All the posts that I have been meaning to write just never make it on here. I never posted about Juan’s birthday (which was on 7/21), nor did I make my official DH post. Oh well.

Last week I had a dentist’s appointment. It was on Monday, one of my usual days off (I have Sun/Mon off) at 10:30. I looked up bus schedules and planned my morning. Except that my first bus was late and it made me miss my connecting bus by one street light. I called the office and warned them I would be about half an hour late and they told me that my appointment wasn’t on that day. That it was next Monday and that it was at 11:30, not 10:30. *facepalm*

So I start to make my way back, stop by a Subway and had brunch. It wasn’t until five days had passed that I realized just how much of a doofus I am.

I called the wrong doctor’s office.

I called my podiatrist to warn them I would be half an hour late and not my dentist. LMAO *is lame*

What irks me though is that my dentist never called me. They never called to remind me of my appointment and they certainly never missed my absence on Monday. I have to call to reschedule still. But I don’t have money and I have so many things to take care of. My cavities will have to wait. *is even lamer* lol

So anyway, on Saturday we had plans to go to Rosarito in Baja California, Mexico for a quinceañera. Juan and I were “Padrinos de Salon”, one couple among many. What that means is that we helped sponsor the hall the party was going to be held at. It is a really common practice ’round these parts, even if it sounds completely tacky to people of different upbringing. Juan’s parents were “Padrinos de Honor” which meant that they were the godparents that counted. A quinceañera has a full on mass and you select godparents, much like you would for  a confirmation. In this case, they selected two couples, which was odd to me since I could only select one person when I had mine. But whatever. Juan’s parents were supposed to sit up front at the ceremony right behind the girl, except they didn’t go. They sent us in their place. o_0 I didn’t even know til the night before that we were going to be stand-ins for the big spots. It turned out to not be a big deal because we had absolutely no part in the mass other than a seat of honor. I didn’t get it either.

Anywho… after the mass, we decided to ditch the town. That’s right, we drove all the way to Baja for a mass. We didn’t plan on spending the night and the party wasn’t starting until 8pm (the mass started at 4:30). We had already walked around downtown, eaten some tacos, and basically tired ourselves out in the heat. So we decided to head back. Good thing too because the line at the border took us a little over two hours. At first it was amusing. Then it was outright frustrating.

I don’t know what the situation is anywhere else in the world when it comes to crossing the border. I have only ever encountered this phenomenon at the “garita” in Tijuana. There are so many street vendors and beggars. Mostly vendors and a few juggling kids performing for change. Our first purchase was homemade ice cream. Juan got nut and I got lemon. I can only speak for mine (even though Juan’s looked delish) and say that it was the most amazing lemon sherbert ever! After a while longer, we bought churros. We laughed and pointed out all the different methods of selling. Our windows were at least half ways up the entire time. Didn’t want to invite too many people over. They already tried hard enough. The most amusing addition this crossing by far was the pizza. THEY NOW SELL HOT PIZZA AT THE BORDER. A guy walks around with empty pizza boxes trying to get you to order one of four different pizzas (pepperoni, hawaiian, etc) and they will deliver it to your car while you wait. We laughed so hard at the sheer genius of it all.

Once we finally crossed we were so tired and sleepy that Juan had to make a pit stop and took a nap. So we stopped for about half an hour at a gas station somewhere past San Diego. We finally made it home around midnight.

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