remember that one time? oh wait. those two times.

this is the true story of a girl who landed back into lala land, after spending 4.5 days in new york and 5 days in puerto vallarta. this is the true story of a girl who came out of the week browner than ever, and with more to think about than originally intended, upon boarding that flight to jfk, onto nueva york.

it was an ideal business trip with the purest mix of training, learning system strategies, fun, partying, friends, and stories/memories to take along for the ride. living in brooklyn had never been so much fun with jd- hangin out in carol gardens and waiting for the F subway to take me out to rockefeller for 8 hours of work in the corporate headquarters. excellent. delicious even. i like to have fun - not make trouble. i have a really good memory too - unfortunately, so good, but fortunately, at the same time - so good - to remember, to recall, and to say out loud, " oh my gosh - did that seriously just happen? "

i surprise myself. sometimes in the early morning. not a dud, not a brotha, and definitely not a stranger - to say the least. but now, the repercussions - none. but now, gotta face the music and still, believe that i knew what i was doing. and i did. not bad...not bad. the aesthetics of it all - break it down one more time. confusion and the most healthiest mix of party dresses, basketball shorts, sweatshirts, and rainbows. streets of new york, don't worry about it. hop on one subway, make it to the next - just don't be late. make it happen, get it done, and have fun. looking around the subway, everyone has a story. no matter if it's 6:30 in the morning or if it's 11pm at night on a subway to max fish. no judgment there. get in the taxi and trust that the person right next to you knows exactly where you're going...walk straight. hold my hand. ditch the heels. it's time for another round...

get on a plane and recall the moments - NO those moments don't matter, they can't, and they shouldn't. what is the end? is there an end? it's time for crystal to cut it out and look to what's next...because what's next is no to the quantities - that's what they came up with in puerto. i'm not the scandalous one, i'm not pathetic, but the quantities speak for themselves. that's not saying a lot though. let's be real here.

puerto happened. pure R & R. lying by the pool, sleeping in for 12 hours, being deliciously and tastefully relaxed, while being filled with pico de gallo and nachos con carne. happy hour drinks - 2 for 1 - big giant cups - pina coladas, sex on the beach, mai tai, strawberry daquiri, get it done. and we did, and it was tasty. play around in the pool, listen to the ipod, think about life, and stop and think and come back to the moment...we are in PUERTO VALLARTA. it was much, much needed, and that quality roommate time, is what our house needed.

i did learn a few things though - relevant, irrelevant, stupid, and awesome - i love long islands and mojitos, and i will never drink long islands and mojitos the same, being spontaneous and just going with the flow of the night makes things that much more exciting come hours later, working in the company's headquarters is pretty awesome, even though you may think a moment is freaking sweet at the time, and it really is when you think about it afterwards, and afterwards, and recall it again, at the end of the day, it may still not have been the wisest decision, vacations are so much better when you're with your roommates, and pico de gallo is the best in puerto vallarta.

sometimes i wonder if i'm becoming exactly like my mom. that's not too bad, i guess...no extremely horrible decisions have been made yet. and i can dance a little better - kinda. but she does give me good stuff to work with. and THAT is the problem. maybe the answer is to just stop dancing. that's when all the problems begin...