case in point:

Oh New York. I love you so.

Read Part 1 or Part 2 here….

Stay tuned for Part 4.

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Considering that we went to sleep after the sun rose on Saturday…we were in no hurry to get out of bed. Now, by New York standards, the apartment we were renting was pretty darn big….at least big enough for about 9 people. Not saying we were all super comfy, but who cares? We’re in New York. I’d sleep in a suitcase. After we finally got everyone out of the apartment, we got ready for Kelly and Aubri’s first Chinatown experience. I think it was about 1:00 or so by the time we actually made it anywhere.

This day is a little fuzzy….

We went to brunch at a place where I cannot remember the name but it turned out to be oh-so-good. We may have been in Hell’s Kitchen somewhere…but who knows.

Nicole and I wanted to find our favorite clothing store that we think hung the moon. We finally found it and I got some of my favorite dresses of all time. This was the day I had been most looking forward to because I was going to get to see my dear friend Bea, who lives halfway around the world. She just happened to be in New York at the same time and was going to be in the city with her honey.

I rushed to the apartment as fast as my little feet could carry me and changed clothes…I then raaaaaaaaan…in 5 inch heels, mind you…..to Times Square….stopping only to buy some $5 sunglasses on the way. (I couldn’t find mine…or I left them at the apartment. I didn’t have them, regardless.)

I ran and ran like Forrest Gump on his way to see his Jenny. There were probably only about 5,394,629 people that were trying to enjoy Times Square at that very moment. No big deal though, I was about to see my Bea and I would’ve walked across the ocean to do it.

I finally made it to where she was….BUT…I was across the street. Damn. I thought I knew where I was going. I started SCREAMING her name. It did not sound like me….it sounded like someone was standing over me yelling her name. I guess I was a tad bit excited. We held hands walking through New York, giggling and talking 94 mph trying to catch up. We headed to dinner….oh my gosh such a good dinner….I’ll have to ask Bea what the name of the place was….because it’s October…and this was in July. I’ve slept since then. Nonetheless, it was FABULOUS. I so enjoyed getting to know Bea’s boyfriend, David, and his lovely, LOVELY children. My favorite part of dinner was when Julia looked at me and said, with all of the seriousness she had in her little body, “Taylor….are you a Playboy model too?!?” No, sweet, sweet Julia, I am not. Thank you, but I am not. She stole my heart at that very instant. I wish I could write exactly how she said it, like she’d thought it out since she met me. Then I got to explain to her that I work for a nonprofit organization in Oklahoma City. Not exactly an easy feat, but I managed. I would have much rather just been able to say, “Yes, actually I am. I am a Playboy model.” hehe Sweet Julia.

After dinner, we walked to Madison Square Garden to put the girls and David’s mom on a train back to Long Island. We hung out with Spongebob on the way, and said our goodbyes to the girls. Then we hopped on a train and headed to Greenwich Village. Hotel Gansevoort. Oh my. We sat on the rooftop, giggling and telling stories. David aka Mr. Funny Stuff Magician thoroughly enjoyed playing some tricks on Taylor. I’m still not entirely sure how he read my mind…..

I’d told the girls I would meet them at Hogs and Heifers when I was finished with Bea and they walked me there. Not really their scene, so they chose not to come in. We hugged about 7 times and said goodbye. Makes me sad thinking about it.

Off to Long Island they went and I was off to meet Kate…and her whiskey.

Oh. My. What. Is. My. Deal.

You may remember Kate from my last trip. I’d sent her a text letting her know that we were coming back and I promised we’d drop in. Well….Kate bought me a shot of whiskey and a beer and there I was, all by my lonesome at the bar. The girls were nowhere to be found. I charged my phone, ran outside…grabbed a cab and headed to our new favorite establishment. Off the Rails. Oh Kyle Albert. Read this so you can get yourself caught up on the characters in this story. You’ll need the references.

I’ll talk to a brick wall if it makes someone around me laugh…and this guy was no different. I think I gave him my “number” and told him that I really wanted an American Flag just like his…and he said he’d call the next day and bring me one. Thanks buddy. What I really want is to take a funny picture with you that I can put on my blog.

I mean that in the nicest way possible. He looks really sweet in the picture. Stained shirt and all. BUT, he was kind of a creeper. At least he was patriotic.

I’m a little unclear what happened next….but I know that Nicole and I have a picture with Ireland…..again, read this if you don’t know who Ireland is…we ate some papaya dogs around 4:00 in the am….it was below our building and he made sure we got home safely. I heart him. Let me clarify…I remember being at the hotdog place WITH Ireland…I just don’t exactly remember how we got there. Probably because I was still so excited that I was in NYC, I was just overwhelmed. Ireland, if you’re reading this, will you please refresh my memory? Miss your face!

Stay tuned for Part 3….it’s pretty much freaking incredible.

Did you read Part 1 yet? If not….click HERE.

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I’m kind of on a roll now….

I know. I know. I know. It’s been over a month since I’ve blogged. I’ve been busy. But this one will be a doozy…and I promise will make up for it!

At the end of July, I returned to my favorite place on earth. New York City. I fall in love with the place more each time I go. This time was no different. There was no Bon Jovi, there was no drama, there was nothing but genuinely fun times had by all.

It all started on Friday night. I was meeting the girls at an apartment that we rented for the week. After some delayed flights, some pissed off Texans in Baltimore and 18 airplanes circling the runway at LaGuardia, my flight landed. The first order of business was to call Nicole to make sure they had made it in from Texas, by way of Baltimore. They had. They were already in the apartment, waiting for me…but there was a catch.

Oh GREAT!! I just knew something was going to go wrong. I should have listened to my mother. Either we were staying in Spanish Harlem or we had no place to stay at all. My heart sank.

Complete opposite. The guy we rented the apartment from lives there. So wait. You’re telling me that I’m going to be staying with a complete stranger while he is in the next room? You’re flipping crazy. Whatever. Not a whole lot I could do about it.

He may be one of the most genuinely nicest people I have EVER met in my entire life. I will never, ever, EVER stay anywhere else when I go to NYC. Not only did he supply us with candy, he cleaned up after four of the most ridiculously messy girls in the universe. He gave us 5 star service….I’m surprised there were not mints on the pillows. It was a doorman building…and I’m sure they cried after we left. They may have been tears of joy but they were such good sports with us. Ahhh…Franklin. I wish I’d gotten a picture with Franklin.

Our first order of business was to walk to the Mean Fiddler. Our favorite NYC establishment. Well, at least it WAS until this trip…but I’ll get to that in a second. We got to see Shane…and Patrick Swayze. I don’t really know Patrick’s last name but I have had his number in my phone since our last trip, and it says Patrick Swayze….and I’m not going to change it. Anywho. He knew we were in town, and it was so good to hug his neck! He is my on-call bodyguard whenever I’m in the city. I just adore him.

Shane way way way overserved us…never one to disappoint. We got our pizza that we’d been craving since March, and introduced Aubri and Kelly to it. I’m not sure they were as impressed as we were…but oh my goodness, that BBQ chicken pizza is like heaven in your mouth. Serious. I seriously almost cried, and got in a fist fight with a group of guys from Philly….because one of them took the last piece of the pizza. They told me they wouldn’t make another one since it was after 4am. I threw my best temper tantrum and stormed outside. They then all started laughing at me as they pulled a brand spankin’ new one out of the oven and waved me inside. They successfully tricked little old me. I didn’t laugh. I went to the counter, got my slice and a sprite. And outside I headed. Glaring at the Pennsylvanians all the way.

Outside, I noticed some guys that had been hanging out with us at the Fiddler…..and one of those little boys came up to me, asked for a bite…I gave him one, and then he not only spilled most of my Sprite, he then drank the rest of it. We shared the rest of the pizza.

Then, we decided to have an impromptu hot tub party at the apartment. Let me preface this with, these boys are Irish. Not just of Irish decent. FROM IRELAND. On holiday. And they are CRAZY.

I’m not going to be able to do this story justice, so I’m going to sum it all up for you. They didn’t have trunks, obviously…so Nicole gave them some of her cute shorts, pink and teal zebra….very short. The others I guess were going to go in their jeans. Guess what people? The hottub was closed. So we had our hottub party on the streets of NYC, in our bikinis. Kid you not.

It’s a strange feeling (not one that I really ever want to have again) when the sun starts to rise, and you are standing on 42nd Avenue in a bikini, next to Irishmen wearing very short, colored zebra shorts and you realize that the people that are walking past you are starting their days, are not on vacation, and were not at the bar until 5 am.

Whew. This is going to be a long one. That was only the first night.

Check out Part 2 HERE.

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So the truth is, I feel better when I write. I know this about myself…but I do not know why I can go so long without blogging. I guess I just get out of the routine.

I started writing a post about my most recent trip to New York, but I got overwhelmed…and I only got through the first night. I may just have to do a separate post for each day. Yep…that’s what I’m going to do. I apologize in advance that I’m about to totally overload your email inbox if you’re a subscriber – but then again, I guess that’s why you subscribed, right? I’m going to try to finish it and make sure that it’s even better than the last New York post. It was such an amazing vacation, I just have to do it justice.

I’ve done some pretty fun things since you’ve last heard from me…and I intend to tell you all about them…in due time. I also wrote a huge post about a trip I took to Mexico a few years ago…and it was pretty intense…and then my computer crashed and I lost it all. I almost cried I was so mad. Maybe that’s when I gave up?

I think that a certain event this spring caused me to clam up and not want to write, for fear that I may become too negative and that is not something that I wanted. Or maybe I’m just using that as an excuse. Either way, I’m passed it now and I’m ready to get the ball rolling again…

…Stay tuned….
xxoo

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Last night, I was surprised by a very welcomed compliment.

A guy I went to high school with, Lance, told me immediately after seeing me, how much he loved my blog.

I think it is so fun to hear that people read this thing. I’ve actually had more men talk to me about it – which I did not expect – but I love it just the same.

Because of Lance’s outpouring of support, I promised that I would post this picture.

I also told him that I would call him Lance Mason-Morton, because that’s what he was in high school. He’s since dropped the “Mason” but I refuse to.

So, here’s to you Lance. Thanks for reading!!

That’s Lance on the right, and Mike Dean on the left….but Mike acted like he’d never heard of my blog. I don’t believe him.

XXOO

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