Message in a Bottle

            Portlan. Yep, like the city, minus the “D” on the end. He is one of my best friends with a killer Irish accent imitation.  We both studied abroad at the same time, and we both fell in love with writing at the same time.  He likes to write short stories and poems, and I like to write optimistic journalism articles.  Needless to say, we can sit, clear our minds, and just write. 

 There is something powerful about writing a message to a complete stranger with the possibility that your words can change their day or even their life.   We headed to La Jolla Cove and stopped by the gas station to get bottles.  I went for the Iced tea, he went for the Voss water.  It was the perfect day to be at the beach.  It was a nice hot, and the sun was glistening on the water.  We climbed up a huge rock, and gave each other distance to write.  Neither one of us had a premeditated notion of what we would write about.  So we sat, sat, sat some more, and then our pens started to move.  He asked how I would start mine and I responded clueless.  He said, “ Beck you have to start it off with: My name is Becky and this is my message in a bottle.” So that’s what I did despite its unoriginality. 

  

    I wrote what came to my mind first.  I sought to be an encouragement. An encouragement to do what he/or she needs to do, to know and understand the beauty of life and of this world.  I don’t know what Portlan wrote about. But I have no doubt that it was great.  I put my email on mine in hopes of a response and Portlan, well he went for the email, phone number, and Facebook… so stranger if you are out there reading this and you find Port’s bottle: respond, or else he will be very upset. 

            We tried to find the perfect place to drop them off in La Jolla, but there wasn’t any spot that we were particularly fond of.  We decided to drive to Ocean Beach and drop it off the pier.  We didn’t want to get in trouble for littering so we had to wait for the perfect moment.  When we noticed the bystanders weren’t looking at us, we knocked them over.  Talk about invigorating.  We just watched our message float in the big blue ocean and finally walked away. We did a fist pound and talked about how cool it would be if someone would actually respond… I guess all we can do now, is wait.  

Dear Julian: thank you for opening up the "Miner Diner"

I love San Diego, its where my heart is, but sometimes you just have to get away from home to realize how much you love it.  I have wanted to go visit the small town of Julian since freshman year of college.  It’s a small town.  It’s the kind of town where you don’t realize people actually live there.  You spend the day asking yourself, “Is there even a school here?” “where do they buy clothes?” and “doesn’t everyone know everything about everyone?”  I don’t understand the Gilmore Girls style of life, but I appreciate it.  I appreciate the small coffee shops and the gathering of families for “Oktoberfest,” but most of all, I appreciate this town for their apples. 

The real reason people go to Julian: Apple pie.  It was clear when we saw a line down the street for “Mom’s Pies.” The smell of cinnamon and sugar, and that secret recipe for the homemade crust keep visitors coming.  I couldn’t believe how many pies there were. Just one after the next.  It took me almost 6 hours to make one pie, they put my pie to shame, I’m okay with that though, ill let them be the experts on that one. 

Courtney and I had a great time on our day trip to Julian, until we got hungry.  Our goal of the day was simple, we wanted a good sandwich with sweet potato fries and we wanted an apple pie to take back to our roomies.  Our goal turned out to be harder than we thought.  After trinket store after trinket store, a stop at the tattoo parlor, and watching old men in lederhousens play the trumpet for "Oktoberfest," we decided it was time for that perfect sandwich.  We decided to ask a local… so clearly we found ourselves in the hardware store.   The man told us where we could find the best meat sandwich (also known as a hamburger) in the east county: Jeremy’s.  We went to Jeremy’s which turned out to be a Piano Bar type of place so we left and found ourselves at “The Miner Diner” aka the place where no one would ever want to work, except our friend Josh Martin, who had the privilege to grow up in Julian. 

After lunch we grabbed our apple pie with a cinnamon crust topping and headed home.  I couldn’t help but pick at the whole way home, despite Courtney slapping me on the hand telling me I needed to wait.

Small town of Julian: you were an interesting and strange place, but don’t be surprised if you see me again.  

Nudie Cuties

Lets see, how do I go about writing about this one. Let me start off by saying I have the best friends and roommates I could have ever wanted and needed. These

girls are all so different and all so amazing. We are a family. Laughter has brought us together, along with seasons of tears. We teach Shea Spanish, she helps us cook, EJ magically cleans the house and wears fancy business outfits, Courtney ligh

ts candles and shows us funny youtube videos, Dana makes us laugh and only has sufficient groceries if her mom comes to visit. They are a blessing and God has shown his love for me, by giving me them.

NOSING… its what crazy Point Loma kids do. NOSING of course stands for NAKED OCEAN SWIMMING… I’ve never done it, and what better bonding expe

rience could there be? So that was the plan, Thursday…at night, we would find a beach strip down our bathing suits and swim free in the ocean, to laugh harder than I have in a long time, and of course feel liberated.

We hopped in the Jetta, listen to inspirational rap music, and head down to South Mission Beach. You think the ocean is scary during the day

… try it at night! It was so creepy and the tide was unusually low. We couldn’t turn back now though… so there we stood.

No one was allowed to chicken out, even though EJ tried.

We bit the bullet, tore of our bathing suits and ran toward the big blue ocean. The water wasn’t as cold as you would think or maybe that was the adrenaline. We went head under, and just laughed… and laughed.. and laughed… what on earth are we

doing?? Earlier in the day Courtney was talking to her mom who refers to her as “ College Courtney,” and said “ Mom, im 20 years old, I do what I want.” We did what we wanted that night…sorry moms and dads.

It is a little strange talking about how I skinny-dipped in the ocean, but I did it and it was on my list, so there it is. Secrets don’t make friends right?

If you are reading my blog, become a follower because I love feedback and more bucket list ideas J See ya next week!

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