I had bragged for weeks before the trip that I was going to swim in the Pacific, despite the witch tit cold temperatures. Now the time had come for me to eat my words. After changing into Baby J's wetsuit, I tentatively stepped into the water. I immediately regretted all my bragging--my uncovered feet were in so much pain that I almost fell over. There was no turning back though, as I knew Baby J and Aussie would not allow it. They laughed from the beach, as I descended into the water, while throwing bits of gross seaweed out of my way. I finally made it in and swam around for about 3 minutes before I ran back out. I did it, I conquered the Pacific!
After we went around to a cove and climbed on the rocks. It was probably one of the prettiest places I have ever seen, once again. After I unpeeled my wetsuit and changed, we headed into town for some Mexican food. This is where the fiance enters--Baby J and Aussie's nickname for Summer Boo. I had made arrangements with him when I was home for Thanksgiving to meet up in Cali, since his parents had moved to Laguna. We had gotten along really well the last time we had hung out, which we sometimes do. Unfortunately, this was not one of those times. He was a bit awkward and probably really overwhelmed with the three of us sqwaking about our inside jokes and forcing him to listen to Cookies With a Smile. He stuck around though and tried his best. The group of us went up to a scenic overlook way up in the mountains, with a view of the ocean, where I took some phenomenal shots such as this shiz:
Once again, magical.
Next stop was a little sidetrip to Balboa Island, which is one of the most surreal places I have ever been. We took a ferry across a small channel to a tiny island, filled mostly with old carnival rides and retirees. We of course headed straight for the bar for happy hour after ruling out the ferris wheel, which seemed to be going freakishly fast. The final activity Summer Boo endured with us was going out for a night on the town back in Long Beach. He volunteered to drive, which was a huge mistake on his part. Our first stop was downtown Long Beach, to an empty wine bar which smelled like vomit. Our second try, brought us back to the bar we had been the day before. We sat awkwardly and Aussie tried to ask Baby J if he went to this bar a lot, but of course used the phrase "Do you come here often?", which sounded like a terrible pickup line. The three of us cracked up over that, while Summer Boo ordered apps. I ate most of them and made the keen observation that one of the sauces for the french fries "tasted like Thai"--the three of them apparently looked at me in confusion and wisely chose not to acknowledge that statement. Finally plans came together, and we were off to meet one of Baby J's friends in a different part of Long Beach (thanks for driving Summer Boo). On the walk to the car, I let out the biggest burp known to mankind and impressed everyone around us. Such classy behavior for California. We made it to a bar which was somehow filled with hipsters--we debated whether a bearded one in the corner was actually homeless. Feeling like I was back in Brooklyn I felt right at home and proceeded to try and have a good time with my friends. Summer Boo held back, apparently out of things to talk about. Awwwkward. Luckily we were soon able to witness Baby J and Baby Friend, play pool against two older, burly punk rock dudes (so California). The Babies lost terribly, even though the old punk rockers let them cheat. By the end of the night they were good buddies and I was a little afraid that they were going to hop in the car with us. Luckily they did not. Poor Summer Boo drove us all home, while listening us scream a voicemail to our crazy friend (member #3 of Team USA) about how much fun he was missing (the next day he irritatedly called me and referred to Baby J as a "baby bastard"). A successful night out for us, not so much for Summer Boo. I guess Baby J and Aussie won't be guests at our wedding after all. To be continued...
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