So, uh, when can I go back?

A few helpful definitions before reading:

JerseyWow - Oldest Jersey sibling. Fellow female volleyball warrier. Fun Facilitator extrordinaire.

JerseySalsa - Younger Jersey sibling. Karaoke specialist, photographer, and pretty reliable server.

Obby - My brother. We also invented and named a sport after him called ObbyBall. Patent pending.

BMan - JerseyWow's person, and the most similar in athletic ability to my brother that I have ever witnessed.

London - Guy from London. Had the world's most awesome belt. And the world's most awesome quotes.

Heeeep Heeeep, SALSA, or AWWoWWWW: Our new favorite references to just about everything.

Welcome to the Iberostar Bavaro - where an orange wristband will get you whatever your heart desires, and Hurricane Tomas was NOT invited...

That was my scenic walk to the beach every day. Pretty spectacular, si? Si. Except for when it had rained. Then it was an episode of slip and slide, entertaining every grounds worker along the way.

Room 2662.

Such a great place to stay, and the site of a few memorable moments. A word to the wise, however: If you and your fellow night owl have a brilliant idea to wake Obby up at 4 AM to try to convince him that it is actually 7:30 and time to go to the gym, one should remember that it is still PITCH BLACK outside, and the object of your "prank" is actually mildly intelligent. He will not be fooled, even after 20 minutes of elaborate planning, teamwork, and self-congratulatory pats on the back.

The patio was a pretty sweet place to hang out, especially when I caught this little guy:

He was very cool, and changed colors, but he did not save me 15% or more on car insurance, so I released him back into the wild.

We soon discovered beach volleyball is a game with few language barriers, so we played twice a day...every day. Our newfound friends, the Jerseys and London, completed the volleyball ensemble. We spent most of our time doing:

Obby was probably setting the ball up for a ridiculous BMan kill. The beginnings of a lovely bromance.


Digging was my specialty, although I have to say that face I am making? Not effective at stopping sand from invading the respiratory system. Some people take sand from the beach back in a little souvenir bottle. Not me. I take it back in my lungs.



Once the sun went down, it was entertainment time! The lobby looks even more awesome in person, and also houses the best bathrooms ever. Each stall is like an individual room in itself. I wonder if they're available for rent if the hotel gets overbooked?

Santo (my favorite Star Friend) came up to me and said, "Where is your familia? I want Mom and Dad for the show." My reply? "Good luck, Santo. Hope you're willing to drag them up there." 10 minutes later, he comes to find me, with a drink coaster in his hand. It has my parents' names on it. "You need to know your parents a little better!" Santo, you were so right.

I give you, Couple Numero Dos!!!

SALSAAAA!

But oh, no. The family was not done entertaining for the evening. Did we hear....karaoke? JerseyWow and I took it upon ourselves to sign JerseySalsa and Obby up for a little performance action, and they basically rocked the house. JS brought a little Semi-Charmed Life to the Domincan Republic before Obby took things back to the time of Ice Ice Baby. Vanilla Ice has been busy filming VH1's "I Live In A House Full Of Has-Beens, Watch Me Throw Things," but his song lives on in infamy. And yes, Obby has his back to the lyrics, because he is a lyrical genius. They were not for his aid, but to show all the non-English speaking people just how darn FAST he was spouting out words. And they were impressed, they were very impressed.

No evening would be complete without a visit to the Disco, where American music would start around 11:30 and continue until 3AM. Fact. Don't doubt it, because JerseySalsa, London, and I (fondly known as Pittsburgh), shut the place DOOOWWWWN.

Right hand, tasty and delicious drink. Left hand, literally the ONLY glass of Mamajuana I had the entire week that tasted like liquid sulfur. Fortunately, JerseyWow and I had a wonderful trick to dispose of unwanted shots while fooling our adoring public into believing we were keeping up with them.

Also, this picture proves that, at one point, my bracelet DID in fact have stars on it. Later in the week, they disappeared never to be heard from again.

Back in the States, it is cold, bracelets do NOT get your free drinks, food, or golf cart rides, and I have no opportunity to do this:

Only picture of me acting like I belong anywhere near the volleyball net. HEEEEP HEEEEP!




But seriously, when do I go back?