Miami, the Third

At last, the long-awaited third part of the Miami trilogy. Here goes ...

I believe I left off on Tuesday, after our afternoon giddiness. That night, we had planned once again to meet up with the L.A. boys (aka our cruise directors) at Hotel Astor, which was purported to be the hot spot on Tuesday nights. So we got dressed to the nines, and after a delicious dinner at a local Cuban place, we headed over there. However, unbeknownst to us, Hotel Astor had recently changed hands and was no longer the happenin' place it used to be. We arrived at the bar just as it was closing up, but the bartender, noting that we were meeting the large group eating dinner in the attached restaurant, took our drink orders anyway. We caught the attention of our friends, and they immediately went to work securing us a good time that evening. Somehow they were able to convince the new owners/managers to keep the place open for us provided we fill it up to the best of our ability. I'm not sure if we necessarily accomplished that task, but they fulfilled their end of the bargain and we hung out there for a good portion of the evening. I ended up meeting many more of the interesting characters traveling with this group of "industry" folks, all of whom were very fun and friendly and happy to just whoop it up with some random ladies (us) they met along the way. Our next stop was Mansion, which apparently everyone has heard of, except me. Now, perhaps I was drunk (no doubt about it, actually), but it seemed to me like we just waltzed right into this club, skirting the line entirely, because one of the people we were with sprung for a VIP room. I'm positive about the VIP room part, but not about the walking in ahead of people part. Anyhoo, I think there may have been some kind of party going on that night too, like for VH1 or something, but again, the whiskey makes things a little cloudy. :) (p.s. I swear I'm not an alkie!) But regardless, we danced the rest of the night away at Mansion and had a rollicking good time. That is, until I LOST MY CAMERA'S MEMORY CARD!!! I was handing my camera to someone to take a picture, and I dropped it. I noticed that the batteries had popped out, so I grabbed them up and put them back in, but couldn't get the camera to work after that. I guess I just thought I put the batteries in wrong or something, because I dismissed the matter and put the camera back in my purse. But after I got home (i.e. to the hotel), I tried it again, and it gave me the message that there was no memory card! Gnaaaghhh! Having no hope, I called the club several times to see if anyone had found it, but no luck. I lost ALL my pictures from the trip, as well as everything I had taken since mid-October. I was crushed. But luckily, I have very nice friends who promised they'd share their pics with me. :) Also, at Mansion, J met some random dude who said he had extra Super Bowl tickets and wanted her to go with him!! No way could he have been for real, but it was certainly fun to dream about the possibility for a minute or two. People kept asking us why we didn't extend our stay through the weekend of the game, and we definitely considered it, but when you think about it, what would have been the point if we didn't have tickets? We'd just end up at some bar watching the game anyway, like we'd be doing if we were at home. The only fun thing would be actually being there for the partying afterwards. However, as I'm sure everyone is already aware, our Chicago boys lost anyway, so it would have been bittersweet. So no big loss.

Oh! I almost forgot! The hookers! On our way out of Mansion that night, there was this group of women who, for some unknown reason, were hugging us as we came out of the building. It seemed a little odd, but I didn't really think anything of it until ... J and I got into a cab to go back to the hotel, and one of the guys we were with, we'll call him Keith, leaned into the window to pay the cabbie for our fare home. As he did so, one of the hugging women (though I did not actually see this happen), came up behind him, reached around, and grabbed him *ahem* you-know-where. A minute later, he's yelling, "Who took my money? Where's my money?" I guess it was at this point that the cabbie drove away to take us home. But HE had seen the whole thing and knew exactly what these women were doing, which he proceeded to explain to us. Apparently, they grab a man's you-know-what, which according to the cabbie, "leaves his backside wide open," not to mention distracts him to the point that he wouldn't notice he was being robbed, and they take his wallet right out of his back pocket! Unbelievable! Telling us this got the cabbie all riled up, and had J and I rolling with laughter in the backseat. We felt incredibly bad for Keith, who had been nothing but nice the whole night, but you gotta admit, the technique is pretty genius. :)

So that was our last night in Miami. On Wednesday, we hopped a bus (FYI, we learned the hard way that you need to flag down the buses in Miami or they won't stop for you!), which happened to be the wrong bus, down to South Beach one last time for lunch at the same Cuban place we'd gone to the night before. We just had to have Cuban sandwiches, and had been told that they'd have tres leches that day. We were disappointed that they did NOT, in fact, have any tres leches, but the sandwiches were very good. I can't remember if it was Tuesday or Wednesday, but one of those days, when we were walking down the boardwalk, looking at all the Super Bowl tents and press areas and what have you, we ran into Deion Sanders taping something. That was pretty cool ... even though we had to ask someone who it was. :) The rest of the day was basically spent shopping (I got some sunglasses and a pretty silver cuff bracelet made out of an antique tablespoon) and taking one last look around Miami Beach before we headed back to cold, cold Chicago. And man, was it cold when we got back! The first couple days were absolutely depressing. I wanted to turn around and fly right back!

But anyway, the trip was a wonderful success (despite J getting a stress fracture in her foot after the marathon/crazy dancing, which she confirmed after she got home), and the three of us have all professed an interest in doing it again next year. Or maybe if J decides to run the marathon in Hawaii ...

Miami, Part II

When last we talked, J and A and I had just been invited up to Pearl, where there appeared to be a private party going on. We had heard rumblings throughout the night that Mr. Mike Ditka was supposed to be in attendance, but when we asked at the bar, we were informed he had left already!! But no worries, we drank our free mojitos from our new "friend" and danced on the tables anyway (seriously, ON the tables - though I think they were there just for that purpose). Shortly after escaping our rather creepy new "friend" (who stalked us outside the bathroom until he resigned himself to the fact that we weren't coming out until he left) and scoring some more free drinks from a man with teeth stained purple from red wine, who spit when he talked, we finally ran into our L.A. friends, who rescued us from the scary, yet generous, people. At one point, one of them asked us, "Hey, did you see Mike Ditka? He's right over there." Much squealing and fumbling for cameras ensued, and we made our way over to his table. J asked him very politely if he wouldn't mind taking a picture with three lovely ladies from Chicago, which he did graciously ... but not without grabbing A's butt first. Yeah, he was rather intoxicated. It was awesome. :) Maybe, if I can figure out how to put pictures on here, I'll post it. If you're nice. After more table-dancing and other shenanigans, we eventually found our boys from DC down in the Nikki Beach VIP area, and were able to chat with them again, as well. So yeah, that was a fun night. Exhausted from partying our bootys (booties?) off, we (meaning, J, A, Tom-the-L.A.-boy, and me) headed over to Jerry's Famous Deli for a late night nosh. I think they have, like, 600 things on their menu. It was pure insanity.

That was a very late night. I can't be entirely sure what time we got home, but my guess is somewhere around 5:30 a.m. Yep. It was fun. And funny 'cause A and I told just about everyone we met that J had run the marathon that morning, and everyone was so impressed! So much so that J became known as "that girl who ran the marathon," which I think she started getting a little annoyed by. Sorry, hun. :)

The next day, Monday, we vowed to take it a little easier. I can't recall exactly what we did during the day, the days kind of run together after so much time has passed by. But I can guarantee you it either included a walk down to SOBE, or a trip to the beach/pool, or both. (Actually, upon further consultation with J, this was the day we went on a quest to find a lunch spot in our hotel's neighborhood, which turned into a disgusting tour of the filthiest Jewish delis we'd ever seen, and an episode of what I can only describe as racial discrimination based on the fact that we were the only Non-Jewish people in one of the restaurants we walked into. We received stares from every person in the place when we arrived, no one spoke to us, and twice, I was unnecessarily knocked into by a waitress who did not apologize, or even seem to acknowledge my presence. Never in my life had I been so uncomfortable in a place, and felt so unwelcome. I so wanted to connect with this neighborhood - to say I'd found this great little cafe that I'd return to on every visit - but apparently, the neighborhood did not want me. We eventually found a little French place that, though the service left much to be desired, had excellent sandwiches, which we brought to the hotel pool and devoured. Yum.) That night, we decided to go for dinner at a seafood place we happened upon, which, even though I was the initiator of the seafood idea, I unfortunately regret. Apparently something I ate at dinner (or possibly something before dinner, I'm not entirely sure), did not sit well with me, and I started feeling really ill. Incidentally, I do not recommend the Scallops Marsala at Grillfish. Even if they had not made me sick, the wine in the sauce had saturated the mushrooms, and made them taste like pure alcohol. I opted to return to the hotel directly after dinner, even missing out on the fancy shots we had been given by some patrons at the bar (See what I mean about the free drinks??), and I believe J and A met our L.A. friends again at a nearby bar or club. What transpired there, I will never know, but I think they had a good time. Me, I was stuck in the hotel, feeling not-so-hot. I did get to talk to my Mom for a little while, though, and relate our adventures so far, so that was nice. Needless to say, I went to bed early.

The next morning, feeling nearly back to normal, we decided to make a trek down to South Beach again to see what we could see. We walked all along the boardwalk again, marveling at all the Super Bowl tents and stages for ESPN and whatnot that were being set up, and then cut in to where all the restaurants and shops were. Did a little window shopping, and stopped for lunch at one of the many places that shoved their menus in our faces as we walked by. :) Okay, they didn't really shove them in our faces, but practically. Unfortunately, not being in "summer mode" and not being in a bathing suit where this may have occurred to me, I neglected to put on any sunscreen, and was wearing a deep V-neck shirt, so I got myself a wee bit sunburned. Didn't really realize the extent of it until that night when I got dressed to go out, but it was pretty red ... and funny-looking. That afternoon, we were feeling a bit loopy as we bought some junk food at our neighborhood convenience store, and some delicious cafe con leche at this little deli/diner thingie, and decided that the name of the hot sauce on the table was absolutely hilarious: Chilly Willy, "Try me! I'm hot and tasty!" This was to be J's slogan for the night. Can you say slap happy? We even returned to the convenience store to see if they sold it. Sadly, they did not. Otherwise, everyone reading this might now be the proud owner of a bottle of Chilly Willy hot sauce.

Up next: The final installment, in which we say goodbye, and I experience a terrible loss. Oh, and there will also be hookers.

Miami, Part I

Well, I've put it off for long enough ... here is the long-awaited (at least in my imagination where people actually read my blog and are interested in my life) Miami trip recap post. Actually, posts, plural, because apparently I don't have enough time to do it all at once!

In case you weren't aware, the reason I was in Miami was because my good friend (and an incredible athlete) J was running the marathon, and my lovely friend A and I decided we'd go down there to cheer her on and make a little vacation out of it. It was a splendid idea and a wonderfully fun trip.

After spending about 6 hours at the airport trying unsuccessfully to get on an earlier afternoon flight, J and I arrived in Miami late on Friday, and pretty much only had time to check into our hotel and crash. The hotel (Circa 39) was pretty cute. We were in a suite, which was like a little apartment, and ended up being the perfect size for three girls. There was a little courtyard right outside our room, too. The lobby was very pretty, and there was a small bar that had a free happy hour every evening, and a small cafe with a surprisingly large breakfast selection every morning. The pool area was also very pretty, though the pool itself could have used a little TLC. Aside from the fact that every 24 hours our key cards would stop working and we had to get new ones, the stay at the hotel was very pleasant. It was farther north than the action of South Beach, which was nice because we knew we'd be able to go back to the hotel at night and actually sleep. Although the neighborhood we were in ... well, I'll get to a story about that later.

Saturday morning, the two of us got up and headed down the beach to the Expo where J had to check in for the marathon, which would be the following day. As we walked out of the hotel, we discovered that we were literally across the street from the ocean, and there was a gorgeous boardwalk all down the beach, so that's what we took to get to the convention center. The entire journey down the beach, I just soaked it all in. I'd never been to the Atlantic before, and I wanted to make sure I experienced it fully. The weather was beautiful, if a little cool at times, but it was just what I needed at the end of January. :) The Expo was pretty cool, with all the different vendors selling their fitness-related wares. J bought a new pair of sunglasses for running, and I got to try a ... cube thingie. I forget what they're called, but they are these little energy cubes that runners eat while they run to replenish nutrients they may be losing. It was tasty. Oh, and we also got to see where they were setting up the press area for the Super Bowl! That was cool, and only one of the many Super Bowl themed things we saw that week. As we left the Expo, we noticed a cute little Botanical Garden across the street, so we took a stroll through there and became one with nature. Okay, maybe not, but we took some very pretty pictures of flowers. Then, after a failed attempt to find a grocery store (Don't people actually LIVE in Miami Beach??), we stopped off at a local convenience store for provisions, then headed to the beach to wait for A to arrive.

J had read about an Italian restaurant on Espanola Way, called Hosteria Romana, that she wanted to try (needing pasta the night before her race), so when A arrived, we headed down that way again for the most entertaining dining experience I had had in a very long time. I knew it would be fun when the host insisted we hold his elbow and be escorted to our seats. Everyone who worked there was Italian, or so it seemed, and they shouted back and forth to each other in Italian throughout the evening. The waiters were all adorable and flirty with the customers, and A even succeeded in getting a couple phone numbers! There was a man with an iguana on his back at the bar, and a snare drum at the entrance that the staff would occasionally beat out a tune on. And yeah, the food was awesome, too. :) After dinner, J decided to head back to the hotel to get her beauty sleep before her race, so A and I went to the bar at the Delano for a drinky. That place was absolutely gorgeous, and I'd go back there in a minute if I could. As are many of the bars/clubs in SOBE, it was outside, with a pool with beds surrounding it, little cabanas for small gatherings of people, and just a beautiful beach atmosphere. We ended up meeting some really cool people that night, who were in Miami for various reasons. We met some gentlemen from Washington DC in town for a golf tournament, and a couple of guys from L.A. in town on business (direct marketing). These were very fortuitous meetings, too, because those cool people led us to some cool clubs and fun events throughout the rest of our stay in Miami. Having satisfied ourselves with a couple drinks and a few more phone numbers, A and I called it a night.

The next morning was the marathon!! Unfortunately for J, it was raining all morning, so we were worried her run was going to be miserable. After a cab ride into the city with the most friendly, accommodating cabbie I've ever met, A and I camped out at the finish line so we could see her as she crossed. When she did, we were like proud parents!! I thought she did so well! Hell, just FINISHING one of those things is a major accomplishment. Apparently it was a very difficult run because of the rain and the humidity that followed, but she made it!! She was drenched to the skin, but she did it! Yay! I was proud. And now it was time to party. :) I think the rest of the afternoon was spent either hanging out at the pool or the beach (where the wind was blowing sand in our faces/hair/clothing/ears), but that evening, we were ready for a night on the town. We had been invited by the L.A. boys we met the night before to a club called Opium Garden for a party they were hosting with free food and drinks, so we decided to make that the first stop of the evening. Then, we planned on moving to Nikki Beach, the supposed Sunday night hot spot, where we'd meet up with the DC fellas. Opium Garden was beautiful, and the free drinks and food were pretty sweet. :) The L.A. boys were surprised and happy that we actually showed up, and they informed us that their plans were also to head over to Nikki Beach later that night, after one other stop they had to make. So after the freebies were over, we went to the "place to be" on a Sunday night in South Beach (who knew??), and what do you think happened? More freebies! Never in my life had I had such an ego trip because of all the people willing to buy us girls drinks! Nikki Beach is another outdoor venue right on the beach (sand and all), and after exploring for a bit, J and A and I settled into a couple of couches and observed the scene. It was ... interesting. I was having so much fun that night that I didn't notice it too much, but the superficiality of the place is such that I wouldn't want to spend any long spans of time there. But for a vacation to escape the everyday humdrum, it was perfect. It was not long at all before a local gentleman (relatively speaking) approached us and offered to get us upstairs to the restuarant and lounge, Pearl, that we had noticed was roped off. We accepted his offer, and his mojitos. :) And I'm sure glad we did.

Up next: Part II, in which a certain Chicago Bear makes an appearance ...

in the middle of the ni-i-ight ...

The other day, I was driving home from (work? parents' house?) somewhere, and I heard a song on the radio that I had not heard in a very long time. In case you're wondering, it was Billy Joel's "River of Dreams" or whatever the heck that thing is called. This was never a particular favorite of mine, but I remember that the summer after it came out, it was EVERYWHERE. I could not escape it. I believe I had it stuck in my head for the entire week my family and I were on vacation. I can't remember exactly where we were that year, but it was on a lake (or system of lakes) that my Dad kept saying was very choppy and rough in the middle, so we pretty much stayed near the edges when we were out on the boat. That was the vacation that my brother and I spent mainly in the "entertainment building" that had a pool table and a jukebox. When I wasn't humming the Billy Joel song, my brother and I put some quarters in the jukebox and jumped around to Kris Kross' "Jump." It was fun.

So I began thinking about these random songs and how they remind me of vacations. I thought about another vacation (one of the many spent on Lost Land Lake near Hayward, Wisconsin), and how I'd had a mix tape with me that year that contained the Gin Blossoms' "Till I Hear it From You" and a song by Blues Traveler. I remember listening to the Gin Blossoms song over and over again while drooling over the cute boys in the teeny-bopper magazines (not that the two necessarily mesh well together). The next Christmas I asked for the Empire Records soundtrack specifically because that song was on it. I was a bit disappointed in myself, though, that I couldn't remember which Blues Traveler song was on that tape. I wonder if I still have it ...

But yeah. The radio? That day it was tuned in straight to my brain while I was driving home from where ever I was, because after the Billy Joel song ended, the next song to come on was ... wanna guess? Yep. Gin Blossoms "Till I Hear it From You." No kidding.