I’m sitting at a long, raw edge wood table. One designed for communal meals. Running along it’s center is a living garden. Plants grow out of it where centerpieces would be. Across the table, I can see Utopia Hostel’s bar.
I just looked at Rachel and asked “so.. you left off in Ensenada, right?” That seems like a month ago, but I think it’s only been a few days. I’ll catch you up chronologically, and if I haven’t typed ten thousand words, I’ll get into the details and my feelings and flowery language!
Wow, this is my (Josh’s) first attempt at writing a blog post in a long time, so please bear with me while I get back in the swing of things. I’m also writing this on my phone because I sold my computer last night. And for my final excuse, I just stole one of my father-in-law’s apple fritters and my fingers are sticky.
S.O.S. Because I’m 5 foot 2, I wanna dance witchu, and I’m sophisticated fun!
Ok. So I’m really 5’3″ (still not model height) and I’m more of a one-too-many-martinis fun. But I do wanna dance, and it would be really nice to have some quality motorcycle pants to show off my moves.