I was considering another title for this post, specifically: Foreign Countries where My Glasses Now Live. There are two of them, that I can remember (I'm not discounting the possibility that I lost a pair in South Africa, but don't remember it), Croatia, and now, Costa Rica. In Croatia, I left them on top of a mountain because it was foggy and they weren't helping me see anyway. Also, I was distracted by the fact that my lunch, hard-boiled eggs, were actually not hard boiled (they were almost raw), and they were also shattered all over the inside of my pack.

In this case, my glasses (should you wish to pay your respects) now rest at the bottom of Samara Bay, on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica. Similarly to my experience in Croatia, I did not notice the exact moment when they separated from my body, but I know that it was while I was falling violently into large waves. Other people call this activity surfing, but I've always considered precision in language important.

Why I was surfing while wearing my glasses is a good question. I was wearing croakies at the time, but then again I regularly get into the shower while wearing my glasses, so who knows what I was thinking. Oh well. As some distant relative of mine once once said in reference to an engagement ring lost on the beach, it's only money. And pride in my competence. And then of course my ability to see over the rest of the vacation (this incident in question occurred on the second day of my trip). This was exacerbated by the fact that I had brought my contacts, but only the ones for my left eye, which has a stronger prescription than my right. Why I did this is even more mysterious than why I wore my glasses surfing in the first place. In any case, I managed just fine with my new eagle-like right eye.

In other ways, however, the trip was fantastic. I got much better at falling off of a surfboard, for example. In the beginning, I could only fall in one or two ways, but by the end, I had a wide repertoire of falling techniques. Also, I had a fantastic time with my girlfriend's father, sister, sister's boyfriend and his parents. It wasn't the group I normally spend Thanksgiving with, but they were great to hang out with.

Playa Samara is a pretty interesting place. It's a combination of a crumbling third world village, a swanky beach retreat, and a mecca for old drunken Canadian men. I think that about covers it.

The trip was great, but enough of my yammering. Here's some pictures: