Costa Rica bound!

in

I have to be honest. The coolest thing about getting married is the honeymoon. It’s the one time in your life when everyone is supportive of your traveling anywhere for any length of time.

Often when you’re planning a trip, half the battle is getting the time off of work or convincing people that it’s the right time to go. Backlash may include:

“That’s too many days off.”

“It’s the wrong time of the year.”

“That’s too expensive.”

“You should go to (fill in the blank) instead.”

“Can I come?”

The honeymoon, by definition, is immune to all of these hurdles. You can take off the maximum number of days off from work; no one questions your destination judgment; and it’s ALWAYS the right time of the year to travel. No one except your spouse expects to go along for the ride (hopefully).

Amanda and I explored traveling literally everywhere – Europe, South America, Australia – and finally found a place that fit our budget and criteria for a beach-heavy destination that we haven’t yet explored. It was probably the toughest decision we’ve had to make related to the wedding (seriously) because the wedding is just one day, but this is two weeks of relaxation, exploration and eating! This is important stuff! So, we're off to...

COSTA RICA, AMIGOS!

1,100 miles of beaches. Under $600 round-trip from Chicago for both of us. Win-win.

I booked our airfare today, so it’s finally official! We still have some accommodation work to do but I don’t expect that to be too difficult. I just need a hammock. OK. We also need baños, so we’ll look at some hotel and beach house rental options.

It’s been more than two years since I’ve been out the country (excluding Canada), and I’ve been itching my eyes out to see another part of the world. Finally, I get some relief. Bonus: I get to travel with my then-wife!

Costa Rica ranks first in the Happy Planet Index and is the greenest country in the world

Embarking on another quarter at UW

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You might recall my post 4.0 is a perfect number during which I boasted my perfect GPA at the time. Yes, even Muhammad Ali lost boxing matches and even I don't always get straight A's.

Last quarter I received (gasp!) an A-, defeating my cumulative GPA to a 3.95. That class was about Web storytelling, and I produced a fairly nice video and quite possibly the first-ever research paper on Webisodes. Alas, it was not enough for a perfect grade according to the powers that be.

So now I march on with a GPA wound toward my mobile marketing class, which I am really excited about. The future is mobile, people! I'm even more excited about taking my first-ever break in grad school after this quarter. I kinda sorta need to take a four-week vacation around my wedding/honeymoon, and that doesn't jive with academic accountability.

With that carrot dangling in front of my nose, I'm going to work really hard to get another A on the board and get on track to graduate with a 3.99 GPA, so help me God.

The New Year’s Eve plan

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We’re headed up to Crystal Mountain again for the big party. Scott was kind enough to email us an itinerary, which I have pasted below verbatim. Is it any wonder why I had to proofread his MBA papers? a little itenerary: this week:, scott waxes and tunes paolo, court and his own skis.... Thurs: 4-6pm Paolo and amanda bring over a coordinated dinner to our house thursday afternoon around 430ish and while everyone prepares dinner, scott adjusts Amandas new skis to her boots.... then we eat Thurs:6-7:30pm We drive up to crystal Thurs:7:30-9pm we prefunk at the room and at the elk... mabye, might be crazy busy Thurs:9-10 we watch the fireworks! Thurs:10-10:30 we drive to the alphins cabin Thurs:10:30-1am We party! friday: we ski!!!!!!!!!!!

I joined a gym (or how I learned Zumba)

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Amanda’s phone rang Saturday morning. We didn’t recognize the phone number, so I picked it up. “Is Amanda there? This is Amontae at LA Fitness.”

I put the phone on mute.

“Amanda! Your boyfriend is on the phone!”

Amanda grabbed the phone and heard out Amontae’s sales pitch. Apparently Dad had joined the gym earlier in the day and listed us as his VIPs (aka sales referrals) who could use the gym for free for two weeks. Amontae had called to notify us and invite us to tour the gym.

We had already been talking about joining a gym for the last month anyway and for a few reasons:

1. It’s December, and EVERYONE talks about joining a gym in December. You can’t help but feel pale and bloated after a lack of sun and an overdose of food.

2. We have a wedding in FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS, and of course we want to look good. Really good. 3. I bought a used Bowflex on Craigslist and it’s really limited. It’s going back up for sale on Craigslist.

Lucky for Amontae, we took him up on his offer and went to meet him just a few hours later.

LA Fitness on 6th and Pearl in Tacoma is massive, at least compared to the Ballard gym I was at before. That felt like a toddler gym compared to this fitness mecca. It has a pool, jacuzzi, racquetball and basketball courts and more weight machines than I would ever have time to learn. Amontae got us in at a fair price (Read: Not January pricing), so we went all in and signed up for two gym memberships.

Amanda was particularly excited about the range of classes. I don’t know what it is about fitness classes, but women just love them. I would like to take a class about the psychology of why women love fitness classes.

Zumba is apparently all the rage right now, like strip aerobics before it. There always has to be an “IT” fitness class, right? Well, Zumba is it at the moment. The problem is that I had no idea what Zumba really was. This ignorance sacrificed my Sunday morning, when I agreed to take the hour-long class with Amanda.

I knew I was in trouble when I was the ONLY dude in the class. I usually enjoy being outnumbered 12:1, but this was a rare exception.

Zumba, I learned, was simple salsa dancing. The dance teacher was a Peruvian woman in her 40s who looked JUST like Moos’ mom, Alice. I really felt like the whole class was an invasion of privacy because all I did for an hour was watch Alice dance in front of a mirror and try to copy her. Creepy.

Lucky for me, I have great rhythm. Every girl I’ve danced with since St. Vincent’s junior high dances knows this. Of course, I was positioned in the dead center of the room. I was unwillingly the nucleus of this class, and no matter which way we turned everyone had a view of my cha-cha. I felt bad for the women behind me who had to endure my rump shaking for so long without enjoying a pinch. I’m sure I gave them a reason to sweat.

The workout itself was low-impact and low-strain. Personally, I’d be more interested in a boxing circuit or spin class, but I’m glad I can say I took a Zumba class for the next time I have to make conversation at a baby shower or find myself trapped in an elevator with an Oprah book club.

The things we do to stay in shape. Oy.