names...

fyi... jordan and i are notorious for getting ahead of ourselves. always. and regularly. i think it was the first weekend he came to visit and i was driving him to the airport... he said, this was pretty great right? right. we should probably just get married. yep.

......

when i was little i always experimented with writing my name with someone else's last name. ok, with whoever my handsome boy-crush at the moment was... his last name. sometimes a boy from science class and sometimes a celebrity... layla taylor-thomas (remember jtt?!). 

at any rate, a few years ago when i was in a relationship that made me think about our future i realized that i didn't want to change my name. if i got married, i wanted to remain layla guest. and to be honest, i didn't really like my boyfriend's last name. not a very good reason, but it sure did spawn a lot of thought on the whole issue. and thought, of course turns into conversation.

the number of men and women who had emotionally charged reactions to the idea of name change really surprised me. 

-no, i don't want to be labeled as a man's property.

-yes, it's the only way we will feel like a family.

-how about hyphenated last names?

-why doesn't the man change his name?

-yes, it's tradition.

and, of course, there are hundreds of blog posts dedicated to this subject... from hundreds of points of view. and that's the interesting part... point of view.

last night jordan and i were skyping and i asked him how he would feel if i changed my last name to his, allen. he said that would be fine. and when i asked him how he would feel if i didn't change my name he said that would be fine. and then he said something interesting... i would want our children to have my last name.

interesting.

when we talked further he mentioned the desire to carry on his family name. so, i told him i wanted to carry on my family name too, so maybe one child could be allen and one could be guest. he didn't so much love that idea... and well, i was stirring the pot a bit (on purpose, of course).

then i mentioned that i though about the idea of changing my middle name to guest and my last name to allen. he really didn't like that idea, stating that nicole, my middle name, was one that my parents gave me. that it was a first name and i could never get rid of it! which struck me. and, of course, i had to point out... nicole is a name i rarely associate with. i think i only use it when i answer those silly questions about finding your star trek name by adding the first two letters of your first name with the first four letters of your middle name, then multiply it by seven and add the second syllable of your third pet's name but only if that pet lived on the first street you lived on, or whatever. 

but, it's not a problem to just up and get rid of my last name altogether?!

so here's the thing. my parents gave me the name layla guest because they (probably big red more so than tonyguest) thought it would look good written in lights! nicole is more of an afterthought, because, well... i needed a middle name. and the thought of changing my middle name was more significant to dear jordan than changing my last name; the name that i say (yes, guest. like a house guest. or a guest room. no, i'm not asking you to guess my last name...) at least 14 times per day. 

point of view... ours are so different. all the time... but it makes for great conversation.

though, in the end, i think he got my point.

but, i still have no idea whether i will change my name someday. i guest i'll just keep you posted (see what i did there...?!)

image found here.

mexico, i love you...

crap. i love mexico. i mean, what's not to love? it's so hot even my knees sweat. so, plunge into the playa... that'll cool you right off. done. it's totally reasonable to wear a bathing suit as an undergarment at all times. no mascara needed, ever. i could easily exist here for quite a long time.

but, i really should learn spanish. it's embarrassing actually. i'm putting it on my list. take spanish.

our first evening here, when we still stunk of airplane, airport and sweaty customs lines behind the russian gymnastics team (??????) (who did not have the proper paperwork, 'cause they were having a helluva time getting into mexico), we ate at a small cantina called le petite paris. neither one of us could figure out why. there was nothing remotely parisian or french about the joint at all. we stumbled in because of an unannounced downpour.

a gentleman resembling napoleon bonaparte (in garb only) was sitting at an outside table. (maybe this was the french connection?) the drink menu had a photo of napoleon tucked away in the specials category. only, it was labeled as jack sparrow's specials. jack sparrow is not french. totally bizarre, but really, we just needed a beer and some chips.

today i watched a lighting storm over cozumel, the island that lies 10 kilometers east of playa del carmen. i sat in 83 degree sun, while i heard thunder and watched lightning in the distance. shit. get it now? i asked jordan if we could move here... he hasn't responded yet. but, he generally doesn't when i ask him things like can we move to mexico/vienna/geneva/london/anywherebuthere, etc...

i also intend to eat my weight in ceviche while i'm here... adiós amigos.

seriously. do not drink the water...

vacation is hard.

it's been a lot of sunning by the pools and the playa, walking around town to find coffee, fruit and sunscreen, trying on bathing suits and eating great dinners accompanied by copious amounts of margaritas or cervezas. yep. that pretty much sums it up.

hannah and i are asked on a daily basis if we are friends? that's code for lesbians in traditional catholic mexican culture... just in case that wasn't abundantly clear already. where are the boys? huh? two single ladies??? we tell them the boys are at home doing the laundry and this generally makes the waitstaff laugh their heads off, as they have, unknowingly, crept closer and closer to our table to hear the answer.

this is usually followed by shots of tequila, on the house. ooff.

yesterday, i made another new friend. cristobal. he's lovely, though he listens to crap club-house-dance-electronica-diskotecka music that makes my eyes cross. he does, however, make the most delightful juice-smoothie concoction i have ever had. orange/mango/guava/mint juice. throw it in the blender with some ice and voilà... wait, ummm... is that ice from filtered water...??? but, i can't bring myself to ask the question, as i will not be that kind of american in mexico. it is what it is... and we'll just have to wait and see...

good news friends. if it was tap water, i've got a digestion system made of steel. back to sunning by the pools.

¡olé!

mother/father...

today is big red and tony's wedding anniversary! nice job you two. i woke up nice and early to watch the sunrise just for the occasion...

mexico, mangos, microsleep and mario...

ohmygawd. i just ate the most delicious mango i have ever tasted in my entire life. and let's be clear, i love mangos something fierce.

i'm on vacation.

hannah and i are staying in a condo near the ocean in a town that is roughly 70 kilometers south of cancun on the yucatan peninsula. y'all, this shit is perfect.

we arrived last night and took a cab from the airport in cancun to our place in playa del carmen. our cab driver was falling asleep at the wheel. seriously.

we were driving awfully slow... and before i realized what was happening, i thought, shit... am i going to be on an episode of kidnapped abroad? (i know, i know, i'm sorry. but, i can't lie to you. the thought did cross my mind...) you see, señor taxista woud slow down at the strangest moments (like cars broken down on the side of the road and dimly lit dirt road turn offs), in addition to when he stayed awake long enough to carefully navigate our nine-passenger van over the erratically placed rumble strips, muy bueno, el capitán!

i caught a glimpse of his eyes in the rear-view mirror and realized that he was actually taking six-and-a-half second microsleeps! just long enough to lose traction on the gas pedal. great news! we would not be kidnapped... merely whiplashed or minorly concussed if his naps became more frequent... eh.

i also have a new friend. his name is mario. we met at the infiniti pool. he and nineteen of his closest friends are here from mexico city on a bachelor party weekend and invited me to come with him tomorrow on a boat to celebrate mexican independence day! (i politely declined.)

we discovered we both love soccer and he thinks that most things about my life are awesome! i think that's awesome. he also told me that layla is his favorite name in the whole world. and that he's loved every girl he's ever met named layla... well, layla and candace, that is. i laughed very hard and very loud.

i think it's time for a dip in the plunge pool before we head out to find some comida. ¡hasta luego. te amo.

oversleeping...

have you ever walked out of your apartment and down the stairs, with sleep still in your eyes, a ratty top knot on your head and no bra with intentions of a beautiful cup of coffee only to find a homeless man sleeping in your hallway? me too!

ok, but seriously. i live in a building with a secure door. you know, you've got to have key or have someone buzz you in. and i'll tell you, i've locked myself out twice! twice. ugh. i had to jury-rig (remind me to tell you the story of tonyguest telling me it's jury-rig and not jimmy-rig, which i have been saying for approximately 30 years. whoops) a ladder to climb up to my fire escape and break in through the window. not ideal.

at any rate, at 6:58 am, a rather stinky gentleman was 100% inside my securely locked building. it startled me. so, i woke him up and kindly asked him to move along, that this was a private building and he needed to find another bed.

oh, ya ya ya. aight. what time is it? did i oversleep?

did you oversleep?! well, yes! sir. you. did. in my secure building, you overslept on the first floor hallway stinking up the joint. have a great day.

i escorted him out the door, closed it behind me and made my way to peet's for a large coffee (where, btdubs, mac is no longer a morning barista! what?! i know. he moved to south city and the early morning commute is too much. it's awful, though i am coping. everett is taking good care of me... and impressed jordan up the wazoo when we walked in and everett had my coffee waiting for me when we got to the front of the line... oy, too many stories. i'll get organized soon-ish, though and we'll get back on track).

you guys! when i came back to my apartment at 7:07 am, the same stinky gentleman was in my building. again!!!!! can you believe it? this time he was in the hallway on the second floor. my floor. how. did. this. happen?!?!?!?!? i couldn't stand not knowing, so i asked him: how did you get in here?!?!? how did you get back into this building? who let you in? how did you get in here? (i probably shout-asked him, actually.)

sorry lady. have a great day. the door was open. sorry lady. i'm goin'i'm goin.

i mean, what? it is close to impossible to break into my building. both times i did it, i had to wait for one of my neighbors to come home, recognize me and then let me into the alley/trash area where i could scale the darn building to get in. and let me tell you... it took wayyyy longer than 9 minutes to be successful. oh. my. goddess.

there's been lots of gosspin' (that's ricky ricardo speak for gossiping, duh) since it happened. i wrote a kind but firmly worded letter to my neighbors who all responded in disbelief, except for one... hmmmmmmm.

apartment #4 said this has happened before.... that #6 is a whacko and doesn't even have a job. so that should tell you something...

i'll keep you posted.

i'm en route to mexcio. five days of playa fun. i'm planning on doing nothing but drink margaritas, sit by the water, write to you, read and do pilates and yoga with hannah, my cohort. adios. te amo. pictures from ffffound.com.

l is for the way...

it's labor day. there's a rule about white pants related to this day, but as it turns out i'm not super into the rules. you know? today, labor day meant that i only had to work a half day. mini days sure are great. although, when i woke up, my out of town guest was still here, and when i got home he was en route back to long beach... so here's the deal team: i'm in a long distance relationship.

yes.

on the same weekend that i had a brown ledge reunion (which is just plain old good ju-ju), i met this guy. he's in my life now. and here's the deal. we had to have a come-to-jesus talk about this blog. was i going to be the kind of blogger that never mentioned her significant other? hell no. so, maybe the kind that had some sort of code-name for him? eh, maybe. nah, y'all, his name is jordan. he's remarkable. and he lives in long beach. minor detail.

jake darling invited me to the park that weekend to sit around. i went thinking it would be just us. so i did not put on my cutest outfit. i had not brushed my hair in a day or three. i was a teensy bit hanged-over and i still had only half a voice. when i walked up and saw a pile of people, jake made fun of me for sounding like a river-rat. the first words of actual substance out of my mouth were fuck you. oh, hi. jordan is it? nice to meet you. pardon my everything.

turns out jordan didn't so much care. i am convinced he's quite delusional. he not only found me attractive, but actually mentioned to our mutual friends that he thought i was very cool. and that it was very cool to meet me. (he says cool a lot. i think it's cool).

i was fairly convinced that i'd never see him again, and wasn't super excited about that. but, darling jarrett got on the old facebook and told us to get it together already and be friends. being the free-thinking, independent-spirited adult i am, i followed his instructions diligently and friend requested this bearded new yorker.

long to short. facebook messages turned into emails, emails turned into phone calls. and phone calls have turned into a handful or so of dollars worth of round trip airplane tickets, a killer mixtape, a wedding in healdsburg (not ours), countless endless conversations (some easier than others), a lot of laughing until our bellies hurt, a few new friends, some tears, a meeting with tony guest and big red and a whole lot of love. that's right. l.o.v.e.

the parallels in our lives are uncanny. we've gotten to a point that when our stories don't have some kind of bizarre parallel with some far-off memory from the corner of our brains, we think that's the weird part.

so, we're giving it a go. send us your good energy would you? i love you. oh! and. i'm 30 now.