Nine Days in Costa Rica

My nine-day trip to Costa Rica started out with a very simple phone call. I was living in Arlington, Virginia at the time - just across the river from Washington, DC - when I checked my voicemail and found a message from my friend, Jerome, in Denver. Famous for his long, rambling voicemails, Jerome left me with some words that were so funny and profound that I transcribed them right then and there, knowing that they were something I wanted to keep and remember. Here is what he said:

“Hello, Jarrett. This is Jerome. I would like you, tonight, to go against all Jarrett-isms that possibly exist, go against your complete philosophy, and I would like you to take just about a week off work, June 5th through the 13th, and go to Costa Rica with me. I want you to get on your computer, go to Orbitz, and buy a ticket – round trip ticket to San Jose, Costa Rica – and go travel and get fucked up and meet Latin women with me for, you know, about a week and, you know… ticket from Denver’s four-hundred dollars. So, you have a credit card. I know you’ve got a good little limit on it. I want you to go against all Jarrett-isms and just say, ‘You know what, why the hell not?’ And, you know, put your time in at work and buy yourself a plane ticket to Costa Rica. Put some clothes in a backpack and go fucking party, man. Let me know.”

For the sake of clarity, it should be noted that Jerome's primary source of amusement on this planet is derived from my frugality and general attention to detail. He's completely fascinated with my ability to stretch a dollar, and then scrutinize the exact breakdown of that dollar. This, then, explains what he meant by "Jarrett-isms." Basically, he was asking me to stop being such a cheap bastard, and pony up for some crazy adventure in Costa Rica - which, I should say, is my primary modus operandi for being so cheap and OCD in the first place. So, really, it all worked out.

Anyway, later that evening, after calling him back, we both had tickets to San Jose. (map: www.govisitcostarica.com)

NOTE: After looking at these photos, one might come to the conclusion that I spent the previous six years feasting, primarily, on beer and fudge. Sadly, that's not too far off.