29.12.07

absolute fucking chaos

i'm so tired i didn't sleep a wink last night. why? let me tell you the highly amusing, yet to be over story behind why i didn't sleep last night.

not last night but the night before, the water went out. someone told us the city had run out of water and the reservoir was slowly filling. i dunno where they got this. but everyone filled buckets of water from the pool for the toilets and hector and henry sat out there and watched as the pool slowly emptied. i couldn't have a shower, and not being able to have a shower in this climate makes me grumpy. especially since i usually have two a day here. so the next morning i woke up hopeful that i could have a shower, but there was still no water. 7 yr old andre next door let it slip that denato had not paid his water bill and that was why there was no water. this made a bit more sense than the city running out of water thing. especially since everyone else had water but our building. so i had to wait it out, sat at my computer and went to check my email. i'd just sent out over 6000 emails the night before, email marketing campaign (spam) and usually i get about a hundred responses from a mailing of 1000, not to mention all the auto-replies and bounce-back messages. i didn't get a single piece of mail. i was like, what the fuck? checked all my other work accounts and none of them had had mail since the 24th. so i got on the phone with my hosting company and tried to tell them what the problem was but the phone kept cutting out because it's voice over ip and relies on the internet and our internet is all but reliable. there is reliable cable internet here in playa but for some reason cablemas refuses to install in this building. i think it might have something to do with denato. so we have the shit internet that we paid $600 for installation and the guy, from oklahoma, promised us that our voice over IP phones would work. they don't. so i can't get hold of my hosting company because they can't hear me on the phone. my mom calls the internet company, playawireless, and mr. oklahoma is on vacation in veracruz (who the fuck vacations away from playa del carmen, to the city of veracruz, i dunno) but his secretary will get him a message. so then finally the water comes back on, and i am so desperate to do laundry because the sand here clings to clothes like velcro, so i throw a load in the washing machine and go to the beach. johan and magalis are with us, staying for 6 days. they are from switzerland, i met them with john in july. so i put off my shower cause i will need one after swimming in the ocean anyway. we are at the beach for two hours and i came home to try calling my hosting company again and i finally get through and they say they will look into it. then i go to put my laundry in the dryer, and it turns out the laundry machine is broken. i have to manually fill it with water for the rinse cycle and turn it to the rinse cycle and it finally finishes and i throw it in the dryer. and hour later johan, magalis, my mom and dad are back from the beach and i'm about to make dinner and go to light the oven and there's no gas. i'm just fuming at this point and we decide to go out for dinner instead. i want to have a shower before we leave and was waiting for my clothes to dry so i could change into clean clothes. i checked them in the dryer, and they were still as wet as they'd been when i put them in the dryer an hour earlier. so the dryer is broken too. i'm like what the fuck next? i go to take a shower and of course there's only cold water because there is no gas with which to heat the water. i'm shivering when i get out, get into my only clean clothes which is a pair of kahky pants on some giant shirt i usually only wear to bed. and it was a hot day, not a day for pants at all. whatever. we all go out for dinner and come back and get drunk on the beach and then i come home and we notice the water is off again. i just threw up my arms and said "the water, the email, the phones, the washer and the dryer, the gas, what's next? the electricity?" and sure enough, as i sat down to write this last night, the electricity went out all night and i couldn't sleep because it was too hot without the A/C and the fan.

so now we still have no water, no gas and our washer and dryer are broken and my email sill isnt working. it was one of those incredible days, just beyond belief.

meanwhile, my brother met and hung out with mike boogie from big brother in cancun. blah.

to just a girl from LA, doggy pics will come soon, i've had some issues with my camera.

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27.12.07

another reason to hate the colts

warning: don't use the service prisoncallsonline.com for your collect calls from loved ones in prison. i have been trying to contact them since i've been in mexico, about a month now and they still haven't responded. not even when i told them i was going to call visa and get all my money back. i'll be going with a new company, inmatephoneservices.com. they seem to have their shit together.

however, i hit a snag on christmas eve. i hit a magnificent snag. i'll tell you about the whole night, for your entertainment or lackthereof.

i made dinner for my family, snapper, spicy steamed veggies, rice and a chicken soup mexican style (corn and chili and lime in it, yum). we then went out to the beach where there were fireworks, then back to our pool where everyone and their dog was drinking. i talked football with somoene from san diego, met this other chick from vancouver. then chase and i met bobby & mike at coco maya, which is a giant club with 4 dance floors built right on top of the sand on the beach. the second i walked in this guy comes up to me and says, "please tell me you're not from new york" and i said "i'm not from new york" and then he said some other shit, it's getting foggy at this point and i'm just talking to him for a potential drink. turns out he was from indianapolis and i told him i don't like peyton manning because he has a funny face and he hugged me when i said i like the browns? i dunno, he was starting to irritate me and i made my way up to the bar to get myself a damned drink and he was following me asking me where i was from. so i told him and he didn't believe me i dont know why, and i offered to show him my ID and pulled out my wallet. he saw the ID and asked if i'd heard of saltspring island, of course i had, he said his brother in law was from there and he lived here in playa now with his sister. i was entirely fascinated at this point, about as fascinated as i get with a mosquito when it won't stop buzzing around my ear in bed at night.

he asked me if i found the mexicans rude. i said no, but i found a lot of gringos were. apparently he is unable to laugh at himself because he looked sort of wounded when i said that. then he told me the mexicans were rude to him and i just nodded, knowing full well they were rude to him because he was rude to them. some tourists just have this demanding way about them, you know? i don't think they always realize they are being rude but they are. when they want everything to be like it is at home, everything in english and promptly and cooked the same way, mixed the same way, etc. i find myself doing it at times. but that's when the mexicans are rude, when you act like a gringo. sometimes you just have to be more laid back and not be in such a rush. it's difficult, but it's nice.

anyway, luckily at that point i saw bobby walk by and yelled at him and he came over and i introduced the guy to bobby, told him he was my brother and the guy was like, ahh, nice to meet you man, and took off so fast. the whole time i'd been standing at the bar waiting for a drink and the bartender never got to me so i was like fuck this place and got chase and we went to a karaoke bar instead. at the karaoke bar chase owed me a beer cause i'd bought her one earlier when we left to go out, so she bought me one and we sat down and sang some karaoke. when i finished my beer it was like 5am so i told chase i have to boot cause we have family shit in the morning. we left and were walking back and i stopped by this taco stand for a taco and reached in my bag and my wallet was gone. i was so drunk and so fucking hungry that i paid for the tacos in change and went and found chase, told her.

we headed back to coco maya cause i know it was that asshole from indianapolis because i had pulled out my wallet, he made some comment about me being a rich girl, was eyeing the fucking wallet all night and then took off so fast when i introduced him to bobby. i get there and the bouncer is gone and in his place is a midget in a 3 piece black and white striped suit, like thick stripes, not pinstripes, a black hat and i think he had a cane. i did a double take and then asked him about my wallet if anyone had turned one in, etc. so he takes off running through the place asking this guy and that guy and i'm trying to follow him through the thick crowds dancing on the dance floors, the strobe lights and smoke from smoke machines, pounding techno music. i keep catching glimpses of black and white stripes and follow in that direction and he's not there, then i see black and white stripes, streaking through the crowd again and follow him again and he's not there, and over and over until i felt like the whole night had been written by lewis carroll and my brain was spinning, full of tequila and coronas and sols. and then the midget finally emerges from the chaos and says "no tengo" and shows me his empty hands and i felt like crying, grabbed chase and walked home.

so the snag, is that my credit card has been canceled because it was stolen by some lunatic colts fan. and my bank cards are gone, my ID, pictures of mike, the ID card mike sent me a while back was in there. a letter on a half piece of paper mike wrote me was in there, pics of my family, carrie, all my frequent flyer cards. so the new phone company requires credit card payments. i can have my card replaced but it's a business card so i have to go to the branch to pick it up. they don't send them out. thank god i wasnt carrying my passport. i'm pretty choked. more about the personal stuff than the money. there was $110 bucks in there, too. some dickhead has probably just thrown away a pile of shit that meant something to me. that totally sucks. fuck indianapolis.

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22.12.07

goodbye cruel autumn

wow, this has been a wicked fall. filled with funerals and memorials and trials and moving. and as of yesterday, the bitch is gone. goodbye cruel fall! now the days get longer (although they already had started to for me because i'm in playa del carmen), the sun will get hotter, the tan will get deeper and the refreshing quality of a chelada in the afternoon will grow more intense.

sometime next week i'm getting a tattoo for ashleigh done by screamink tattoo. i'll post pics when it's done. i guess it'll be kind of like closure for me. it's been really hard dealing with this from so far away, not being able to attend the memorial and such. a good friend videotaped most of it for me and i haven't been brave enough to watch it yet. it was weird, because the first few days i knew of her death i just had no reaction. it wasn't until i looked through all the pictures i had of her and posted them on facebook, that it really hit me and since then it's just been so hard. i mean, for the past year i've had little patience for her, except when she asked me for help, i was there without another moment's thought, but otherwise, i was really tired of her shit. i just didn't want to see her hurt herself. so i was still kind of in that mode, and it took a few days to crack it. then it was like a few days of complete misery, and now i finally seem to be alright.

one thing that continues to bother me though, is the shit i've been seeing all over the internet. people acting as though it's any of their fucking business whatsoever if she died. why? because when she was a kid she played chrissy in now and then? there are filthy stories about her everywhere, i can't repeat half of it. in one place, someone had posted that she was fucked up because she loved tattoos and piercings? who the fuck came up with that, the mormon portion of ashleigh's fans? or maybe the jehova's witnesses? yeah, she loved tattoos, and though some of them were strange, they made her ashleigh. and i fucking love tattoos too!

now as far as this whole fucking thing being a hoax? do you know what that does to a person who's chest is caving in from the sadness of having lost her? if only it was a hoax! what the fuck kind of human being would make up a hoax like that? to whomever decided it would be funny to make that up: karma is a bitch, motherfucker, better keep a close watch on your loved one's pulses. heaven fucking forbid you ever have to lose anyone and know how this feels.

i can tell everyone that ashleigh is dead without the shadow of a doubt, we have official confirmation, not to mention the viewing on monday attended by close friends and family, which i personally did not go to because i live in mexico now, but many of my friends did and told me about it. she is gone, accept it.

so if you all feel the need to sit around and talk shit about someone you didn't know in the face of her family and friends suffering, i feel sorry for you. how terribly empty your life must be that you have to cling to the child character in a movie that fucking sucked. ashleigh thought it sucked, most of her friends thought it sucked, and half the world thinks it sucks, so get the fuck over it. go watch a real movie and stop going on and on about "Chrissy" who, in fact, was nothing like the real ashleigh whatsoever. it's called acting, you assholes.

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15.12.07

Ashleigh Aston-Moore

I've been waiting on this for a few days because I'm not even sure what to say. I lost a good friend this week to heroin. In reality, I lost her to it a year ago, and have missed her terribly since then. I always had this feeling though, this hope, that maybe one day she would get her shit together and I would have my friend back. Instead she died.

Ashleigh was fucking infuriating. There were so many things that drove me up the wall with her, over and over and over again, not the least of which was waiting 90 years for her to get ready every time we went out.

But even though I got a lot of flack from a lot of people, people telling me she was this or that and I didn't know what I was getting myself into, I still became inseparable with her for a long time.

If you go back to some of the posts from 2005, 2006, you'll find some posts about her. Some of the shit we did, including tim horton's hopping for the five finger discount at 3am under the guise of a clam chowder hunt, running around drunk in our pajamas in the rain in the middle of squamish looking for a fat white buddhist to unlock our hotel room door, garage sale shopping with propel vitamin water and a huge hangover buying the craziest shit for the superhouse like the cooper basketball challenge and the weight lifting set which was like 9 billion tons but we somehow managed to get it in her truck, stealing literally all the front desk decorations from the ricky's diner down the street one morning in a hungover stupor, including the "We'd be pleased to seat you" sign that sits to this day on the back of the 3house toilet, making up characters and their background and acting as though we were them at karaoke at bb's one night. she was amelia from england. i forget who i was, obviously her character outshone mine. i remember one night she was whining so much about wanting to be massaged by a guy so bad, that i finally posted a wanted ad on craigslist that had us in stitches, but i can't remember what i wrote. then when she snuck my monte carlo out one day while i was working and had a stereo installed in it. planning her 25th birthday at chuck e cheese, complete with limo and surprising her with patent red leather chuck taylors. natasha had to keep the secret of where we were going and let it slip 3 seconds before we got there. haha.

I don't wish to write about the last time I saw her. It saddened me beyond words.

I miss you so fucking much Ashleigh. Fuck.


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11.12.07

trap doors and spiders and frogs, oh my!

i am completely overjoyed at the fact that my only worry presently is how to ignore the sound of the luke warm salty waves crashing all sparkly like in the sun just a few feet from here, long enough to get enough work done to justify getting paid. even though it is probably the most difficult exercise in self-discipline i have ever undergone. i make myself wait, and work and work and wait until i just can't handle it anymore and then i go down there for an hour or so, read a little in the sun and bob up and down in the waves. i was covered in sand when i got back cause it was so windy. sand in my eyes too, which isn't pleasant when you're wearing contacts.

i found out today that the maid's room in the back of the apartment has a secret passageway to the street! this place is built like it's carved into rock, there are all these nooks and crannies and i discover something new everyday, but that maid's room takes the cake. it's behind the laundry room, which is behind the kitchen and the roof in there is literally about 4 ft high, you have to crouch to get into the bed and then crawl over the bed to get to the other end of the room where there is a trap door in the floor and when you open the trap door there are stairs going down to the street. how fucked up is that? and then behind the bed there is a bathroom i had no idea existed! wtf? i feel like i live in the lion the witch and the wardrobe books, fuckin' narnia. for real. and tonight a frog was hopping around the living room while i was watching the saints ravens game, (dull) and i dunno where the fucker came from. i mean clearly there's access for small things to get in from outside, but where? and how the fuck do i find it so next time whatever gets in doesn't have 8 legs? because two days ago my brother saw a dead eight-legger and took a picture of it with his foot in the shot for size purposes and the fucker was bigger than his foot. and my brother is no small dude.

mexican wonders will never cease. good night.

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10.12.07

the shark, the dolphin and the browns

there's a gecko running around my room. they chirp like birds. fuckin weird if you ask me. better than the resident iguana rocky likes to chase every morning. have you ever seen one of those things run? i can't walk for laughing every time i see it. it's just simply absurd. one of those things in nature that just shouldn't be. iguanas running. what the fuck.

i got up really early yesterday to take my folks to cozumel. on the way to the ferry my dad's lugging around his bag of snorkel gear and some guy yells out, "señor, you going snorkeling?" and my dad says no, so the guy asks why he's carrying his mask and fins and my dad points to my mom and says, "to smack the wife!!" haha.

we got on the ferry and this mexican guy comes along selling a snorkel tour and my dad wasn't interested, and he was in one of his goofy moods and when my dad is in one of his goofy moods, there is no one he won't talk to, and that usually means he's fucking with them in some way or another. so my dad says to this guy, "no inglés" and the guy starts his whole schpiel over again in spanish and when he's done my dad says, "no, gracias" and they both just crack up. my dad knows like maybe 6 words in spanish and somehow he managed to convince this guy he was fluent. fucking hilarious.

once we're on cozumel, it's ten bucks to corona beach which is a cluster of plastic tables on a little coral plateau, away from anything else at all, where natural coral steps lead the way to snorkeling. i was swimming alongside my mom and saw a fucking shark about 4 ft long maybe 20 meters in front of us. i shrieked sort of and was like, "mom, mom, look!" and she looked and didn't see, and again i pointed and she still didn't see, pointed again and finally her eyes grew wide and she says, "let's go! now! go!" and i never saw her swim so fast. fucking insane, it wasn't like in thailand when bobby saw the shark and told me to boot it and i never looked back, it was like i looked this fucker in the eyes for 3 minutes right directly in front of me and my body was shaking with adrenaline and i didn't let myself leave because i was so fascinated. stupid maybe but dozens of people were snorkeling around there all day and noone seemed to get hurt by this shark so i guess he was well fed, didn't need to taste the humans for a belly full of fishies. i was fucking enchanted. a shark. fucking beautiful. then as we sat at the tables and dried off before our next stop, we saw a pod of dolphins swim by, leaping out of the water. i kept text messaging my brother. bobby is absolutely obsessed with sharks and dolphins more so than anything in the world. he reads incessantly about sharks, the different types and which are most dangerous, their migration patterns, diet, etc. he knows more about sharks than i think sharks do. so i texted him when i saw the shark and he called me and was like, "what the fuck, you saw a shark?" and i told him all about it. then when i saw the dolphins i texted him again and he called again and he was so disappointed he didn't come with us. he spends half his life in the water studying to become a dive instructor, and has wanted so badly nothing more than to see a shark and dolphins in the wild up close.

we left corona beach and went to the first town ever on cozumel, called cedral. i was there before in the summer with john. it's a cool little town with some mayan ruins and this tiny little church doused in flowers in the middle of it. my mom stood outside the church and asked if we were allowed in and i said, quite seriously actually, "of course, god welcomes all" and she laughed. after cedral we went back to where the ferries leave cozumel and waited for the next ferry at a restaurant and i met a tattoo artist and chatted him up a bit. he had the most beautiful portrait tatt on his chest, so impressive. like kat von d good.

i spent all day watching football and the browns won and we're happy the browns won and now it's bed time. beunos noches.

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7.12.07

coloso

i went to the mexican side of town today, coloso, out of curiosity. it was different. dusty, poorly paved roads, if paved at all, run down metal shacks behind wrought iron fences and make-shift this and that, babies crying in bicycle baskets and mexican music playing everywhere. it was so dirty and poor and sad. i much prefer the other side of town, the dreadlocked birkenstocked holier-than-thou psuedo existentialists, ex-pats from canada, usa, england, france, italy, australia. you know the type who grab the hot sauce bottle and only pretend to pour some on their food so everyone around thinks they like spicy food? the type who announce loudly in public that they would prefer hanging out in the poor old shanty town to the north than mingle with the western ex-pats in the south, but once they're behind closed doors they admit to only feeling comfortable amongst whitey? inflexible yoga enthusiasts, meat-eating buddhists, pasty rastafarians, walking, talking oxymorons. i do. i prefer the south side of town because i can wholeheartedly make fun of these people with a conscienceless ease. the mexican side of town, i admit i only wish i could feel comfortable in, because even though these people seem to have so little, they're all smiling. i dunno if it's just saving face or what, but i guess if i were them, i would at least hope that i would opt for a smile over a frown so i could enjoy myself in some form. a good friend said it best, when you've lost everything, suddenly you find yourself appreciating the smallest things. makes sense i guess. especially if you never had anything to begin with.

i bought a horchata,  a cinnamon rice milk drink ladled from huge vats of ice on street carts, sat on the curb and watched everyone do their thing for a while. nothing but shoes stores, hair salons and tamale stands. i got tired of looking at stray dogs and rode my bike a half an hour back to the south side of town, to the post office to drop off yesterday's letter to mike and then 15 minutes home. in the middle of the day, this close to the equator, that's a lot of sweating. i locked my bike to the front gate of the building and sprinted to the ocean, right in, i soaked until i felt cool finally.

out to dinner at bip-bip's for delicious quesadillas and cheladas. the caesar salad left a bit to be desired. too many anchovies, very fishy.

off to cozumel tomorrow, must sleep!

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tarjetas y apartados postales

i went to the post office today. that was a chore and a half. first of all, there are no post boxes anywhere in playa but the post office and there is only one post office in playa. i rode my bike there today after dropping off my laundry at la lavenderia called "spidy gonzales". it's all the way down on avenida juarez which is near the ferries to cozumel, like 15 minutes by bike. i wanted to send a letter to mike and a postcard to friends back home. i figured they would have postcards at the post office. not so much. i saw they had none and turned around and went back to a souvy store to pick one up, wrote it out and then headed back to the post office. there were two people in front of me in line and when i got there, the chick right in front of me starts laughing and says that i shouldn't stay unless i have a couple of hours to spare. turns out she'd been in line for an hour and a half already and the couple from england in front of her were there for two hours and they still hadn't been helped. 3 guys were working there, all of whom were chatting on cell phones, and one fell asleep against a parcel in the back while on his phone (not unlike the vivid picture mike painted for me on the phone of the mexican postal worker asleep on a donkey). finally the couple gets helped and it turns out the parcel they're sending home was wrapped entirely wrong and they had to re-wrap it in yellow construction paper and use glue to seal it, not tape. they were then given 70, count them, 70 stamps to affix to this parcel and the lineup grew as we waited for them to add them to the box one by one. they kept turning around and apologizing to us. when i finally got my turn i asked for 20 stamps so i don't have to wait in line like that again for a while. it was utterly absurd. but in a way, kind of fun, cause all of us in line introduced ourselves to each other and had a good hour of laughter at the incredible lack of urgency the postal workers had. then i rode home 15 minutes in the heat of the mayan afternoon and had to jump in the ocean i was so hot from sitting in that fanless post office. all for michael m'boy, all for mike. it's funny now because i have vowed to myself i would send him many more letters like i used to, now that i have interesting things to write about and am not a ball of stress and madness. so that means an almost daily trip to the post office, 30 mins round trip every day in the sun and then an absolutely inescapable swim in the ocean due to heat, i shall be in spectacular shape in no time.

on the way to the post office, i had to stop at the bank. there was an american woman in there. she was so rude, so loud yelling at the teller "what is the exchange rate?" which was posted on all four walls twice. she then yelled so the bank could hear "i want this all on a piece of paper, with the amounts" and when they handed her the receipt she yelled "i can't understand this, i speak english". if she wasn't the scariest woman i ever saw and i wasn't sure she could kick my ass just by thinking about it, i would have said, "sweetheart, why are you in mexico then?" seriously. i don't understand why some people think that no matter where in the world we go, everyone should speak english. what a dull planet this would be, hey? funny thing is, it's only canadians and americans, and sometimes aussies, who are like that. you never see a swedish man lose it on a mexican for not speaking swedish, or a german lose it on a chinese guy for not speaking german. it's only our kind. it makes me sad. i wish we could all just present ourselves a little better to the rest of the world.

prior to the very sad, pathetic mollywhoppage the bears suffered, i had to go back to spidy gonzales' to pick up my laundry and i grabbed a slice of pizza at the pizza place beside it. i came home and sat by the pool and ate the pizza and the cops came around. denado and marcella had gone upstairs for their afternoon siesta, and they are usually up there for at least an hour each day, but ten mins after they'd gone up they ran down and were speaking with the cops for hours, marcella running around grabbing this, fetching that. i often wonder what shady business denado is into. you don't get a private jet and personal pilot from running a tiny apartment building and italian restaurant in playa del carmen. not to mention his private villa and beach a couple miles north of here. thats definitely shady. definitely.

it was simply too much tonight when the announcer on the nfl network said about maynard as he hobbled off the field, "he's got a bit of a hitch in his giddy up". just too much. i can't stop giggling to myself about it. what a shit game. i mean, in a way it was nice for the redskins cause they lost sean taylor then their fuckin qb gets mangled, but my god what have the bears become? bobby says it's the superbowl hangover. for the last 8 years every team that lost the superbowl shits the bed the following season. i dunno. i'm tired now and i seem to have developed a cough so off to bed with me.


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5.12.07

problemas computadoras

i slept in today to get rid of my cold and spent the morning reinstalling everything on mi computadora porque it did not survive the flight unscathed. luckily i backed everything up. i set it up in spanish though, to make myself think in spanish, work in spanish, chat in spanish. i will be fluent soon. i guarantee it. it's incredible how much has come back to me already. it's been like 7 years since i took two years of it in college.

so i set everything up to install and then went to mamitas beach club which is a few minutes down the beach from my beach and just a giant clusterfuck of tequila, americans and bad house music chased by a few well-paid mexican "hosts" trying to entice the ladies to take off their bikini tops. i sat and read american gods by neil gaiman and hopped in the water twice, the first time i've gotten in since i got to mexico. it's been cloudy and today it was hot, and i got some color and now i look like a raccoon because i was wearing my gucci sunnies all day, but i figure, when you have gucci sunnies, you must wear them to make every cent worthwhile. as i ran back in from swimming the first time, my cell was ringing and it was becky wanting to tell me how much she loves the movie superbad, again. i told her i was sitting on the beach watching all the hot men romp in speedos and low-hanging board shorts, hung up, went for another swim and then walked home.

i had to go to office depot today to buy a computer chair because the one i had was fucking up my back sitting there so long. the cabs are so cheap. 2 bucks each way and it was a 10 minute ride each way. i had to put the chair together with a butter knife because i don't have any screwdrivers yet. whoops. it worked anyway. and the chair is pretty sweet. i can sit cross-legged on it, and that's all that matters.

after dinner i headed over to bobby's where he, henniger and their local friend roberto were pre-drinking for a night out at the clubs. i had a fresca and sat with bobby, henniger and roberto while they drank. roberto was hilarious, just mumbling nonsense incessantly and bobby just keeps saying, "bert, you're talking again" in a cautionary voice. hilarious.

so now i am home and sober and sick and typing, and cursing mozzies, i have eleven mozzy bites. my allergic reaction has ceased, my skin is healing and now i am covered in mozzy bites? i can't win. it's 3am and i can't sleep for the itchiness. fhgwgads.


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4.12.07

soy hoy enferma

i woke up and i was sick this morning! what the fuck is that? probably just all the stress up til now taking it's toll. it was cloudy but nose still got a little pink from reading on the beach this afternoon. i met a guy from toronto today, kevin, who took me to the cell place and translated for me. yeah. i'm not as fluent as i thought. apparently cell phone plan jargon eludes me en español. he kept asking why i needed to be able to get incoming calls from the US if i am from canada and i just told him there was someone pretty fucking spectacular there who i am hoping to hear from. he's married to the woman upstairs who has two kids from a previous marriage, patty and ashley, and they are so fucking cute. they sang "la cucaracha" for me today and i about choked on the cuteness it was so thick.

i have discovered the most useful phrase in spanish is "como se dice....?" i am also having tremendous trouble adapting to the laid back lifestyle. i mean it's ultimately what i came for next to the beach and weather, but it's so difficult to just adapt. everyone is always late, there's reality and then there's mexico time. it's wonderful because everyone is so relaxed and chilled but at the same time, it makes it hard to plan your day. tomorrow i go in search of a post office and a printer. it should be an ordeal. but at least i can retire to the beach with a book with the rest of the town. yes, people actually read here. you know how long it's been since i've known people in person who read? who i can recommend books to? fuck, kevin'd read half the books i brought! i dunno, the pace here is beautiful but way different.

i cooked tonight for my parents, i marinated chicken legs in valentina sauce, lime juice, salt and pepper and slow roasted them to a stunning perfection in the gas oven (back home i had electric, this is luxurious for me), then i sauteed green tomatoes with chipotle peppers, and added it to pan fried fingerling potatoes. i fucking rule. it was the bomb. though i couldn't eat much, it's hard to eat very much at all in this heat. today was relatively chilly but compared to vancouver it's fucking hot.

there isn't much that could make thing better here for me right now, but one of those things, without a doubt, is hearing from mike. that oughtta be a project.

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vivo en mexico

the day i left it was snowing, the airport was a sheet of ice. I went to carri'es for drinks, saw scott for a goodbye hug, finally got home around 1am and had to leave for the airport at 4am, so i just sat around and stared at shit. i didn't have a computer or a bedroom or anything to actually do. so i just kinda sat there and freaked out about rocky on the plane. i was so worried about it. by the time it was time to go i'd gotten myself pretty worked up. and it had snowed all day and all night and it took extra time to get to the airport because it never snows in vancouver. ever. so we don't have the infrastructure in place to deal with snowfall swiftly on the odd occasion it does occur. very few salt trucks, plows, etc.so a ten minute drive to the airport turned into a 40 minute ordeal. i just got more nervous.

when i had to check rocky in at the ticket counter, and my computer and 3 bags, i finally started to calm down because i was so freaked out that when i took rocky out of his crate he would bark at the ramp guys and i wouldn't be able to get him back in, but he didn't even squeak and when he resisted getting back in his crate i just lifted him and he got in and was fine. not a sound, nothing. just "mom, are you fucking serious?" big brown puppy eyes that melted me. but i let them take him right away so i didn't have to think about it at all until i got to cancun.

on the plane i sat next to this family of four from port alberni which is in the middle of vancouver island and is populated by about 12 people. they annoyed the fuck out of me. when the flight attendant passed around the immigration forms for mexico, being as they'd already spent two hours chatting me up and knew i was moving there, had been there before, had my dog in cargo, etc. they asked for my help with them. so mrs. dumbass says to me, "i was born in ontario so should i put that as my country of birth?" followed by "it's asking for my passport number, should i put down my passport number?" and then finally, i kid you not, "date of birth... hmmmm, should i put today's date?" and i was so close to saying, "based on your iq i'd say yes". and mr. dumbass is just sitting there, mouth shut and i know a small part of him is dying inside after each stupid dumbfuck question. i was so tired cause i hadn't slept all night and every fucking time i fell asleep she poked me and asked if wanted a drink, a piece of gum, headphones. and they wonder why people lose it in the air, what do they call it? air rage? it's because of little miss alberni and clan. although she wasn't so little. her ass was bigger than my entire body. when i asked them where they were staying they said "the mayan riviera" yuh. um. that's a couple hundred miles long, losers. any specific place or were you just going to stop for the night when the old rucksack starts feeling extra heavy? yeah? fuck. when the plane was landing it took forever it seemed. i was chanting in my head, land land land land land now now now now now, must. escape. redneck. canadians. now.

when i got off the plane and went through customs i got the same chick as the last time i came here. i waited for so long for rocky i was freaking out but then he came down the baggage belt and as he went around the loop everyone turned and said "awww" and this guy helped me lift him off the belt and he was so happy to see me his tail was smacking against the inside of his crate so loud it was echoing throughout the whole baggage claim area. then i was pushing out the crate with rocky in it and a luggage cart with my computer, 3 bags and my carry on and it was near impossible. these two really nice guys came to my rescue and helped me out with my shit and they didn't let me carry a single thing. i found it was really easy to get attention when you have a massive crate with a husky/rotty cross in it who just flew into mexico from canada. walking through the airport everyone was looking at the crate yelling, "rocky!" because he was labeled. i got outside and my folks were there with marcella (their neighbor) and her son franco who is 9. she'd brought her mercedes suv so we got to ride home in style. but first i let rocky out of his crate and he went nuts, bouncing off everyone tail wagging so fast. it was awesome. i was so fucking happy at that point all my worries were done. that always fucking happens you know, the things i worry about so much always end up fine and i feel like i just wasted so much time worrying about them. but whatever. hindsight.

so then we drove to playa del carmen which is about an hour from cancun and i got in at about 7pm as the steelers were playing and found out the fucking browns lost??!!? what the fuck is that all about? i swear, when i watch they win, when i can't watch, they lose. the only reason they got brady quinn in the draft? because i was watching. it's true, we can't fight it anymore. the browns entire season rests square on my shoulders. it's a heavy load to bare but i've accepted it and will be more careful from now on. anyway. i had to get drunk after finding out the browns and the bears lost and hester didn't do anything. usually i can at least count on hester when the rest of any sunday sucks, but nope. so i drank a million cheladas which are beers with lime and salt in it and they go down like juice, fucking delicious. my brother, folks and i went down to the restaurant that my building is attached to and my family has already become pretty close with the owners of the restaurant who also own the building, marcella and denado. denado is italian and like 51 and marcella is about 25 and they have a kid. igggg. but yeah when we went into the restaurant they served us these things, pequeños diablos, which were pulled seasoned pork and peppers wrapped in tiny tortillas. so fucking good. for free, then he served us ciabatta bread with balsamic vinegar and extra virgin olive oil to dip. then more cheladas. the whole time it seemed like this steady stream of people coming to the table to meet me, "i've heard so much about you, nice to meet you" etc. apparently it's all my mom could talk about for the last six months. me.

so denado has a private jet and has invited us all to go to costa rica and honduras for vacation in march. i dunno. what the fuck? my folks are in with the fuckin italians. into the mob with bob, i am down for free private jet rides to costa fuckin rica.

anyway. we'll see if that pans out. in the meantime, i came home, grabbed rocky and walked him down to the beach where he pawed the water slightly and then we ran back, i crashed in my uber comfy bed with my a/c blasting and my fluffy dog next to me with sand on his paws smelling like the sea and i felt so fucking perfectly good for the first time in a few months and i woke up to my mom having bought me fresh orange juice and oaxaca cheese which is my favorite cheese in all the world and if you can even find it in canada it's like a billion dollars. i spent today shopping for bits of furniture i'm missing, like a decent desk and end table. i rode my bike to the store tonight to get some ice for cheladas and i was actually chilly and when i walked rocky to the beach i had to wear a hoodie. go figger. at least it ain't snowing, right?




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