Blond on the Beach aka Once Bitten, Twice Shy.

Today has been rough. I somehow hit a wall at chillis. And the wall i hit was me getting scheduled during the spring break. I got to the book to late, and others had asked for the time off. So I am going to miss the Goodman/Rocky Pointe Adventure. I want to relive some of these adventures with you...just so you can know how important Rocky Pointe aka Puerto Penasco Mexico has been in my life.

BLOND ON THE BEACH... You know those woman who sabatoge everything good and amazing in their lives. I have a way of doing that. I was 19. It was my first year of college. I was at Ricks. My family had decided to go to Rocky Pointe for the first time ever. I had heard about Rocky Pointe from sooo many people. It was where the cool families and cool kids (whose moms let them go with other families) went for Spring Break. I was not going to miss this for the world. I had an obstacle standing in my way. My job at the plasma center. And wouldn't you know it, I asked for the time off. Yet, others with greater foresight than I, had already asked for it off. So I got denied. Yet, those who knew me back then, know that a little thing such as "the best job a student could have in Rexburg aka an employee at the plasma center" would not stand in my way of being at Rocky Pointe for Spring Break. I packed my things, got a flight and headed out. had Starr call me in sick. She was annoyed at her task and claimed I had Bochalism. In addition to just being in Mexico, I also decided I wanted to be "Blond on the Beach". I used this phrase often, sliding it into conversations whenever I could. Like, "what are you doing for Spring Break Jodi", I would respond, "I'm going to be blond on the beach".

Now for some reason, I didn't know about high lights. I had watched my mom dye her hair with Nice and Easy. I had died my hair bright red, dark brown, emo black... and somehow I missed the memo that lightening hair, aka making it "blond on the beach" is another process. To make a long story short I just mixed up the solution and saturated my whole head of hair with it (Starr did it actually). My roots, or the area closest to my head (where the heat of one's scalp activates the bleach) was white and the other areas were a streaky blond/orange/tangerine mess. I didn't know about toner, so I just proceeded as/is. Yikes. However, I played it cool. I was going to be blond on the beach(albeit, sort of a Tangerine/white on the scalpie blond) My mom was mortified when they picked me up at the airport with my 7-toned, moppy hair. When she said, "jod, what did you do?", My response was not as chipper and sort of faded into mummbles, "i wanted to be blond on the beach".

CARDON COME BACK AND LOVE ME AGAIN....

We went to Denver to meet my boyfriends family. Towards the end of the trip, we both pretty much knew it was over, but I have a habit of when the love is dying, and things look bleak, and theres really no chance in hell that I belong with this man, and we both are starting to despise the other for the reasons people begin to despise the other (one loves too much and the other loves too little, and nothing makes people hate each other more, than staying in something so unequally balanced, once that divide is apparent). What I like to do at this point, is to drag it out and hold on tighter, to try harder and attempt to ignite any smoking ashes that are left after the blaze of a love affair had grown cold.

This had all transpired. We had our final "talk" and I was cool with it. My friends were leaving to Rocky Pointe in the morning, I thought, "just the ticket to get me over this kid, i'll be in the sun, i'll eat fish taco's, I will burn my skin and talk broken Spanish, this is what I need". To make a long story short. I should never, never, ever be on the road when the little heart been recently demolished. Just shouldn't. I cried on the beach, I had water works going strong at Flavio's (the taco joint). I mourned the loss of my beloved as Mexican's tried to sell me a piece of rice with my name on it. I thought, "what if I put Cardon's name on it, and give it to him or maybe a grain of rice that says 'J+C= love,' maybe that would be the ticket, to winning his heart. I broke out in tears that night as fireworks were ablaze, thinking, "Cardon would really enjoy these fireworks, i wish he were here". Rocky Pointe couldn't heal my heart, but those fish taco's and orange soda eased the pain just a bit.

Today...I am not quitting Chilli's to go to Rocky Pointe (but I thought about it), nor am I dying my hair a lighter pigment. I have so many more stories about the adventures there. Those are for another day. Rocky Pointe, is where friendships and loves had been made and lost. It is where I slept in a slip for an RV while suffering because my skin was crsispy, blistered and raw (on day 1, four more to go). Oh tribute to you Puerto Penasco.... you are like our sister city. We love you.