A few Months before I turned eighteen, that’s all I could think about, the freedom, the responsibility, and the opportunity to go to big people jail. I couldn’t wait! When July finally rolled around, all I could talk about was how I was officially going to be an adult and how I couldn’t wait to spend it with my boyfriend. We had been together for over six months and I was twitter pated. He transformed me into someone that I thought at the time was a better person, I didn’t drink anymore, smoke pot, and I even attended church a couple times. I was so content with my life. On July 17, he broke up with me. Nothing could fix this or make me feel better, not even my upcoming birthday…or so I thought. My cousin who was about to move to California heard through the grape vine that I was depressed and wouldn’t leave my room. She asked if I wanted to ride down to California with her and then she would fly me back into Pasco. I didn’t really have any motivation to go until my mom convinced me to go. On July 30th we set sail for Bakersfield, California in Kendle’s PT Loser, which had no cruise control.
Our Destination for the evening was Brookings, Oregon where we were going to stay with my Aunt Delores, Uncle Andy, and cousin, Ana and Alec. Kendle started off driving and I took over about an hour or two later and drove us into Brookings. We arrived around 10 o’clock at night with only minor direction malfunctions. The weather wasn’t so hot but when is it ever nice on the Oregon coast? We planned on staying the night and leaving early in the morning to make it to our next spot. So around 7 o’clock in the morning, we grabbed breakfast and Counterstrike at Fredmeyer and we were off. The California border is about an hour away from where they lived. Soon enough we were driving through the Redwood forest. The trees were huge! It was difficult to find someone to take a picture of both of us because the only stop along the way was full of bikers…uhh no thanks.
The whole way through the forest, there was a little river visible from the road. Since we were on no timed schedule, we decided to stop. At some points in was so wide you couldn’t fit it all into a picture and at other times, you could jump across it. The weather was beautiful, the water was warm, and the rocks were smooth, perfect conditions to walk across. I was determined to cross the river until Kendle pointed out some lovely bugs in the bottom of the river. She was nice enough to point this out when I had already made it to the other side.
She spent about fifteen minutes trying to persuade me to come back to the other side. I was scared shitless, I hate bugs; there was no way I was going across that. She ended up throwing me my shoes and I made it back safely. Afterwards, we dried our feet, hopped back in the loser, and headed to Ukiah, California, where we were crashing for the night. I figured it would be a calm evening downloading counterstrike, watching TV, and hot tubing…until we met Justin Daily.
We arrived at our hotel, The Discovery Inn…it was a beauty. We settled in, went downtown, and ate some dinner. After dinner we decided to go have some harmless fun and sit in the hot tub for awhile. While we were in the hot tub, a group of really good looking guys walked in, sat next to us, and started talking to us. They informed us that they had a bunch of pot and booze in their room if we wanted to come over and party. They seemed like decent people so when we returned to our room, we called their room to see if they wanted to bring some beverages and come hangout. Soon after, there was a knock on our door, and when we opened it, two guys strolled right in. We had some intelligent conversation for a little while…well all of us except Justin Daily. He was super smashed and funnier than watching an Ethiopian chase a doughnut down a hill. The guy ended up leaving his underage buddy, Justin Daily behind while he went to the bar. Who knew we’d be babysitting a stranger in a foreign town? This is when we really got to know Justin. He had an amazing job, he told us about four times, and every time he told us about his awesome landscaping job, his salary raised two dollars an hour. I think he ended up making 18 dollars an hour for that company. About an hour later, he decided he was cold because he had come over with no shirt and wet swimming trunks. Being the good Samaritan that I am, I offered my green American Apparel shirt to him. A couple more hours of him dancing, singing, and telling stories goes by and he decides it is time for him to go back to him room because he needs a shower. Well we all know it isn’t a smart idea to let a drunk person walk back to their room by themselves. I walked Justin back to his door, made sure he got in safe, and headed back to our room to get some rest, or so I thought. “Knock knock knock!” Who wants to hear this at two in the morning? Not me! I slowly emerged out of bed with a couple things running through my mind. Fear took over most of it, it was probably a killer. I mean, what else could it be, right? We all know our minds don’t function properly that early. So I peeked through the curtain to see who it was, luckily it was Justin’s friend with the medical Marijuana card. He said he couldn’t find Justin anywhere. All I’m thinking is, “Great, I’m in a strange city, it’s two in the morning, I wanna continue sleeping, and now I gotta go look for a drunk guy. Awesome!” I explained to them that I walked him back to their room and he was going to go to sleep. They said he wasn’t in the room because they were just there. Mind you, they just got back from the bar, they’re not all there. So I grabbed my flip flops and walked to their room with them. They ended up finding naked Justin lying under one of the hotel beds with 86 blankets on top of him. I started to head back when the blonde white Bob Marley insisted on walking me back. We chatted on the step outside my door for quite awhile, he really wasn’t as dumb as he appeared to be. Afterwards, I climbed into my bed and crashed.
We left the motel around eight or nine the next morning never seeing Justin or medical Marijuana kid ever again. The plan for the day was to make it to San Francisco and spend awhile there and then make it to Bakersfield by dinner time. Driving into San Francisco was nothing like I pictured, it looked like Gorillas in the Mist. It was dark and foggy, I guess shorts and a tee shirt wasn’t the best idea.
My goal for the day was to see Alcatraz so when I saw it on my way into town, I was pretty relieved. When we parked that was the first thing that we came to, I was stoked. I had completed something on my life to do list. We walked up and down the Fisherman’s Wharf for a couple hours. It was an experience to say the least. I was in culture shock due to all the talented bums on the street. The little gifts shops are always a plus in a tourist town. I carried my little backpack so I could shop and never have to carry a bag. Kendle bought an oyster and got to pick the pearl out of it. We also saw Hooters, In and Out Burger, and the wax museum, where we saw Obama. Apparently he planned a trip to San Fran the same time we did…how unfortunate. Around lunch time we stopped at the sourdough factory, bought bread bowls, and shared our lunch with some pigeons outside. They were overly friendly. After lunch we found an old school arcade in this weird warehouse. It was full of games that you didn’t win tickets from, it was definitely different. It was the same arcade they use in the movie, The Princess Diaries. A lot of the games were things that ‘read your mind’ or little scenes that you watched. On our way out of town, we swung into China Town. We could stay long because we were expected in Bakersfield that evening.
I was kind of upset to be arriving in Bakersfield. I felt as though my trip was over. That evening, we pulled up to her roommate’s apartment not knowing what the next few days had in store for us. Her roommate started us with Crown and Coke by the pool in the amazing 80 degree weather. After about three of those bad boys, I was Michael Phelps in that swimming pool.
I hadn’t had a sip of alcohol in almost a year thanks to my ex-boyfriend. Being the genius that I am, I was texting and swimming. If Michael Phelps can smoke a bong and be an Olympic athlete at the same time, I figured I could do something along those lines. Well, I was wrong. The next day, I had to go buy a new phone. Afterwards, we went shopping where I bought my casino dress for my birthday, which was inching closer. For the rest of that day and all of the next day, we lounged around the pool drinking fruity drinks getting a tan. We were living the dream, making friends, and not being held back my boyfriends.
August 4th finally rolled around and I was eighteen! I woke up around noon, had a light breakfast, and decided I’d start drinking until we left for the casino around five (the casino was about two hours away). Lying around the pool with Kendle drinking Long Island Ice Teas…sounds perfect, right? Not right. After two of those babies, I was out. I felt like shit, I honestly thought I was going to pass out in the pool. Kendle noticed that I didn’t look too well so we went inside. Apparently, a cup of yogurt isn’t enough breakfast to be drinking Kendle’s drinks (she likes them strong) out in the 90 degree weather. I felt as though it would be a safe move to lay by the toilet just in case I needed to yak everywhere. Well, it turns out that my drunk assumption was correct. I threw up about four times and then passed out on the bathroom floor, right next to the toilet. When I woke up, there was a pillow under me and a blanket over me; I must have been cold wearing just a bikini. I felt a lot better so I stood up and attempted to walk into the living room. Kendle was watching TV when I walked out. She claimed that it was 7:30 and that I had been asleep the whole time. I couldn’t believe it, I slept my birthday away. I was crushed, and on top of it, my mom thought I had died because I wasn’t returning her calls. Luckily, Kendle texted her back to assure her that I was not dead, just really drunk.
Kendle informed me that since I decided to take a power nap next to the superbowl, we were going to the bar/restaurant for Taco Tuesday’s instead of the casino. I was down; at least it gave me a place to wear my casino dress. We got to this place and the music was so loud, it felt like a semi truck and a train collided in my head. As if I didn’t have enough of a headache as it is, let’s add a jackhammer. At nine o’clock, the restaurant turned into a bar, and they didn’t kick me out for some reason. I wasn’t too concerned about it because I was so sick. I sat in my corner eating lettuce and downing ice water in fear of vomiting all over this place. Around 11:30pm everyone figured they were trashed enough and we could go now. Sitting outside contemplating what to do next, Jessica blurts out that we should go to the strip club because I have thirty minutes left of my birthday and I get in for free. I was against it but I figured I wouldn’t win if I tried so I just went with it. I mean, how bad could it be? I was more nervous than a whore at church, I had never dreamed of going to a place like that. Our group of around ten settles in right in front of the stage. It was a Tuesday night so it’s not like it was bumpin’ in there. The only people there were the weekday creepers. Girls kept walking up asking if I needed a dance. I would said no, but I was thinking, “Are you high? Why would I need a dance? I don’t even want one, let alone need.” About fifteen minutes of awkwardness passes and I figure we’re going to leave soon. I mean either that or they’re going to announce that it’s my birthday and pull me on stage. Someone was against me that day because I was pulled on stage where I had to sit in a chair. I was shaking in my boots, I didn’t know what to expect. I definitely didn’t want dollar dances from all the girls, but I guess we don’t always get our way. I had to sit on stage in front of all the weekday creepers and get danced on my baby powder infested women. I then had to stand up and ‘dance.’ This consisted of spinning on the pole, which actually moves, while the creeps threw me money on stage. After that was over, we left the strip club, and I left with exactly eighteen dollars.
Approaching four in the morning, I felt it was time to start packing to come home. My flight left at 5:45 that morning so we got home just in time. Kendle and I grabbed breakfast at Denny’s and before I knew it, I was Washington bound, where I was going to need about a week to recover from my California festivities.