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Married...without Children

Title: Married...Without Children

Address: lifeafterbiola.com

Author: Becka

From: Santee

Blogging since: February 2004

Post Date: October 26, 2007

Post Title: Discovering Ensenada Sooo...Mexico. We took a shuttle out of San Diego. Mexico is a laid-back country in most aspects, but driving is an exception to the rule. I have to admit that I had my doubts about our bus driver. She was barely clearing 80 pounds, and there were more teeth missing than showing in her mouth. Once again, I learned not to judge. She nailed the trip. On the drive home, she yelled and honked with the rest of them. She inched closer and closer to a car blocking an intersection and said, 'I'll just give them a little bump, okay?' as she smiled back at us. Fortunately the car moved in the nick of time. She gave new meaning to the Carrie Underwood song, "Jesus Take the Wheel." I felt like I was driving with dad (control in chaos), and there was a comfort in that.

My Spanish vocabulary is limited to words shared with the English language. For example, I can say, "burrito," "taco," "enchilada," "tortilla," and "rodeo." Beyond that, it's an awkward game of charades. Fortunately, the only word I really needed to know was "margarita."

We stayed at the Hotel Corona on the water. Other than the plaster on the inside, it looked like a Holiday Inn...except for the vending machine in the lobby:

Sponsored
Sponsored

D-7 = Doritos

B-1 = Nature Valley Granola Bars

A-2 = Marlboros

A-3 = Marlboro Lights

G-9 = condoms

Add beef jerky and it's pretty much 7-Eleven in a cute compact case.

As for the food, we had fresh fish tacos at a very non-FDA-approved taco stand. They didn't speak English, but I'm pretty good at pointing and Spanish numbers. I said "Ocho" and held up one finger. She looked confused, but perhaps she didn't get my enunciation.

They told me not to drink the water, but what's the worst that could happen? I get sick? I could get a giant intestinal worm? Come on! Both of those would result in effective, rapid weight loss. I'm playing my girl card here. Give me some water. Unfortunately, I didn't get sick and I didn't lose weight. Some people just don't have any luck.

The wedding was a very traditional Mexican wedding, meaning no one showed up for the ceremony and everyone showed up for the party. If there's one thing the Mexican people know how to do well, it's throw a good party.

Reception start time: 7 p.m.

Dinner: 10:30 p.m.

Cake: 1:30 a.m.

Go home: 4 a.m.

Weddings on this side of the border suddenly look like glorified tea parties.

Post Date: September 22, 2007

Post Title: The Fight

Chris and I had a "difference of opinion" last night. We were talking about baby names, and it led to a heated "discussion." Why were we fighting about baby names? I have absolutely no idea. Now, before you get those panties in a bunch, I'm not preggo. Maybe someday, but not today. Anyway, we already have two girl names picked out. Some people don't like to say what they are naming their kids so that no one steals the names, but I'm putting it out there that these are our names, and if someone steals them, I'm printing this blog to prove ownership of said names.

If you do steal them or our initial ideas, I'll never talk to you again, which, for some, wouldn't be a bad thing. Now, Cole, no fair popping out another kid just so you can steal our names and reap the benefits of me never speaking to you again. That's just mean.

Girl name #1 -- Natalie Remington Atkinson. N.R.A. We totally dig the initials and the gun name right in the middle should evoke fear in any guy's heart who is interested in dating her.

Girl name #2 -- Hennessey Monea Atkinson. French cognac and the most beautiful Irish castle I've ever seen -- plus, Paula and I chased cows there. Good memories. Why Hennessey? It's a pretty name and Chris wants to call her "C."

No problems, right? Um, yeah. Except if genetics play any role, we won't even have a girl. So that's what our "discussion" was about last night -- boys' names. Wanna hear what Chris wants to name our prodigy?!? Kire. Like, Tire with a K. He wants to nickname him "Er." Ooooh, but it doesn't stop there. He wants...ready...wait for it...Kire Optimus Prime Atkinson.

Yeah, that's when I started laughing so hard I cried.

Well, he relinquished "Optimus Prime," but he's not budging on "Kire." It will be a cold day in hell, buddy. Cold...day...in hell.

Post Date: August 17, 2007

Post title: Excuse Me, How Much Is That?!?

We've got this delicious bin of Peanut M&Ms at the office. I'd plunder the stash at least three or four times a day -- until I realized how many sets of hands went into that thing. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the thought of the quantity of germs in there. So overwhelmed that I became intensely interested in who did and who did not wash their hands after they used the restroom. Frankly, I don't know what kind of obsessive compulsive psychopath makes tiny tears in the bathroom dry towels to see who is and who is not a believer in hand sanitization. What kind of crazy do you have to be to...

Oh, who am I kidding. I totally did that. But you guys don't understand my desperate need for Peanut M&Ms! And the results? If I get the inkling for a Peanut M&M, I'm buying my own.

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Title: Married...Without Children

Address: lifeafterbiola.com

Author: Becka

From: Santee

Blogging since: February 2004

Post Date: October 26, 2007

Post Title: Discovering Ensenada Sooo...Mexico. We took a shuttle out of San Diego. Mexico is a laid-back country in most aspects, but driving is an exception to the rule. I have to admit that I had my doubts about our bus driver. She was barely clearing 80 pounds, and there were more teeth missing than showing in her mouth. Once again, I learned not to judge. She nailed the trip. On the drive home, she yelled and honked with the rest of them. She inched closer and closer to a car blocking an intersection and said, 'I'll just give them a little bump, okay?' as she smiled back at us. Fortunately the car moved in the nick of time. She gave new meaning to the Carrie Underwood song, "Jesus Take the Wheel." I felt like I was driving with dad (control in chaos), and there was a comfort in that.

My Spanish vocabulary is limited to words shared with the English language. For example, I can say, "burrito," "taco," "enchilada," "tortilla," and "rodeo." Beyond that, it's an awkward game of charades. Fortunately, the only word I really needed to know was "margarita."

We stayed at the Hotel Corona on the water. Other than the plaster on the inside, it looked like a Holiday Inn...except for the vending machine in the lobby:

Sponsored
Sponsored

D-7 = Doritos

B-1 = Nature Valley Granola Bars

A-2 = Marlboros

A-3 = Marlboro Lights

G-9 = condoms

Add beef jerky and it's pretty much 7-Eleven in a cute compact case.

As for the food, we had fresh fish tacos at a very non-FDA-approved taco stand. They didn't speak English, but I'm pretty good at pointing and Spanish numbers. I said "Ocho" and held up one finger. She looked confused, but perhaps she didn't get my enunciation.

They told me not to drink the water, but what's the worst that could happen? I get sick? I could get a giant intestinal worm? Come on! Both of those would result in effective, rapid weight loss. I'm playing my girl card here. Give me some water. Unfortunately, I didn't get sick and I didn't lose weight. Some people just don't have any luck.

The wedding was a very traditional Mexican wedding, meaning no one showed up for the ceremony and everyone showed up for the party. If there's one thing the Mexican people know how to do well, it's throw a good party.

Reception start time: 7 p.m.

Dinner: 10:30 p.m.

Cake: 1:30 a.m.

Go home: 4 a.m.

Weddings on this side of the border suddenly look like glorified tea parties.

Post Date: September 22, 2007

Post Title: The Fight

Chris and I had a "difference of opinion" last night. We were talking about baby names, and it led to a heated "discussion." Why were we fighting about baby names? I have absolutely no idea. Now, before you get those panties in a bunch, I'm not preggo. Maybe someday, but not today. Anyway, we already have two girl names picked out. Some people don't like to say what they are naming their kids so that no one steals the names, but I'm putting it out there that these are our names, and if someone steals them, I'm printing this blog to prove ownership of said names.

If you do steal them or our initial ideas, I'll never talk to you again, which, for some, wouldn't be a bad thing. Now, Cole, no fair popping out another kid just so you can steal our names and reap the benefits of me never speaking to you again. That's just mean.

Girl name #1 -- Natalie Remington Atkinson. N.R.A. We totally dig the initials and the gun name right in the middle should evoke fear in any guy's heart who is interested in dating her.

Girl name #2 -- Hennessey Monea Atkinson. French cognac and the most beautiful Irish castle I've ever seen -- plus, Paula and I chased cows there. Good memories. Why Hennessey? It's a pretty name and Chris wants to call her "C."

No problems, right? Um, yeah. Except if genetics play any role, we won't even have a girl. So that's what our "discussion" was about last night -- boys' names. Wanna hear what Chris wants to name our prodigy?!? Kire. Like, Tire with a K. He wants to nickname him "Er." Ooooh, but it doesn't stop there. He wants...ready...wait for it...Kire Optimus Prime Atkinson.

Yeah, that's when I started laughing so hard I cried.

Well, he relinquished "Optimus Prime," but he's not budging on "Kire." It will be a cold day in hell, buddy. Cold...day...in hell.

Post Date: August 17, 2007

Post title: Excuse Me, How Much Is That?!?

We've got this delicious bin of Peanut M&Ms at the office. I'd plunder the stash at least three or four times a day -- until I realized how many sets of hands went into that thing. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the thought of the quantity of germs in there. So overwhelmed that I became intensely interested in who did and who did not wash their hands after they used the restroom. Frankly, I don't know what kind of obsessive compulsive psychopath makes tiny tears in the bathroom dry towels to see who is and who is not a believer in hand sanitization. What kind of crazy do you have to be to...

Oh, who am I kidding. I totally did that. But you guys don't understand my desperate need for Peanut M&Ms! And the results? If I get the inkling for a Peanut M&M, I'm buying my own.

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