What Am I Doing In Mexico?

Que Vaya Bien

2010-02-23T07:00:00.010-06:00

Please forgive my poetry, I know it's gauche to rhyme,
But I'm knee-deep in suitcases and running out of time.

I thought a poem'd be a nice tribute to end my blog
But then I got distracted and wrote a post for my dog.

So now this poem's not exactly what I had in mind,
I tried to hit the highlights and thought it'd be nice to find

Old posts to link to each stanza but, seriously? Uh, no.
So, now, without further ado, my Ode to Mexico:

I arrived in Mexico with my father by my side
My life back home was all packed up and I'd said my goodbyes.

I'd left Chicago mid-blizzard and marveled at the heat
It was even be warm enough to sleep without a sheet.

My eyes grew ever wider as I took in my new town,
I got out of the car and my whole world flipped upside-down.

Thirteen in-laws surrounded me with fourteen kids in tow,
But sadly not the mother-in-law who I barely got to know.

My breath came quick as my new family embraced me to their heart,
And they welcomed this pasty gringa without a second thought.

Despite the culture shock I tried my best to get along
And joined my sisters in the kitchen, pretending I belonged.

The water didn't take too long to get accustomed to,
You drink from bottles otherwise your tummy says "oh poo".

I quickly learned to bathe without a shower or tub,
I woke up to my first earthquake that made the locals shrug.

Ibis got food poisoning and we rushed to the ER,
I got stung by a jellyfish that left a three-inch scar.

A local dog that Ibis had adopted as his own
Was poisoned by a neighbor and we knew it was time to go.

We moved to Zihuatanejo, a fishing village on the coast
And jumped for joy at the running water (the thing I'd missed the most).

Little things about this place were different from back home
And each day brought surprises that we never could have known.

The helicopters overhead, machine guns in the street,
Their presence meant to reassure but making my heart beat.

The paper guys shouting 'bout the latest beheadings,
Music drifting through the air from the neighbors' weddings.

The lions that they drag through town to advertise the circus,
Megaphones on top of cars to announce things sure to shock us.

Some things seemed more natural than anything back home
And the relaxed nature soon seemed like the only thing I'd known.

Sure, I had my moments when I'd wish things weren't so slow,
But then I'd watch the sunrise and be glad I had nowhere to go.

In Mexico it's assumed that you'll be an hour or two late,
But no one gets upset—you kiss hello and grab a plate.

A funny thing is that most Mexicans are really short,
And for the first time in my life I'm considered average, not a dwarf.

I discovered that my DC driving skills prepared me well,
I can be speedracer and no one yells to go to hell.

On weekends the hotels put on cool fireworks displays
That we watch from our living room while wearing our pjs.

And then there's Owen—how could I not mention our little pup,
Who came into our lives the day we lost the King of Pop.

He filled a void that I was sure might never be replaced
And brought a joy into our lives that'll never be erased.

Despite this newfound happiness I still felt at a loss
And longed to live where I could rediscover my purpose.

I made a choice that's proved to be the hardest in my life—
I'm leaving Mexico without him whom makes me a wife.

Over the past month I've really tried to appreciate this town
And soak in all the things I'll miss when I am not around:

The trickling sound the cobblestones make when you drive atop the bricks,
Being surprised when I look outside and see a giant ship.

The fruit, the bread, the cheese, the fish,
The fish. Did I mention the fish?

The molé enchiladadas that my husband makes so well,
The frozen-fruit paletas you have to inhale before they melt.

Sunday nights in the plaza when we run into our friends,
That quiet calm in the evening when the music finally ends.

The early mornings as the sun's rays stretch across the sky,
The lazy days spent lounging in a hammock with my guy.

For he's the thing I'll miss the most when I say adios,
I have no words… right now this is the way our story goes.

Adios... Thank you for sharing this journey with me.

Never Say Goodbye 'til It's Closing Time

2010-02-22T07:00:00.003-06:00

Yes, I have a medley of farewell songs running through my head. I'd also forgotten how exhausting it is to say goodbye to everyone, and I hardly even know anyone here. In Chicago I had a full week of goodbye parties and I still didn't get to see a couple people. So far there aren't any welcome back parties planned, but I'm sure something can be arranged...

Anyway, saying goodbye sucks. I'm sure most of you have moved at some point in your life and I hate that niggling feeling that I'm forgetting something or someone. We saw Ibis' entire family yesterday -- that was bittersweet, to say the least, although seeing my baby niece with a mohawk more than made up for that -- and there's only one person left that I'd still like to track down before I go.

Today I ship my computer and let's not even talk about how freaked out I am about that. The DHL store here doesn't sell boxes large enough for my iMac, so Ibis fashioned a box out of cardboard and foam that will hopefully keep my baby intact. I am planning to insure it, and really, beyond that there's nothing I can do so I'll just try not to think about it.

I have a final post scheduled for tomorrow, but in the meantime, I have an essay up at a new blog, An Army of Ermas. I'm one of nearly two dozen contributors and so far we seem to have quite a variety of stories.

HOW is it FRIDAY?

2010-02-19T07:00:00.002-06:00

That means I'm leaving in FOUR DAYS. FOUR. Ninety-six hours. (You don't want to know how many fingers and calculators were used to figure that out.) I've knocked a couple more things of my list of things to do once more before I leave. Among them:

I saw circus animals.

Watched ANOTHER piece fall off the car.

Ate the fabulous, yet slightly dangerous due to their proximity to the police station, tacos.

Ate a giant Hershey's kiss (okay, maybe that wasn't on the list but HELLO!).

Admired yet another gorgeous sunrise.

And played with my puppy (okay, that's definitely not on the list, but look at that face! Or those eyes since he's really fricking close to the camera! [yes, he licked the camera]).

Shockingly, I accomplished A LOT in the past couple days and my to-do list is shrinking much faster than I thought it would. This means that I'm dreading the flight even more because SOMETHING will go wrong and if it's not in the planning, it will be the actual trip. Maybe I should pack a bikini for Owen in case he ends up in the Caribbean.

I Believe This is What They Refer to As "Coming Full Circle"

2010-02-17T07:00:00.001-06:00

When I was in Chicago preparing to move to Mexico, I had a small stroke of luck: my employer switched health insurance. This may not seem like a big deal, but as a woman facing a move to a country with uncertain medical standards, the opportunity to squeeze in all my doctors appointments even though it'd been less than a year since I'd last seen these doctors was HUGE.

I discovered an eye infection and a cavity, both easily fixed. On my last day of work I returned to the office after a final lunch with the girls and someone called out that my doctor had called while I was out. I knew she was planning to call with my test results (she knew I was moving) so I hurried to my desk to return her call.

My stomach dropped with her first words:

"I had a bad feeling when you told me you were leaving the country that there would be a problem."

Just what a girl likes to hear before moving to a country with uncertain medical standards. I had a going-away party planned for that night (my fourth that week) but I asked if there was any way she could see me since my insurance ended THAT DAY.

She said no, then kindly assured me that the tests I needed were very common and I shouldn't have a problem finding a doctor to perform them. She spelled out everything I needed & what the exact procedures were, then offered to stay in contact via email (which she did for a couple months).

And with that, I moved to Mexico.

I found a doctor within a week and thus began what ended up being one of my closest relationships in Zihua. In the three years I've been here I think I've seen this doctor at LEAST twenty or thirty times. Probably more. (and that's just off the top of my head.) I can't tell you how many times we've be thankful that we ARE in Mexico because even though I don't have insurance, the average visit costs 300-500 pesos, roughly $25-40 US. Sure, US co-pays are less, but I'm not paying a monthly deductible.

Anyway, over the past three years I've had countless exams, one biopsy, two minor procedures and one major procedure. Each time I go back for a follow-up, she's found something new. To say this has been frustrating would be an understatement, but at least now I speak Spanish well enough to go on my own. Ibis had act as my translator on those first few visits and he wasn't always as helpful as I'd have liked. Not to mention the doctor viewed me as a delicate American. Once I ditched him, my relationship with the doctor grew.

I wasn't due to see her again until the end of March, but when I decided to return to Michigan I scheduled an appointment at the beginning of February. On Monday Ibis and I went to get my results (they don't mail or call here) and she greeted us with a smile.

"You're fine."

"Everything is okay?"

"Yes. You're healthy."

It didn't seem real. After three years, visiting her on average every other month and CONSTANTLY getting more bad news, I didn't quite believe her. Ibis even asked her again to make sure.

I'll have to find a new doctor and schedule an appointment in another six months, but that's so much better than "fill out this prescription and come see me again in two weeks."

I keep feeling like she's going to call and tell me there was a mistake -- THAT would be fitting for the way things seem to go for me -- but for now I'm trying to focus on the fact that I'm healthy.

Another "Last" and a Beginning

2010-02-15T07:00:00.001-06:00

Remember my post last week where I was all jazzed to start the edits on After the Fall? Yeah, I haven't started those yet. I did, however, write a couple pages for my NEW, yet-to-be-properly-titled-or-talked-about-in-public, YA wip.

This is the first time I've been so aware of a character's voice right from the beginning, and I hope that means I won't have to spend a draft fixing voice issues (like I am now with ATF). I find it fairly easy to talk like a teenager, but I don't want THIS character to sound like the teenager in my other book, so I'm making the effort now.

Then I swear I'll get going on my edits.

In other news, Friday night Ibis and I went to dinner with my dad at our favorite restaurant, Il Mare. It's on a rocky outcrop between Playa Madera and Playa La Ropa and overlooks Zihuatanejo Bay. It's usually hit or miss whether or not we'll get a nice sunset, and we TOTALLY lucked out.

We went a little crazy taking pictures -- my dad's eyeballs were permanently locked in the back of his skull -- but how often do you get a backdrop like this? We joked that the people at the table next to us probably thought we were nuts, but then they started taking pictures too.

Now I can cross off "eat at Il Mare" AND "take fabulous sunset pictures with my sweetie."

Another Day at the Beach

2010-02-12T07:00:00.005-06:00

I leave in eleven days so I'm trying to do a lot of things "one last time." Among them: take a trip to Las Gatas, the beach directly across the bay from our home. As far as the tourists are concerned, you can only get there by boat, but you can actually hike along a narrow rocky trail. Since we went with my dad and another couple (who'd never been) we opted for the boat.

Owen's first boat ride!

Wouldn't you know it, there was a cruise ship! Talk about up close and personal!

Las Gatas is known for it's excellent snorkeling, courtesy of the rocky break that extends across the mouth of the inlet. (At least I think it's called an inlet...) The beach can feel a little crowded if all those tables are full, but it takes a LOT of people to fill those up.

We live just beyond the cruise ship and it was fun to see it from the opposite side of the bay. We kept waiting for it to move a little bit more so we could point out our place to our friends, but the cruise ship was very uncooperative.

This Writing Life

2010-02-10T07:00:00.001-06:00

I haven't talked much about fiction writing this year because I hadn't written any fiction this year. Between caring for my grandmother for most of December, then getting back into my routine back here, then writing freelance articles for MONEY (I already have thirty published articles!) then, uhh... deciding to move to Michigan, my creative juices have sort of been on hold.

I sent the second draft out to a handful of beta readers in December and I've read their comments as they've trickled in but had yet to do anything with them. I came up with an AWESOME young adult idea in December that I'm still really really excited about, but I haven't been able to come up with a storyline that really clicks for me, so it's just sitting there. I've done hours of research, just not plotting.

I've been thinking about my new idea and my current wip but just haven't had the urge to get to them. Well last week my friend Lurker Monkey posted a prompt for our monthly flash fiction group and I wrote half the story before I could even reply to the blog post.

Read my story here.

Then Monday I decided enough was enough and I began compiling my beta readers' notes into one document. Let's just say there are a looooooot of comments in that first chapter. Wow. By Tuesday night at 8:30 (just in time for the Lost premiere -- we're a week behind the US schedule) I had all my notes plugged in and I'm officially ready to begin draft #3.

I leave for Michigan in two weeks and I decided that if I don't start working on my wip before I go it'll be too easy to keep putting it off -- even though I LOVE my story. It means too much to me not to keep moving forward. And this will give me something to do on the plane other than worry about Owen.

That is One Sick Puppy

2010-02-08T07:00:00.003-06:00

Let me give you a tip:

If your dog is sick and you're trying to find out ways to help him, don't google "sick puppy." Trust me on this.

Early Thursday morning we woke up to the sound of our adorable cuddly puppy puking his guts out. I managed about three hours sleep between rounds and we brought him to the vet as soon as they opened. He determined that Owen has a bacterial infection and that it's common in dogs here when we have heavy rains. All the crud rushing down the hill collects at the bottom -- where we are -- and finds its way into dogs' bellies.

The vet gave us some pills for Owen and sent us on our way. He was lethargic and didn't eat, but he didn't seem too bad. Friday we took him to the beach, and again, he was tired, but still his normal puppy self. Well, late Friday he started getting sick again and wouldn't stop throwing up. We were getting progressively worried and didn't know what to do (enter more googling), so back we went Saturday morning. The vet gave him a shot, said no food or water for 24 hours, and said to bring him back that evening.

During the second visit the vet weighed Owen and he'd lost half a kilo -- one whole pound -- since Thursday! He started at 6.6 kilos and was down to almost 6. That's a lot when you're so itty bitty! The vet told us to come back in the morning and approved Owen to eat ice cubes. Woohoo!

Then we had a minor incident while driving back from the vet. Ibis was teaching an English class so I was alone with Owen, who insisted on riding in my lap. Fortunately we've got a 5-10 second window between when he starts gagging and actually gets sick, so I was able to pull the car as far to the left curb as possible, hit the hazards, and fling open the driver's side door. I held Owen over the sidewalk with one hand while cars squeezed by on the right. I think people must have been able to see what was going on because even though traffic was heavy, no one honked at me.

Once I got him home he was still sick -- and very weak -- but eventually seemed a little better. He slept all night and drank a bit of water before his appointment, and the vet didn't give him any more shots. In addition to allowing him water, he also gave us this Nutri-Gel stuff that's made for animals and is loaded with nutrients. I've been calling it Nutri-goo because Ibis used to eat this energy goo when he ran marathons and that's a lot more fun to say.

As of mid-day Sunday Owen's been sleeping a lot, but he seems more and more like his normal self. He's run up to the roof on his own and even went to the door when Ibis left -- something he wasn't doing for a couple days. Even the water guy was weirded out when Owen didn't greet him Saturday night, so he asked to come in and pet him. Everybody loves Owen.

I'd like to thank all my friends who held my hand over the weekend and gave me endless support, advice, and encouragement. This is the first animal I've been solely responsible for and it helps to hear what others have been through (and some of them are still going through).

UPDATE: As of Monday morning he's finally acting like his old self. He's running around, jumping on the furniture, and even barked!

Who Says Rain Dances Don't Work?

2010-02-05T07:00:00.003-06:00

*checks calendar*

Yep, it's February.

*checks sky*

Yep, it's raining.

This could be why:

I took this around 5pm on Thursday and that SAME cloud has been hovering over Mexico since late Tuesday night. It seems all my complaining about the hot, blistering sun worked and it's gone into hibernation. I feel a little bad for the tourists but super excited about the amount of writing I'm getting done. I haven't actually worked on a novel yet this year, but I am cruising through my non-fiction articles -- and those actually pay!

Rainy season ended MONTHS ago but it seems someone forgot to tell Mother Nature. The previous two winters that I've lived here it didn't rain a single time from early December until mid-May. Since I returned from Detroit the first week of January it's rained more days than it hasn't, and the past two days have been CONSTANT. Unending.

Just ask my dad, who arrived here Monday afternoon and has yet to go to the beach. At this rate he'll finish all his reading material by next week.

And lest any of you lash me with a wet noodle, I'm NOT COMPLAINING. I love this. :)

More Violence

2010-02-03T07:00:00.001-06:00

And this one is a little unsettling.

I've mentioned here before that our favorite beach is Barra de Potosi -- a stretch of beach at the southernmost end of a 9K beach just south of Zihua. The airport is at the north end and you can see Barra from the air when you land. The water is cleaner and bluer than in Zihua, there are less people, you can actually see the fish in the water (and watch the birds fishing for them), and there's a lagoon around the bend that you can explore by canoe.

We go there maybe once a month and always tell people to make sure and include a daytrip there in their plans. Every friend and family member who's visited here has been there -- that's where we saw three whales last year with my mom, dad, and sister.

Well, last week someone (or multiple someones) shot as passing vehicles. It didn't make the same headlines as the shooting in Ixtapa, but once again, tourists were targeted. I don't know many details or I'd include the links here.

A narrow two-lane road winds through the fields from the main highway to the beach, and once you're on it there aren't many options for getting off, aside from stopping at someone's house. Yet there are lots of places for people to hide. We never go there at night because the restaurants all close around 6pm so I can't say what it's like there after dark.

Ibis brought some tourists there on Friday and stopped off at the new ecological park on the way. He met a local ex-pat on the tour and when he returned to the parking lot, discovered the man's van had been broken into. Inside the parking lot. The logical assumption is this is all the work of the same people (the shooting near Barra, not the Ixtapa shooting -- they are almost an hour apart) but my bigger concern is: what if they aren't? I always tell people that the economy here sucks and people are getting desperate, but I never imagined people being shot at in broad daylight.

It's really too bad. I'd have loved to gone there once more before I leave.

Twelve Days Short of Three Years

2010-02-01T07:00:00.005-06:00

You might want to grab a fresh cup of coffee for this one.

* waits *

Ibis and I have come to the difficult decision that it's best if I move back to Michigan. If you're a regular reader of this blog, I don't think I need to explain why, but the biggest reasons are the increasing violence and the whole not-having-money thing.

Owen and I will be flying into Chicago on February 23rd, then I'll drive my dad's van to my parents' house in Michigan, where I will become a cliché. Yes, I'm moving into their basement.

I'd rather not get into all the details on the internet, but I'm sure you have a couple obvious questions.

My Marriage
No, we are not getting divorced. We've talked about sending me back to the US to work for well over a year now and I've always resisted (again, for a lot of reasons I'd rather not get into).

A Job
No, I don't have a job yet, but I'm working on it. I've applied to one place (I know…) and I have a list of "industry" folks that I plan to contact. Michigan's economy is among the worst in the US, but that's where my family is.

The good thing is I no longer have the limitations I had by trying to work in Mexico or Canada. As an immigrant you are required work within your field of study -- for me, graphic design -- and there just aren't that many design positions in a struggling economy. Now if I want to wait tables or work at a bookstore (or both), I can.

I've also started writing for Demand Studios -- an online company that supplies articles for eHow, Livestrong, and several other website. I've already had two articles approved, and yes, I'm kicking myself for not doing this two years ago.

Ibis & The US
No, my being in the US will not change anything about Ibis getting into the country. He is facing a ten-year ban for unlawful presence and that ban will not be lifted. Period. The answer we received in September was regarding an extreme-hardship waiver that we filed on my behalf. Appealing that decision or reapplying will only waste more years and more money. He can reapply in seven years. Period.

Travel to Zihua
Yes, I still think it's safe to visit Zihuatanejo. In fact, my dad arrives today for two months and my brother will be here at the beginning of March.

True, the violence helped persuade me to leave, but the dangers I face are because I'm a local. (I'm going to generalize here, so bear with me.) When some locals see me -- a white American who doesn't work -- they assume I have money, or if I don't have money, my family does. After all, we're getting by somehow, right? That puts me in danger, especially when all around us people are struggling to survive. Burglaries and muggings have increased drastically since we moved here three years ago, and you can only avoid being in the wrong place at the wrong time for so long.

If you've been here you know that the local police and government takes tourism very seriously and it's very rare for anything bad to happen IF YOU STICK TO THE TOURISTY areas. The Canadians who were shot in mid-January were on a deserted bike path. Another tourist was raped a couple days after that, but again, she was on a fairly isolated beach. (I don't know the details of that attack or I would tell you more.)

Yes, bad things happen, but that's not limited to Zihuatanejo or Mexico. I've decided I've had enough of this place, but that doesn't mean I'll never return to visit.

Okay, now everyone take a deep breath.

* inhales *

* waits for everyone to join in *

* turns blue *

Okay, seriously people. Take a deep breath.

* takes another deep breath but only pretends to hold it and breathes out my nose *

Because I'm leaving Mexico, this blog will no longer make sense. So… I have a new blog:

Hoosblog

Go check it out!

* waits *

What do you think? There are still a couple things I'd like to tweak, but for the most part, I'm happy with it. I decided to switch to Wordpress for a couple reasons, number one being I can still keep "melanieavila" as the name.

One question for you fellow Wordpress bloggers: is there a Followers button? I know I can see who's following me, but I like having it displayed on the main page.

A benefit I didn't anticipate is the extra pages Wordpress allows you to set up. As you can see (you looked, right?) I've essentially turned this into my writing/author/whatever website. Some of you may recall I have another website that also has my writing info on it. Well not anymore! I've changed that too:

Melanie Avila

* waits *

This site hasn't changed as much, but I've refreshed a couple things, including the About Me photo. Ibis and I had a mini photo shoot on the roof over the weekend. Didn't he do a great job?

But wait, there's more!

Because designing a five-page Wordpress blog and updating my design site weren't enough, I started yet another blog:

What Am I Doing in Michigan?

* waits with a big smile *

Eh? Eh? What do you think?

I feel bad retiring What Am I Doing in Mexico?, but not bad enough to stay. I'll continue posting here until I leave, then transition to Hoosblog once I get settled in Michigan. Once there, I'll keep this blog online, but I'll probably deactivate comments.

One last favor before I go: Will you please follow my new blogs? I'd really appreciate it. :)

* takes a big sip of coffee *

Two If By Sea

2010-01-29T07:00:00.002-06:00

Yesterday Ibis and I spent the afternoon at the beach -- something I really don't do as often as I should, considering where we live -- because I wanted to see the TWO cruise ships in the bay. Two! This has happened before but I was out of town or something, so this was a first for me.

We had planned to go to Playa la Ropa (the biggest beach on Zihuatanejo Bay) but stopped at the hotel where Ibis used to work to see which beach some friends were at. They were settled in front of the hotel, so we decided to stay there. (I swear this gets more interesting...)

About an hour after we sat down, Ibis was running up and down the beach, Owen yipping at his heels, when he stopped to talk to a family of four. Ibis talks to everyone and Owen is absolutely adorable, so I didn't pay much attention to what they were doing until they approached where we were sitting.

"Melanie?" the woman asked, rushing ahead of her family.

"Yes." I stood and took a step forward, smiling as she neared. Like I said, Ibis talks to everyone so it's not uncommon for people I don't know to come up to me and say hello.

"I read your blog!"

This is where I about fell over.

"I'm [xxx]. I wrote to you a couple weeks ago."

Ah yes, [xxx]. She was concerned about the violence here in Zihua and had written to ask if I thought it was still safe for her to come. I wrote back that as long as they used common sense I was sure they wouldn't have any problems, like I do whenever people inquire about the risks.

"Hi!" I said. By now her family, Ibis, and Owen had joined us, so we all shook hands and talked for a good ten minutes.

They'd been in town for three days but because their hotel is SO nice, this was the first day they'd ventured into town. (I do NOT blame them. The hotel is awesome.) They were on their way back when she noticed Owen racing across the beach. She told her husband that she thought it was Owen, to which he -- obviously -- replied that she was crazy. (Yes, I'm paraphrasing here.)

She was sure of it, then she thought she recognized Ibis, and just as her husband and tired children had almost convinced her to keep walking, she heard Ibis call Owen's name. That's when she went up to him and asked "Is that Owen?"

(Ibis told me afterwards he thought they were going to try to buy Owen, but they weren't worried about a mere dog. They wanted the blogger! Ha!)

Ibis confirmed that Owen was Owen, and then she asked "Is your wife Melanie?"

Fortunately Ibis is aware of my blog so knew right away how she would know all this. He pointed out where I was sitting and that's when we met.

The craziest part is that we NEVER go to that beach (Playa Madera). Sure, Ibis runs with Owen on the beach sometimes, and she remembered reading that on my blog, but never there. CRA-ZEE.

Once they left, I turned to one of the people we'd been sitting with. "I feel like a celebrity."

He laughed. "You ARE a celebrity!"

Does this mean I have arrived?

*****

(Here's another shot of the boat, zoomed in so you can see a bit more.)

Caravan

2010-01-27T07:00:00.001-06:00

Ibis and I were running errands Tuesday afternoon when we noticed a bit of a traffic jam up ahead. That's not a very common occurrence here in Zihua, so a line of red taillights really stands out. (Especially because half the cars here don't have functioning taillights.)

We approached with caution, half expecting a police truck to zoom through the cars like one did earlier in the afternoon. When that happened I commented to Ibis that "this is what people probably imagine when they think about Mexican traffic." In that particular instance we were at a junction where cars merge from the left AND right into a middle street, and half the people merging want to cross all the traffic to get to the complete opposite side. Add to that a police truck with flashing lights, a loud siren, and a muscular cop with his machine gun ready, and things come to a halt.

But that wasn't what was going on this time.

What originally looked like a slow-moving bus turned out to be a fancy motor home towing a car. From Quebec.

"Wow, Quebec," we both said, marveling at how far these crazy tourists had traveled.

Then we noticed another, similar vehicle in front of it.

"Hey, they're from Quebec, too."

After about the fourth one we confirmed that they must all be traveling together. There were ten HUGe motor homes, all towing cars and some with bicycles strapped to the back, easing their way through Zihua. This unleashed a zillion questions from me, most importantly:

"How do they all stay together when going through towns like this, especially at lights?"

Any ideas?

Spontaneous Design

2010-01-25T07:00:00.003-06:00

On Friday I was chatting with my friend Adam when he mentioned that he wanted a different image for his new serial blog, Gumshoe Casefiles. He described more or less what he wanted -- a manilla folder with the name in a typewriter font -- but said he couldn't find the right image.

I, of course, got all excited and told him how he could make a coffee-stained folder himself.

He lamented his lack of photoshop skills.

"Good thing you know a couple designers," I said.

Ten minutes later I was spilling coffee on my own manilla folder.

So far so good.

We decided the initial design looked too plain, so I took a photo of my desk, dropped it behind the folder, and added a little tilt for good measure.

He still plans to tweak the colors a bit, but go check out the final product!

Like what you see? Contact me for a custom blog head at melaniehoo@hotmail.com.

Two Canadian Tourists Shot in Ixtapa

2010-01-22T07:00:00.005-06:00

Here we go again.

On Wednesday, January 20th, two Canadian tourists were shot during an attempted robbery on the bicycle path on the far end of Ixtapa. The path runs from the north end of Zihuatanejo, through Ixtapa, and winds through a wooded area until it ends at Playa Linda. The attack happened two miles from the end of the path.

Image from Despertar de la Costa

Chislain Lazure, 55, from Quebec, was shot in the abdomen and his partner, a 40-year old woman, was grazed in the ear. They reportedly refused medical attention at the time but were later hospitalized. Wednesday afternoon they went to the Prosecutor's office to report the crime.

This article from a Canadian website gives slightly varying details, and as I'm not entirely sure what has happened since the shooting, I figured I should include that as well.

One thing I haven't found online but did hear through word of mouth is that the gunmen robbed up to nineteen people on that path and had them lie on the ground and hide in the woods when other people approached. Rumors spread faster than actual news around here, so I don't know if this is true, but I've been on that path and I can see how that would happen.

So, what does this mean?

When the violence erupted here last spring I received dozens of emails from nervous Americans and Canadians -- many of whom had been here before -- wanting to know if they should cancel their trips. Based on my stats, a lot of people find my blog while googling "violence in Mexico" and "is it safe to go to Zihuatanejo?" so I want to address that. (Especially for my former roommate who JUST booked a trip here two days ago.)

Mexico is a foreign country. Mexico is struggling economically. Tourists who come here and keep that in mind shouldn't have any problems. My standard response when people ask if it's still safe to walk around downtown Zihua is "if you stumble around drunk in the middle of the night, especially alone, something bad will happen. If you use common sense and stick to well-lit areas where other tourists frequent, you shouldn't have any problems."

I do not mean to imply that the tourists who were shot weren't careful. They probably never imagined someone would shoot at them in the middle of the day. That's the part that surprised me the most when I heard about the attack. Ibis and I walked that path once over the summer -- all five miles through the woods -- and we were more than a little nervous that someone might try to rob us. We weren't carrying anything besides our water bottles and car keys, but a desperate thief doesn't know that. (In fact, Ibis was probably carrying 100 pesos just so we'd have something to give and not make the person angry.) Once you set out on that path you're stuck until you get to the end. Something that all the locals know only too well.

Ibis and I agreed that we wouldn't walk on that path again, but at the time we figured rollerblading or biking would be safer. Now I'm glad I've walked through there once because I won't again.

Now, when I say "use common sense", here's what I mean:

- don't flash a lot of cash
- don't wear expensive or expensive-looking jewelry (I've stopped wearing my diamond ring)
- always always always be aware of your surroundings
- stay with a group
- don't go down dark alleys or streets

And a more recent addition for Zihua:

- don't walk on the path along the ocean between downtown and Playa Madera at night

The ironic thing about this list? These are the exact same precautions I took while living in Chicago. In the US. In the Midwest. Now that I'm living in Mexico I've stepped it up a notch:

- I don't go out by myself after dark -- EVER
- I always make sure my husband knows where I am and when I will be home

I know there are some ex-pats who live here and think that we're paranoid, but I'd rather be paranoid than get mugged, shot, or worse.

Before I've scared everyone into never wanting to visit our little fishing village, please know that the government and the police take tourism very seriously. As long as you stick to the beaten paths there's no reason you can't have an uneventful stay here.

I'll be sure to let you all know if there are further developments, and in the meantime, stay safe.

Is This What They Call More Fun?

2010-01-20T07:00:00.001-06:00

I've been coloring my hair for over ten years, and until I moved to Mexico I'd always let a professional handle the foils, pastes, and whatever magic goes on inside that little plastic bowl. Once I arrived south of the border I opted for magic in a box and, for the most part, I've been happy with that arrangement.

Until recently.

My hair has become increasingly darker over the past year and a couple weeks ago I decided to go back to blond. I'd already purchased a box o'magic when I stumbled upon pictures of me with boxed blond from a couple years ago. I don't remember looking quite so... brassy. Needless to say, I wasn't keen on repeating that look, so I informed Ibis I wanted to find a hair stylist.

There are stylists on nearly every corner but I've always been hesitant to venture inside. My hair isn't special or anything, but it is different from typical Mexican hair and I've been more than a little concerned about letting an inexperienced (with American hair) person pour chemicals over my head.

Turns out a woman from Ibis' gym owns a salon across the street from the gym, and after a two-minute consultation where she "examined" my hair (and I supposed deemed me able to handle her chemicals) I scheduled an appointment for the following Saturday.

I was more than a little nervous in the day leading up to the appointment, but I figured as long as she didn't burn my hair off, it could always be fixed. Right? Right. Saturday at noon sharp I plopped into her chair and watched as she mixed her chemicals in the little plastic dish.

"What's that?" I asked. (This is all in Spanish, but I'll spare you the translation exercises.)

"To prepare the hair for the color." (At least I think that's what she said.)

"And mine?" I asked, lifting the box of color I'd brought from home and told her during the consultation that I'd like her to use.

"Yes, we'll use that too."

Hmm. I wasn't sure if she meant the mixture she was dutifully putting on my hair was to PREPARE for the color I brought, or if mine would be added on top, or what. Meanwhile she'd started the foils and I was grateful to see she did it exactly the way every other stylists has ever done my color. Two points for her.

Midway through the foiling process she had to run across the street for another box of tinfoil.

"I have a lot of hair," I said sheepishly.

"Siiiiiiiiiii."

Yes, our conversation was scintillating.

THEN she reached for MY box (which I'd already opened) and prepared THAT in her little bowl.

"Is this the same color as your roots?"

"No. It's lighter."

"Okay." She shrugged and carried on.

Now I'm panicking. This whole time I've been wondering if she's put bleach on my head because Mexicans tend to have dark, coarse hair (in comparison to mine anyways) and they need to bleach their hair before applying color. Why oh why oh why didn't I demand to know what was in her magical goo?

Before I can say another word, she starts squirting the boxed color onto my roots and the pieces in between the foils. A few curse words bounced around inside my head, but I figured it was too late now. Hopefully I wouldn't have to dye it black to undo the damage.

When my entire head was coated she shuffled me to a bench to wait the requisite 20 minutes. I'm used to a little tingling during this process, but my scalp was BURNING. Again, my fault since it was MY boxed pixie dust that was doing all the damage.

Twenty minutes later she led me to the sink to rinse, and as soon as she had the foils off she sprinted from the sink to the shelf with all her chemicals. She slathered something on my head, her hands rubbing furiously while my bowels dropped.

"What's that for?" Not that I wanted to know at this point.

"To stop the yellow."

[insert F word really long and drawn out]

She finished rinsing me, slapped a towel on my head, and placed me back in my plastic chair (no swivel action here). I was afraid to look, but I figured I'd have to get it over at some point.

The majority of my hair looked exactly the same -- what the hell was she doing with those foils for thirty minutes?? -- and my ROOTS -- the part at the TOP OF MY HEAD -- were GLOWING yellow.

[insert F word really long and drawn out]

I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything.

"It's very strong on your hair."

"Yeah."

"Do you want me to blow dry it?"

I nearly laughed. "Sure."

Ten minutes later my dripping hair was only mildly damp, and the blond tones had started to balance out. She dragged another gooey product through my hair and declared me finished.

I still wasn't sure how I felt about it when I left, but I thanked her and handed her my money. By the time I got home the Mexican heat had dried it the rest of the way and I could finally see that the highlights she'd put in looked nice. Kind of buttery, if you may. The only part that I wasn't thrilled with was the color I'D brought.

In the end, I'm happy with how it looks and will definitely go back to her again. But next time I'm leaving the magic to her.

Total cost: under $40 USD.

Kelly Meding's Three Days to Dead

2010-01-18T07:00:00.001-06:00

Aside from ten sleepless days I spent with the Twilight series, I've never read fantasy and never considered it something I would be interested in. Well not anymore.

Kelly Meding's debut novel, Three Days to Dead, is exactly the kind of book I love -- I don't want to do anything but read, but I want to read slowly to make it last longer.

Here's the back cover copy:

She’s young, deadly, and hunted—with only three days to solve her own murder…

When Evangeline Stone wakes up naked and bruised on a cold slab at the morgue – in a stranger’s body, with no memory of who she is and how she got there – her troubles are only just beginning. Before that night, she and the other two members of her Triad were star bounty hunters — mercilessly cleansing the city of the murderous creatures living in the shadows, from vampires to shape-shifters to trolls. Then something terrible happened that not only cost all three of them their lives, but also convinced the city’s other Hunters that Evy was a traitor . . . and she can’t even remember what it was.

Now she’s a fugitive, piecing together her memory, trying to deal some serious justice – and discovering that she has only three days to solve her own murder before the reincarnation spell wears off. Because in three days, Evy will die again – but this time, there’s no second chance…

I'm horrible at writing book reviews, but I will tell you this -- Evy is a strong heroine that doesn't take crap from anyone, yet there are hints at the softer woman inside that make her relatable. Three Days isn't listed as a romance, but there's definitely some heat between the, er... pages.

Coming from someone who doesn't read fantasy, Kelly does a wonderful job of creating a world full of vampires, goblins, weres, and elves without confusing us literal folk. She explains each group without dumping pages and pages on the reader -- instead things are explained as Evy races from one scene to the next. Just the way I like it. She also kept me guessing right up to the very end. Even when we know who the bad guy is and what his plans are, we STILL don't know all the details. Kelly does a wonderful job of doling out the bare minimum to keep you reading.

Oh yeah, and Wyatt is HOT.

The coolest part for me was being able to email Kelly as soon as I finished to tell her how much I loved it!

666

2010-01-15T07:00:00.001-06:00

Gah!

*cue slasher-flick music*

I'm sure there are a lot of things I've done 666 times and now I can add "posting to my blog."

Among others (I'm guessing -- I haven't actually counted):
- eaten ... (Wow, I thought I'd start with an easy one and now I'm stuck thinking about everything I've possibly eaten 666 times. Let's just go with cheese and leave it at that.)
- shot a basketball
- fallen down
- done a spin salsa dancing
- saved a document (that's per day; I'm a tad compulsive)
- tripped
- petted Owen
- read a book (not the same book -- books in general -- and yes, the total is probably much higher, as is the cheese)
- read about the Jen-Brad-Angelina love triangle
- wished the paparazzi would leave Jen-Brad-Angelina alone
- watched a Leonardo Dicaprio film (and George Clooney, Viggo Mortensen, Clive Owen, Johhny Depp, Paul Walker ((I'm sorry, he's hot)), and Tom Cruise ((back in the day)))
- quoted Ben Stiller
- turned left
- craved goat cheese
- twirled my wedding band
- bit off my split ends
- used adverbs
- cracked my knuckles
- emailed my mom
- wondered how different my life would be if I'd never moved to DC
- poured a glass of wine
- laughed with my best friend (we've known each other 29 years ((holy crap!!)) so it's probably more)
- slammed my shin, knee, or thigh into something
- said "I love the internet"
- missed my friends
- missed my family
- smiled at the kindness of others, whether it involved me or not
- marveled at the adorableness that is my dog
- wished my online friends lived closer
- wondered about my future
- been grateful for everyone who's touched my life

What's something you've done 666 times?

I've Been Busy!

2010-01-13T07:00:00.002-06:00

If you normally read blogs through a reader, take a moment and click through to my actual blog.

That's right -- I've done some housekeeping! And photoshopping, and reorganizing....

The photos were all taken here in Zihuatanejo and I feel like they give readers I good idea of what our little town in like. (And maybe the fact that I put them in the header will mean we can move that much sooner...)

I've also gone through all the blog links on the side and broke the Blogs I Read Everyday category into Writing Blogs and Non-Writing Blogs. I don't mean to imply that the writing blogs are not fun -- that's just how I have them labeled in my Google Reader. If you don't see your blog and I regularly comment on yours, let me know. If you have a blog but haven't posted in months, well... I took you off. Let me know if you start posting again and I'll update the list.

The only new thing is I've added a Twitter widget so you can see my most recent posts. Hopefully I'll remember that's there when I start gabbing about new names for my yodeling band with Stacey.

What do you think?

I Have a New Gig

2010-01-11T07:00:00.003-06:00

For most of my adult life I've been a graphic designer, in the last year or so I've started saying I'm a writer (although only to select people), and as of the first of the year, I have a new title:

Social Network Liaison

Sounds fancy, eh? Backspace: the Writer's Place, has hired me to solicit content from writers, agents, etc, for its blog, STET, then spread the word on Facebook and Twitter. I even have the secret passwords, bwahahahaha.

While I currently spend a lot of time on these sites (pick your chin up off the floor) this angle is new for me, and I'm excited that all my blog reading will finally be put to good use. The first article is up today -- a post by Therese Walsh that was originally posted on Writer Unboxed back in October.

That's right -- the content doesn't have to be original.

STET focuses on six categories -- conferences, literary agents, writing craft, publication, marketing & promotion, and opinion -- AND you don't have to be a published author to submit an article.

Do you have a post you think would fit within these categories?

If this goes well I'd love to be able to develop this into a career, so keep me in mind when you get so rich and famous you can no longer handle your online shenanigans.

Dis⋅cre⋅tion

2010-01-08T07:00:00.003-06:00

The quality of being discreet, esp. with reference to one's own actions or speech; prudence or decorum: Throwing all discretion to the winds, he blurted out the truth.

I'm a sharer. If you catch me in the right mood (or even not the best mood) I'm bound to overshare until your eyes glaze over and you find yourself wondering what possessed you to become friends with me in the first place. Over the years I've had many stern talks with myself about telling too many private details to too many people and while I've gotten better, I still feel this need to tell people everything.

Yesterday I actually said the words "I'd rather not get into it" when a friend I've known for twenty years asked me a personal question. We were talking about something that I've been open about in the past, but I've gotten to the point that it takes too much energy that I just don't have to spare. I felt guilty about it at the time, but as I'm writing this I only feel relief.

Do you ever feel like that?

Is this something only I struggle with?

I've often joked that I can keep everyone's secrets but my own, and I guess that's because my secrets are the only ones I'm allowed to tell. And I like talking. And sharing. And learning secrets about other people.

I'm sure I'm not alone in that.

Anyways, it felt good to stand up for my mental health and even better to have that friend understand and then -- get this -- STILL BE MY FRIEND.

Things I Did Not Do While in the US for One Month That I Normally Do When I’m Home for Two Weeks

2010-01-06T06:00:00.002-06:00

- Eat fast food
- Watch prime time television
- Keep up on gossip blogs
- Exercise
- Go clothes shopping
- Buy a crapload of previously-viewed DVDs
- Go to Spring Lake (where my parents live) (this was a first)
- Sleep in
- Play games with my sister (I do NOT understand how this didn’t happen)
- Feel an urge to leave
- Get sick of the weather (I loved it even when the temps dropped into single digits)

Things I DID Do That I Do Every Time I’m Home:

- Eat at my favorite restaurant, Café Iberico (this time with new friends)
- Eat at my favorite Thai restaurant, Opart
- Squeeze in a lunch at Panera (yes, this all revolves around food)
- Stock up on sunscreen (you wouldn’t BELIEVE how expensive it is in Zihua)
- Speak Spanish to everyone for the first couple days, especially little things like “Excuse me” and “No, thank you” that come out of my mouth automatically
- Talk to my sweetie via Skype
- Ooh and ahh at the tall buildings as if I'd never lived in Chicago
- Laugh and laugh and laugh with friends and family, and leave feeling like we didn’t have enough time together (although much more this trip than in trips past)
- Invade my brother’s apartment (formerly my apartment) for a couple days, then breeze out like I still own the place (half the stuff in there used to be ours!) (Thanks Brian!)

Things I did that I don’t normally do when I come home, but MAN how I would love to do them on all my future trips:

- Go to a Red Wings game at the Joe with my mom
- Get together with several writing friends (see laughing statement above)
- Get together with several middle school friends (see laughing statement above)
- Drive an hour in the middle of the night on icy roads after downing several cups of coffee so I would stay awake for said late-night drive home, then lie awake in bed unable to sleep, then just as I’m falling asleep receive a call from one of the friends I’d been with and talk for another half hour, during which time she realizes she’s locked out of her aunt’s house and we feel like we’re in middle school again (what? You didn’t sneak out in middle school? I swear it only happened a couple times)(I'm thinking this probably shouldn't be in this category, but the whole night was JUST SO FUN that it has to stay here)
- Get a netbook (okay, I don’t need a netbook on every trip, but you know what I’m saying…)
- Get an idea for a novel that has me really really excited (yes, it’s still just a premise, but I have high hopes)
- Bake and cook in an oven
- Talk with my aunts more than I have in YEARS
- Really get to know my grandmother
- Feel more useful and productive than I have in years

And thus ends my month of living...

You know? I can't think of the right word, but I'm grateful to have had the chance to do what I have and I only hope my actions will continue their positive ripple once I'm gone. Thank you to everyone who made it happen.

I Think I Missed My Calling

2010-01-04T06:00:00.001-06:00

We're only four days into the new year and I think I've spent more time cleaning and organizing in these four days (well, really three) than I did all of last year. As you know, I'm staying with my grandmother while she recuperates from back surgery, and since I leave on Wednesday, she needs to be able to function on her own. That means lots of organizing.

It's really amazing how many things you can't do when you can't carry things. She needs a walker for the time being, which means she either needs to plan ahead and figure out where things need to be when there's another person to help, or carry it in the pink & purple bicycle basket I bought her.

(Is it bad that I get endless joy from the little girl basket? I didn't buy the bell and the streamers like I wanted to...)

She and my family keep thanking me for everything I've done, but I'm just happy to help. My family has gone above and beyond to help me over the past several (several? ugh) years, and to be able to give back gives makes me feel more fulfilled than I have in awhile. I just hope my grandmother still feels that way when she discovers just how many things I actually threw away.

In the meantime, let me know if you have a kitchen or bedroom that needs organized. For the low low price of a round-trip airline ticket and and an endless supply of red wine, I'm all yours.

It's the Future!

2010-01-01T06:00:00.001-06:00

*adjusts robotic-sounding microphone*

Twenty-ten. Can you believe it? Ten years ago we thought the world would implode and our bank accounts would be wiped out, and now I have wrinkles and gray hairs and I’m still trying to get rid of those same last five pounds.

Unfortunately, parts of my life are even less certain than they were at age 24, but I’m hopeful that things will start to turn around for us. I hate to say they can’t get worse, because they can always get worse, but 2009 was quite a challenge.

While I don’t do resolutions, I do have some goals for the new year, the biggest having to do with my writing. I hope to start querying After the Fall in another month or two, and I’m determined to keep sending out my short stories until something sticks.

Personally, I’m determined to get out of Zihua. Ibis and I have been in Mexico for three years now, and we never imagined the process would take this long OR turn out the way it did. We have a lot ahead of us and I’ll share more details as we make decisions, but for now, just know that we’re trying.

As for my blog, I’ve decided to keep the three-day schedule I’ve adopted for the past month. (Yes this was planned. Do you feel tricked?) I often struggle to come up with content and I don’t want to bore you, so three days it is. I’m debating changing the look, but I feel like so many people read through Google Reader and other RSS feeds that I don’t know if it’s worth it.

What do you think?

Did you have a good new year?

*turns off microphone and zooms off in hovercraft*

Finally

2009-12-30T06:00:00.001-06:00

It seems like I've been waiting for this year to end since it started.

I've been thinking over 2009 and trying to come up with something cheerful to say, something that will spin the negative into positive (which I'm very good at), but I keep getting stuck. The two things that stand out are getting Owen over the summer, and my grandmother finally coming home in mid-December. Other than that, meh.

(Well, meeting my writing friends and my middle school friends ALSO ranks quite high...)

This year has been tough for more people than I could ever list here, in more ways than I really should list here (and believe me, I wrote a two-page post that does not need to see the light of pixels), so instead let's raise a toast to 2010.

*raises fat-free Hazelnut-creamer laden coffee above head*

Here's to you!

I stopped making resolutions years ago, but if you have any, let's hear 'em!

It's Snowing!

2009-12-28T09:40:00.003-06:00

I know everyone in the Midwest and on the east coast is probably sick to death of the snow, but it thrills me to see everything coated in a couple inches of the white stuff. Yes, I may change my mind when I'm driving to Kalamazoon later today, but for now it's so pretty!

The hockey game on Saturday was a lot of fun. Our seats were on center ice, and while we weren't exactly on the glass, we had an awesome view (well, we did when the tall guys in front of us went to buy beer).

The pie-baking and side-dish making for Christmas dinner went better than expected. I was most impressed with my ability to get everything on the table at the same time. Generally I'm very good with timing and never keep anyone waiting -- except for cooking. Inevitably the vegetable will be the first thing ready and we spend ten minutes waiting for the rice while the meat "sets" longer than it needs to.

I'm at my sister's right now and we're getting ready to run a couple errands (including Target!!!) then we'll camp on the couch watching movies until it's time for my middle-school get-together. Tomorrow morning I head back to Detroit for my final week of caring for my grandmother. Did I tell you I extended my stay until the 6th? Hopefully my house and my dog will still be standing when I get there.

I hope you had a good weekend and have a wonderful week.

I'm in the Huffington Post!

2009-12-24T06:00:00.000-06:00

My aunt has an article in the Huffington Post called What's the Oldest Item in Your Refrigerator?

I am "the niece." I also took the picture.

I wasn't planning to tell my gramma that I took pictures, but I guess the cat's out of the bag. Now I'm off to the grocery store to restock her salad dressing and bbq sauce.

So You Think You're a Writer?

2009-12-23T06:00:00.001-06:00

I've mentioned before that I struggle to come up with story ideas. Most of my writer friends talk about having entire notebooks full of ideas and they often struggle with choosing one thing to focus on. Not me.

Don't get me wrong, my mind is always going and a day doesn't go by without me making up a story about something or someone I encounter, but these ideas are just fleeting things... nothing worthy of an entire novel. Or even short story.

The week before I flew home (so two weeks ago? I've lost track) I came up with an idea for my next novel. I wrote the first couple paragraphs, I did a rough timeline since it covers almost fifty years, then I hopped on a plane excited to start writing.

Then I got tired.

Then I arrived in Chicago, then Michigan, and then I chatted with my aunt the writer and she encouraged me to think more about YA. And think I did.

During one of my numerous drives to the hospital last week, the premise for a YA novel surfaced. I say premise because I still have no idea what the actual story will be -- I only have the premise. If you aren't familiar with the concept, the dictionary defines premise as "a proposition supporting or helping to support a conclusion." Yeah.

Since I don't want to talk about my idea just yet, an example of premise would be a young boy wizard goes to a school for wizards. The story is what happens. That's the part I still need.

Nonetheless, this new character has been in my head (not talking much just yet) and during a 5am check on my grandmother, my character spit out a prologue and an opening paragraph. I already have blank spaces because I need to define the thing that makes up the premise, and I'm excited to get online and do some research.

I was about to do just that when suddenly I remembered I'm supposed to be doing research for my other idea. Whoops. So now I know how the rest of you feel.

That's Not the Garbage

2009-12-21T06:00:00.001-06:00

Whew! It's been a long couple days. (I should note I'm writing this Sunday evening and I'm a little loopy). After a roller-coaster of a week (ahem), my grandmother was released from the hospital on Sunday and is now back in her apartment. She's already refered to me as her cook and bottle washer several times, but she enjoyed the first meal I cooked for her so I don't think she'll ride me too hard. ;)

I saw my first snow in almost three years over the weekend and despite my baby-deer-like legs and uncooperative front-wheel-drive vehicle, I made it to all my destinations in one piece. And did I mention I now have a pre-paid cell phone? BIG WEEK.

One hurdle my grandmother and I have yet to comepletely overcome is figuring out how she'll get my attention in the middle of the night if she needs something. For the past ten weeks she's had a button within arm's reach that brings nurses and aides running (in theory anyway) and no matter how nicely she smiled, they wouldn't let her take one home (the button, not the aide, although that could be helpful).

Our solution? A little brass bell.

We're not sure if it'll be loud enough though. While I'm not a deep sleeper, I have learned to sleep through a lot of odd noises and a gentle tinkling in the next room (the bell... the bell...) may not be enough to rouse me. Plus, as you may recall (I can't track down the post, I'm sorry), there are a lot of bells in our neighborhood in the morning -- specifically, the trash collectors -- and I've trained myself to block them out. Hopefully the fancy bell will break through my defenses.

The Mexico City Airport

2009-12-17T07:00:00.000-06:00

I’ve heard horror stories about the Mexico City (DF) airport but aside from ridiculously long waits in between flights, I’ve never really had any problems.

On Friday my plane landed in DF at 11am and I had a whole plan for how I was going to amuse myself until my flight at 3:40pm. I figured my biggest problem would be not falling asleep from sheer boredom and missing my flight.

Let’s just say I didn’t get bored.

When I checked in at the Zihua airport I was told I’d need to get my boarding pass for the connection once I landed. Okay, no big deal. Well, an hour and a half later I finally had that boarding pass and arrived at my connecting gate. The longest I waited in line was maybe five minutes, so that was 85 minutes of schlepping across the DF airport, going from one counter to the next to the next, then yet one more. No one seemed to know exactly where I was supposed to go, but that didn’t stop them from giving me a destination, all of which involved going “way way down there, all the way to the end, then turn left.”

The most bizarre was when I was told I had to go to Terminal One. My instructions were something along the lines of “go way way down, all the way on the left, then go outside and at the very end there’s a white bus.”

“A bus? Not a train?”

“A bus.”

Sure enough, I walked outside (with the cabs, etc) and at the very end was a white bus surrounded by a little rope. Two women sat at a folding table and were checking IDs before you could board. Shortly after I got on the bus took off on the main road that normal cars drive on – not an airport access road. Then someone emerged from behind a bush and opened a large gate and we entered the actual runway. We even had to stop to let planes go by! (This was the point that I started looking around for hidden cameras, convinced we were either filming a movie or I was part of some prank show.) We meandered past hangars and planes and luggage carts. Apparently that was just a shortcut because we came to another gate where we were let back onto the street.

Or we tried to get back onto the street. See, there was a parade going by and no one wanted to let us in. The man who’d opened the gate stepped into the 4-lane road to stop traffic, but they kept driving around him. Finally another bus let us through. A few minutes later we pulled up to Terminal One and I only had to go to two more counters before I finally got my boarding pass.

In the midst of all this I was asking everyone I talked to where I was supposed to get my FM3 visa stamped because I somehow missed that step when I came to the States in August and they didn’t want to let me back in the country. Once again, everyone agreed with me that “yes, you would have problems if you didn’t have it stamped, but I’m not the person who does it, but if you go way down there then turn left, you should find the person that can help you.” I did eventually find the proper counter.

After all that, I still had three hours to kill, then a four-hour plane ride. I’ve never been happier to see cold weather.

What a Weekend!

2009-12-15T11:34:00.001-06:00

Sorry for the silence – I had a whirlwind of a weekend in Chicago, then took the train to Detroit on Monday to see my grandmother and was promptly rerouted to the ER. Nine hours later she finally got a room and my aunt and I were able to get to sleep. As of right now she should be released back to her home on Wednesday so my nursemaid skills (ha) will still be put to use.

Now about this weekend. I flew in Friday night and had dinner with a friend, then breakfast with another friend, and Saturday afternoon the AW mayhem began. Fortunately I’d seen photos of everyone so I was able to spot AB from across the street, I picked Trish out in a crowded room, and fled when I saw the Monkey*. Angie was the sweetest zebra I’d ever met & Ray handled five woman quite well. I’d met Rachel before and we picked right up where we’d left off last September.**

I also squeezed in a visit with my cousin on Sunday evening before joining the AWers again at a dueling piano bar (where we completely took over the joint, naturally). I lost my voice each evening and caught a migraine somewhere between Ohio & Michigan Ave, all of which I blame on the monkey.

The train ride from Chicago to Detroit was nothing like I imagined. There was snow, but the train rocked A LOT and I somehow ended up seated next to the exhaust thingy. Let’s just say I bought breakfast on the train and the breakfast never left the train. Not fun. I haven’t started working on my new novel yet and I think I need a few more days rest before I get to it.

Now, what’d I miss?

* I don’t really have anything to note here, but those of you who know him should understand…
** And that’s all I can say about this weekend in public. ;) Actually, there’s a thread on AW with photos, if you’re so inclined.

All Packed & Ready to Go!

2009-12-11T07:00:00.001-06:00

By 8pm this evening I should* be eating Thai food and doing my best to keep my skin from flaking off. Small sacrifices for a couple weeks at home.

In addition to all the exciting things I mentioned earlier this week, there's a chance I'll get to see several of my friends from MIDDLE school. As in 1990.

Wow!

I should have regular internet access starting Monday, but I plan to cut back my posts to 2-3 times per week. I'll know better once I'm at my grandmother's and settled in. I finished the second draft of After the Fall Wednesday night and word on the street is two of my beta readers have already started reading.

Go beta readers!

Sorry, I'm a little excited. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend, and as for those certain writer friends, I'll see YOU tomorrow!

*Assuming the blizzard takes a breather and allows my plane to land. Cross your fingers people!

Friendly Books

2009-12-10T07:00:00.002-06:00

In honor of my mother's birthday (Happy birthday Mom!), I have books to tell you about!

*****

My friend Kelly Meding's debut novel, Three Days to Dead, came out last week and I've been told there's a copy waiting for me in Chicago. I cannot WAIT!

She’s young, deadly, and hunted—with only three days to solve her own murder…

When Evangeline Stone wakes up naked and bruised on a cold slab at the morgue – in a stranger’s body, with no memory of who she is and how she got there – her troubles are only just beginning. Before that night, she and the other two members of her Triad were star bounty hunters — mercilessly cleansing the city of the murderous creatures living in the shadows, from vampires to shape-shifters to trolls. Then something terrible happened that not only cost all three of them their lives, but also convinced the city’s other Hunters that Evy was a traitor . . . and she can’t even remember what it was.

Now she’s a fugitive, piecing together her memory, trying to deal some serious justice – and discovering that she has only three days to solve her own murder before the reincarnation spell wears off. Because in three days, Evy will die again – but this time, there’s no second chance…

*****

My friend Jennifer Caddell has a short story in the newly released What If?, a collection of science fiction short stories.

A collection of short science fiction stories that finally answer the classic question, What If?

I'm so proud of her. This is her first publication credit and it's a printed book! Much more impressive than a measly online pub. Go Jen!

*****

My friend Stacey Graham has a short story in the zombie anthology, Hungry for Your Love: An Anthology of Zombie Romance.

I'm not a zombie person, but her Zombie Dating Guide (her current wip) has me itching to read about them.

Zombies are everywhere. You can't escape. So you might as well fall in love.

In the pages of HUNGRY FOR YOUR LOVE, the very first zombie romance anthology ever, you'll find romantic stories about loving a zombie, love stories between zombies and a tale of love and lust during the zombie Apocalypse. There are funny zombie stories, a zombie story that will make you cry, and even a few that might make you blush. We have zombie noir and zombie paranormal romance. You will be amazed at the scope of zombie lovin'. There's something for everyone in this star-studded collection, including stories by New York Times best-selling authors John Skipp (writing as Gina McQueen) and Brian Keene.

Be sure to check it out!

Another Peek

2009-12-09T07:00:00.002-06:00

I may be asking for trouble here, but while reading my wip last night I came across this passage and had to share. I think it may be my favorite.

Becca and Justin are seventeen-year old next-door neighbors and she's still freaking out from the attack that I posted on Monday. She has a hard time getting close to him and the past couple times he's tried to kiss her she panicked.

"It's okay," she whispered, and he kissed her. Heat flooded through her and she tightened her grip on his hand. He didn't put his arms around her like he normally did, so she rested her other hand in the crook of his arm and traced his bicep with her fingers. Their lips parted and he pressed harder. Justin's free hand found her thigh and she moved closer, her senses spinning out of control. Something in the back corner of her mind watched over her, waiting for the fear to come. She tried to lose herself in the softness of his lips, in the sigh that came from deep in his throat and mingled with her breath, but the fear wiggled in, a pinprick of light that grew brighter and brighter until her body tensed and sweat trickled down her back. The light blinded her, squeezing her lungs until she thought she might die right there in Justin's arms. But she refused to give in. She loved Justin and couldn't bear to hurt him, to make him feel like he had to pay for his father's sins. She broke away from the kiss and smiled, pretending her chest wasn't about to explode.

Hmm, that's a little steamier than I realized. I also just realized that I'm two for two with sweat trickling down the person's back. I swear this doesn't happen that often.

Again, feel free to leave comments. Now pardon me while I get all smooshy inside.

Tuesday Stuff and Things

2009-12-08T07:00:00.001-06:00

I've got a lot swirling in my head right now because I'm really excited to go home this weekend and nothing coherent is forming for a post so... I'll give you a peek inside my head.

I won't actually go to my HOME until after Christmas, but just being near my friends & family is enough. In addition to the trip itself, the following things keep distracting me from doing anything productive:

- When I arrive on Friday I will finally get to cuddle with my netbook. Squee! I've started taking notes for my new novel and I plan to work on the outline while traveling on Friday. During reading breaks, of course (Middlesex -- loving it).

- On Saturday I'm getting together with six of my writing friends for the very first time. If the conversations over the past couple days are any indication, I may never be the same.

- On Monday I'm taking the train from Chicago to Detroit and my plan is to start writing then. I'll have roughly five hours of uninterrupted ME time (assuming no one interesting sits near me) and the idea of writing on a train while traveling across three states in the snow sounds so magical. Yes, I realize something will likely derail (*snort*) this plan, but I can dream.

- Sometime next week my grandmother will be released home (or into the wild, as I've been joking) and I get her all to myself.

And that's just five minutes worth of swirling. Aside from the general holiday hoopla, do you have anything exciting that you're looking forward to?

Shiny New First Page

2009-12-07T07:00:00.002-06:00

Several writing friends have recently posted excerpts of their wips, and as I tweaked my first page all weekend, I thought I'd share. Please feel free to leave any criticisms -- they help me more than praise. Enjoy.

After the Fall -- Chapter 1

A thump from down the hall echoed into Greg's subconscious and forced his eyes open. He stared at the ceiling, listening to the hush that enveloped the house, and soon the familiar quiet lulled his eyes closed and he burrowed his head deeper into the pillow.

The distinct squeak of bedsprings made him lean up on one elbow. One of the girls must be awake.

A muffled cry made him sit upright.

"Dad—"

Becca! He fumbled for his glasses and scrambled out of bed.

"What's the matter?" Janet rolled towards him, her face buried in the blankets.

"I heard something." He glanced at her arm, draped casually across his pillow, then hurried from the room and rushed down the hall. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his upper lip. It was probably just a bad dream. But she stopped having nightmares years ago.

The nightlight in the bathroom shone onto the carpeted hallway and stopped at Becca's closed door.

Was he overreacting? He reached for the doorknob and stepped into the room.

Moonlight filtered through the curtains and bounced off the bare back of a man bent over his daughter. The man had her upper body pinned beneath him and her legs flailed as she bucked on the mattress.

Oh God!

"Daddy!" she screamed.

The man turned his masked head for a moment but didn't let go.

Greg's stomach rolled but adrenaline propelled him forward and he grabbed the man by the shoulders. With one pull Greg threw him to the ground and lashed out, striking his head, shoulders, neck, until his hands found his way around the man's throat. He turned his head to shield his face from the man's fists and pressed his neck into the carpet. "Becca, are you hurt?"

...

Like a Duck to Water

2009-12-05T07:00:00.001-06:00

Or something like that.

Schnauzers aren't known for their prowess in the water, but apparently no one told my husband because on our last beach outing he decided Owen would learn how to swim.

And swim he did.

Prior to last week the only times I'd seen Owen actually IN the water was when he was itty bitty and Ibis carried him out much farther than I was comfortable with. Since then I've only seen him run along shore, chasing Ibis and barking in this high-pitched yip that sounded more like a squeaky toy than an animal.

I couldn't believe it when I looked out at the water and saw Ibis running backwards in waist-deep water, Owen paddling after him. They went back and forth, back and forth, until me, being the ever-paranoid person that I am yelled for Ibis to give Owen a rest. When they came ashore I asked if Owen seemed like he was having fun or if the look on his face was more of a OMG! OMG! GET ME OUT OF THIS WATER NOW! type thing, and he said it was kind of a combination of the two.

I'm just happy he can swim.

There was also a lot of running, jumping, barking, leaping, and general chaos. And digging. Lots of digging. How the sand only stuck to his nose, I don't know.

I swear he wasn't as miserable as he looks here.

Shiny New Idea

2009-12-04T07:00:00.000-06:00

I haz one.

It's too soon to share details, but I've been hoping something would come to me in time for my trip home, and it has.

Right now I'm getting to know my main character and figuring out the plot. Thinking about the story for several weeks before actually writing worked well for me with NaNo last year, and I'm hoping the same will be true this time around. This is another women's fiction and I'm beginning to think that's my niche.

This makes the third novel idea that's really grabbed me, and as this will be my third novel, I've got my fingers crossed that I can see it all the way through.

Have you had an idea really grab you lately? About anything?

Contents Under Pressure May Grow Abnormaly Large & Scare the Bejeezus Out of You

2009-12-03T07:00:00.001-06:00

Remember the ticks? Do I have a story for you.

First let me explain that we have large sheets of two-inch thick styrofoam on several walls and most of the ceiling. You know how those cheap coolers keep things amazingly cold? Well, we were hoping that sealing ourselves in would have a similar effect and keep the heat OUT. We're on the end of the building so the sun hits us from sun-up to sun-down and the first couple months here were HOT.

The styrofoam does a reasonable job and we've painted it the same color as the walls so most people don't even notice our homemade insulation. (Just ask Mary.) We have to be careful not to bump it because as you may be aware, styrofoam crumbles pretty easily. Even elbows and fingernails can take big chunks out.

Now back to the ticks. About a month ago we had quite a few of the creatures crawling all over our bedroom. Most nights I'd be just getting into bed when I'd see one scurry across the floor, so I'd get up, get a tissue, and toss it in the toilet. I'd get back into bed and STUPIDLY look at the wall and see another one, even though I SWEAR I just checked when I still had a tissue in my hand.

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Well one night I saw one of the black ones that look like a water bug on the wall with the styrofoam and I just couldn't bring myself to get up again so I did what any normal person would do: I shoved it deeper into the styrofoam and blocked it's escape.

This would be the time when you should glance at the title of this post.

Yeah.

Oh... about a week or so later I was making the bed when I noticed a black thing roughly the size of a dime but in DIAMETER emerging from the depths of the styrofoam. I screamed for Ibis and together we stood there, jaws hanging on the floor.

I mean, seriously? What the heck was it eating in there?

He eventually popped it out with a pencil and the mongo-tick joined his brothers in Mexico's water system. We found another one about the same size the following day, and I hope to GOD that's the last we see of those.

*shudders*

Did you know ticks could get that big?

A Subtle Touch

2009-12-02T07:00:00.002-06:00

My time away from my blog last week was well used -- I got through my entire wip (officially Draft Number Two) and I'm almost ready to send it to my next round of beta readers (be warned beta readers).

I've mentioned before that I seem to write cleaner first drafts than I realized, and so often when I'm editing I feel like I'm doing something wrong. I don't cut large chunks of prose, I don't hack away at my characters... things stay pretty close to the way I originally wrote them. But because I hear about my writing friends and their editing processes (procesi?) I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something important.

Well, I finally did some honest to goodness EDITING. I rewrote entire pages. Even -- gasp! -- cut a couple paragraphs! In once instance I actually rewrote a scene from a different point of view. (That was tricky yet surprisingly fun.)

I'm currently beta reading for a friend and once I finish I plan to do another pass on my own wip. I need to tighten the father's POV in the earlier chapters and I'm considering changing up the opening scene. Right now I have him "bolting upright in bed", something I keep hearing is beyond cliche, and I have it so the father hears a commotion down the hall, but the mother, who's sleeping in bed next to him, does not. I think if I have him already awake that will resolve that issue. I'm thinking about having him going to the bathroom but don't really want to open my book with a flushing toilet.

One exciting (to me) thing that happened during my editing is I worked the title of my wip, After the Fall, into the story. I love when I'm reading and I come across the title that way. I always wonder if the author incorporated it after she came up with the title, or if she inserted it like I did. Either way, it always makes me smile, like I'm included in an inside joke.

For my writing friends, do you slip your title into your manuscripts? And you non-writers, do you notice when the title appears in the book you're reading?

Free at Last

2009-12-01T07:00:00.000-06:00

On the heels of yesterday's post (aren't they all?), I have more exciting news: I'm getting one of these:

It's an HP Mini netbook and it should be arriving at my parents' doorstep this afternoon. SQUEE!!

It's roughly 6" x 10" and has a 6.5 hour battery, perfect for long flights and even longer afternoons at the beach. I'm sure many of you already understand the beauty of a laptop so you can sympathize with the fact that for all of my computing life I've been shackled to a desktop computer. A pretty amazing desktop computer, sure, but some days the last thing I want to do is sit at my desk for hours on end.

As you may be aware, I'm a Mac baby, and HP is a PC. I do know how to use Windows (sort of) and since my primary purpose for the netbook will be writing, I'm not too concerned that it's a different operating system than my Mac. I did an informal poll on Facebook and Twitter and almost everyone recommended this netbook PLUS I hear it not only comes with Solitaire, but it also has BEJEWELED!! Double squee!

(In case you live under a rock, I waste hours a day playing Bejeweled.)

My dad is letting me borrow his Verizon card so I'll have internet while I'm staying with my grandmother and since the netbook has a webcam, I'll be able to talk to my honey anytime I want. I mean, I'll be able to write all day. Yeah, that's what I meant.

Ooh, pretty.

White Christmas

2009-11-30T07:00:00.001-06:00

*stretches*

Whew! That was a relaxing break. Did you have a nice holiday? Anything new and exciting to share? A lot has happened in the past week but rather than tell you everything in one post, I'm going to string you along.

The most exciting news is I'm heading home for the holidays!

If you recall, my grandmother had spinal surgery in October, and she's been in and out of the hospital and rehab facility/nursing home ever since. She is healing but will need assistance her first couple weeks back in her apartment, and that's where I come in. My wonderful mother offered to fly me home to play nursemaid/grocery shopper/Christmas-tree decorator/game aficionado for her first couple weeks at home.

My mom and aunt have shouldered the bulk of the responsibility, so my being there will relieve them for a bit and allow them to catch up on two month's worth of work/cleaning/family obligations. I'll fly into Chicago December 11th and because of a trip my parents' already had planned, I won't actually see them until midway through my visit, but I will get to see my aunt and lots of cousins.

Even more exciting, several of my friends from Absolute Write have a get-together planned the same weekend I arrive in Chicago, so I'll get to meet several of my friends! One is staying with me so we'll really get to know each other. ;)

I won't return to Zihua until December 29th and I'm a little concerned about leaving my boys for so long, especially now that Ibis is working again. Owen is used to me being here 24/7 and while Ibis understands that I'm just going for a visit, Owen doesn't seem to understand what I'm telling him. I am leaving the house more often so he sort of gets used to being without me, but there's only so much preparing we can do. Our neighbor has offered to look in on him midway through Ibis' workday, so hopefully that will help.

Now please excuse me while I dig out my sweaters and mittens. :)

See You on the 30th

2009-11-20T07:00:00.001-06:00

I've decided to take next week off from blogging. I figure with Thanksgiving and traveling (you, not me), and who knows what else you all have going on, there won't be many people hanging around. I'll still be here reading your blogs, so for those of you sticking around, I look forward to spending a couple extra minutes with you each day.

Happy Thanksgiving, and if you're traveling, be safe!

C-C-C-Curry

2009-11-19T07:00:00.002-06:00

As promised, I've started cooking again and yesterday I remembered to bring the camera along. We've been craving Thai food since the first week of January, 2007 (we moved here Jan 1st, 2007) and FINALLY have the ingredients to make a proper meal. But it took several friends to make it happen.

Friend of the blog Mary was here last month and our first night hanging out we mentioned how much we missed Thai food, especially curry. Another couple was joining them here two days later, so she emailed them and voila, curry paste.

The coconut milk arrived at my doorstep Wednesday morning via a recent friend we've met around town. She told me last week that she hasn't been able to find it anywhere but she found a stray can in her kitchen and donated it to the cause. How sweet is that? She's heading to Morelia this weekend so we're hoping she brings back a few more cans.

Now, onto the cooking. Via.

This meal was pretty basic: chicken, coconut milk, peanut butter, sugar, curry paste, salt, onion, and rice.

This looks so gross I just had to take a picture. Here I'm simmering the milk, peanut butter, sugar and curry while the rice boils.

Mmm, chicken.

Oh, hi!

The finished product. It wasn't nearly as spicy as we hoped for, but the flavor was awesome and I will definitely make this again.

Word

2009-11-18T07:00:00.001-06:00

I'd like to take a moment to show my appreciation for words. Yes, words. All of them. Long ones, short ones, crazy ones that have all the vowels or happen to end in -ly. (Yes, even those.)

It seems the majority of my waking life revolves around words, whether I'm talking, writing, reading, or playing Scrabble. What would I do without them? I like sports and watching the sunrise, but my mind is always swirling with words, words, words.

One of my favorites is discombobulate: to confuse or disconcert; upset; frustrate. If you knew me in person you might realize that seriously is a word I'd like to say more often, but my loving husband has finally worked out of my system. My most frequent words are probably and uhh -- always used together in the place of silence when trying to keep my train of thought. (Something I lose A LOT.)

What about you? What's your favorite, and which do you say the most? Bonus if it irritates the bejeezus out of someone close to you.

Seriously.

And Poof, It's Gone

2009-11-17T07:00:00.001-06:00

Where did my motivation go? Remember a while back -- you know, on FRIDAY -- when I was all excited about the possibilities at our fingertips? Yeah, now I'm discouraged again. I have a feeling this is going to be a regular thing until we actually find jobs.

Are you Canadian and interested in sponsoring a needy family? Just let me know...

In all seriousness, I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir with most of this. A lot of people are out of work and struggling to not only make ends meet, but keep their sanity, especially as the holidays approach. The only good news is Ibis starts a new job next week so we'll have steady income for the first time since May. Just don't ask how much. Ree-diculous.

When he goes back to work, not only will I have hours and hours to myself, I'll have to resume my cooking duties. As many of you know, my husband is a wonderful cook and when he lost his job, that responsibility fell to him. It's been rather nice having a live-in chef, but I think a paycheck is more important. You can look forward to more cooking photos and/or posts in the near future.

*smiles at the one person who cheered half-heartedly*

My hope is I can get on even more of a schedule than I'm on now so I can finish this draft of my wip, find a job AND cook killer meals. Right.

Do you have any favorite recipes that don't require an oven?

'Tis the Season

2009-11-16T07:00:00.001-06:00

It's that time of year again. The last of the rainclouds have floated away and with the permanent sunshine comes the tourists. In previous winters we've had an average of 1-2 cruise ships per week, but they stopped coming at the end of February, I'm assuming because of the triple whammy that struck Mexico last year: drug violence, swine flu, and the tanking economy.

None of those factors have gone away, but like anything, the more we hear about a problem in the news, etc, the more apathetic we become. People want to get on with their lives and if a cruise along the Pacific coast of Mexico is what they want, they won't let a little danger/sickness/lack of funds stop them!

In all seriousness, we have noticed an increase in the number of non-Mexicans strolling around downtown, even on days when there isn't a floating hotel in the bay.

Do you have any travel plans this winter, or is the economy keeping you home?

This picture was taken from the roof of our building. Not a bad view, eh?

From Puppy to Dog

2009-11-14T07:00:00.001-06:00

When exactly do you start calling a puppy a dog? A year? That seems to make the most sense to me. While I know we're still months away from that transition, we are seeing progress with Owen that makes all our training efforts worthwhile.

He's starting to sit when people come to visit (which is helping with the excitable peeing that keeps happening), he only jumps up once or twice when we have food on the couch, and he doesn't try to eat my ponytail while I'm doing sit-ups. He does still lick my face, but I'll take that.

He still cries like someone just cut his heart out whenever we leave, but I can't expect him to act like a big boy overnight, right? He also makes other animal noise -- cat, bird, turkey, you name it -- but we're hoping those stick around.

*melts*

Have a great weekend everyone!

Making the Most of It

2009-11-13T07:00:00.003-06:00

Since getting the news at the end of September that Ibis would not be allowed into the US, I've experienced pretty much every emotion imaginable. Anger, grief, despair, sadness, frustration -- but also hope.

If you read some of the same blogs I do you may have heard me say that a common theme in my novels in hope, and I think that comes directly from my life. I've always been an optimistic person, someone who tries to see the best in every person and every situation, and the recent events in our lives is no different. Don't get me wrong, I've had many many moments where I question what I'm doing, but I'm figuring out how to move past that and look at the bigger picture.

At a minimum, Ibis won't be allowed into the US for another seven years (realistically it'll be eight or nine) so we need to make fairly long-term plans. I'd like wherever we live next to be our home, not just another place where we serve our time. Yes, it's very hard right now -- searching for jobs in another country is even more deflating than looking in your own city, or even state -- but I try to look at it that in a year, we'll be in a new place with new jobs, finally living our lives.

As I mentioned before, we'd like to move to Canada -- preferably Vancouver, Toronto, Calgary, or Edmonton -- but we're keeping our options open. When the US said no, that opened the door to the entire world. Have you ever dreamed about moving to another country halfway around the world? Well we have that option. Who says we can't move to Europe or Australia? We'll have to go through an immigration process no matter where we go, so why not aim high?

Having this freedom has done a lot for my mental health and I've noticed a huge change in my behavior over the past month and a half. The weight of waiting is off my chest and I'm breathing easier and finally feeling more optimistic about the future.

Where would you move if the whole world was open to you?

Flash Fiction Thursday

2009-11-12T07:00:00.000-06:00

Here's the prompt at Lurker Monkey's blog this month. Spooky, eh?

My story was posted yesterday, but I want to share here since this is my very first scary (or creepy) story. Enjoy.

Entourage

The sludge oozed around my feet, a syrupy slime that congealed around my ankles, chilling me from the inside out. It was getting higher. Just moments before the tips of my toes were still dry, but I could no longer see them through the muddy goop that seeped beneath the door.

The door.

I rested my hand against the splintered wood, then traced my fingers along the rusted metal band that held the planks in place. How long would it hold? The others whispered that nothing could keep it out, that there was no use hoping for escape.

I stepped closer to the door and peered through a small hole near the top, fighting the sludge that clung to my feet and pulled me back down like it didn't want me to see what was coming. An ocean drowned the streets and anything unfortunate enough to be out there when the manhole covers first erupted like a rolling boil, spewing the thick black—what exactly was this? It looked like molasses—sludge into the air. Except it was ice cold.

"Is it bad?"

I turned my head at his raspy voice but ignored his question. He didn't want to know what was out there. Didn't believe it anyway.

A scream made me turn away from the door. The two women huddled against the far wall were scrambling over each other, reaching for the pipe that ran along the length of the ceiling. The younger woman grabbed her friend's shoulder and, with a quick yank to free her feet from the muck, leapt for the ceiling and grasped the pipe.

A deep groan echoed through the dank room.

He turned to face them. "It won't hold you."

The young woman's eyes darted his way, then back to the other woman. "Yes it will. Jump, Matusa."

Matusa swatted at her legs and a tremor ran through her corpulent frame. She looked up at the younger woman and slowly shook her head. Tears slid down her cheeks.

"You can."

It didn't make a difference to me. Dangling from a pipe would only delay the inevitable; fighting for five extra minutes wasn't how I planned to die.

Matusa tried to jump but the sludge had her by the knees.

It was rising faster.

Panic rocked through me and I was sure my heart would stop—it wasn't meant to beat this fast. I glared at him, still smug against the wall, and fought to control my breathing when my skin began to crawl.

I looked down at my own legs, but it wasn't my skin that was crawling.

Tiny white creatures swarmed over my pants, undulating upwards in an eerie dance that mesmerized me. Now I understood the women's screams. They wormed through the hole in the door and I snapped into action, beating my legs, my torso, my arms, desperate to get them off me.

I eyed the pipe. Maybe five extra minutes was worth it.

But it was too late. The powerful sludge pulled at my hips, trapping me next to the door. I cast a desperate glance at him, but it was too late for that, too.

The terrible moaning grew louder and the pipe shattered, sending slivers of metal raining into my flesh, into the sludge.

Unable to move—even my arms were trapped now—I watched the blood trickle down my chest as if it was someone else standing here, some other fool who didn't run when she had the chance. If only he had believed. The metallic odor reached the creatures and they moved faster, devouring the warm liquid that was so different from the muck that carried them here.

The screams began again but I couldn't tear my eyes away from what was happening to me. Was this how they died? I had assumed they drowned, smothered by the sludge—no one said anything about creatures feasting on their flesh. But how could they? There would be no way for that part of the story to pass on to the others.

An unnatural brightness filled the room, and the dark walls became white as the creatures searched for food.

I could hear him choking, gasping. Trying to speak. His voice came out a hiss. "S-s-s-s…sorry."

But it was too late.

Slurp This

2009-11-11T07:00:00.001-06:00

Last night I was scrolling through Twitter for a blog topic when my friend Benjamin mentioned earning a Slurpee if he reached his word count.

Mmm, Slurpees. Wonderful sugar and ice and artificial flavors blended together in the perfect combination to deliver a one-two punch to my throat. (I don't get brain freeze -- I get it in my throat, which really makes a lot more sense if you think about it.)

We may not have Slurpees here, but we have something equally delicious and just as thirst-quenching on a hot sunny day: flavored waters. I know, I know, that doesn't sound very exciting, but they really do call them aguas. I've seen every flavor under the sun -- naranja (orange), piña (pineapple), fresa (strawberry), melón (melon), horchata (rice milk), limón (lime), and the one that always makes me giggle and we probably drink it the most, jamaica (NOT ground-up Jamaicans).

Jamaica (pronounced huh-mai-ka) is made from a dried flower that they boil, similar to the way you make tea, then they add sugar and ice. It's bright reddish purple and very sweet and I can pretty much guarantee if a restaurant serves flavored waters, they have jamaica. You can also buy them from street vendors, but because of the water issues here, I generally only buy them from actual establishments. There's a chain of stores called La Michoacana that sells waters and paletas (popcicles that are the same flavors as the water) and there's one nearly on every corner.

One thing that took me awhile to get used to is while you can get your flavored water in a cup, for the most part they come in a plastic bag. The vendor pours in the liquid, sticks in a straw, then ties a knot about a third of the way down. You then carry it by the knot. The only down side is it's nearly impossible to set them down without spilling, but otherwise it's kind of fun drinking out of a clear plastic bag. I'm especially impressed by how quickly little kids figure it out. You can't walk down the street without seeing someone carrying a bag full of colorful water.

Have you ever drank out of a plastic bag?

gasps for breath

2009-11-10T07:00:00.002-06:00

I don't usually read James Patterson's books, but Sunday I finished reading his latest, Sail, "co-written" by Howard Roughan. It's about a family that goes on a two-month sailing trip and encounters disaster after disaster. The quote on the back says "Written with blistering pace and shocking twists… SAIL takes Lost and Survivor to a new level of terror."

Now, I wouldn't necessarily call Sail terrifying, but it was an exciting read and an interesting story. But I noticed something about the way I was reading that never used to happen to me -- anytime I got caught up in the story and whipped through four or five pages in a blur, I'd stop and marvel at the fact that printed words had me gasping for breath along with the characters.

How'd they (he) do that?

I'd flip back a couple pages and skim over what I'd just read to figure out (or deconstruct as some might call it) exactly how the author elicited a physical response from me, then see if there's a way to do that with my own writing. My current novel is certainly no thriller, but I have some tense scenes that leave my characters struggling for breath and I'd love to cause that reaction in the reader as well.

I have several writing friends who regularly analyze novels to get to the root of what the author is doing and see how they can learn from that process. It's always seemed like a lot of work to me, but for the first time I understand how it can be useful to me as a writer.

Thanks Mr. Patterson!

Do you analyze books that you read for pleasure, or do you keep your writing and reading minds separate?

***

My niece turns sixteen today, so if you live in Michigan, keep a close eye on your rearview mirror! Happy birthday!

Do As I Say...

2009-11-09T07:00:00.002-06:00

Last week I talked about having common sense when posting things on the internet and reminded everyone that nothing is private -- that it can be seen by anyone and everyone. On Sunday that point was brought home for me.

On Friday I wrote about a US airman who was killed in Ciudad Juarez, and Sunday afternoon a friend of that person commented on that post. Despite my efforts to choose my words carefully, I still managed to upset this person.

*waits while you read the comment, if you so choose*

Now, I could get defensive and huff and puff that this person doesn't know me and clearly hasn't read my other posts, but what happened proves my point exactly. Even though I take care to present myself in a way that would never require an apology on my part, that very thing happened. If you google the incident, that blog post shows up. People who normally would never stumble across my blog -- like the airman's friends and family -- are introduced to me via that post. It's not their responsibility to skim through old posts to get a better understanding of where I'm coming from, it's my responsibility to make sure I'm clear the first time around.

I apologized in my comments and I meant it. Of course I'm not glad anyone died. Perhaps I've grown too cynical since moving here, but that doesn't mean I feel anything other than sadness when innocent victims are killed.

Working Like a Dog

2009-11-07T07:00:00.002-06:00

My recent lack of activity aside, Ibis and I are both very athletic and try to get some form of exercise every day, or at the very least several times a week. We enjoy a variety of sports/activities -- volleyball, tennis, rollerblading -- and actually like going to the gym on a regular basis. So it's only fitting that we'd expect the same from our dog, right?

Owen is over four months old now, so we figured there's no time like the present!

First I went over his workout regimen.

Then I got him started on neck and back exercises.

Next up: loosening those teeth! (He lost three more Thursday & Friday)

Survey says: he likes it!

Sure, it only weighs a couple ounces and squeaks, but you have to start someplace.

US Airman Killed in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico

2009-11-06T07:00:00.001-06:00

I saw this headline Thursday morning and my first thought was Good. Not good that anyone was killed, but if an American is going to get caught in the drug violence, better it be a member of the US armed service because it'll be harder for it to be swept under the rug.

From the AP:

A gang of gunmen killed an off-duty U.S. airman and five other people early Wednesday at a bar in the Mexican border city of Ciudad Juarez, authorities said.

There was no immediate information on a motive for the attack that killed the U.S. airman at the Amadeus bar in Ciudad Juarez, which also left a seventh person wounded, said Arturo Sandoval, a spokesman for prosecutors in northern Chihuahua state. But the methods bore the hallmarks of attacks by drug cartels.

Staff Sgt. David Booher, assigned to the medical unit of the 49th Fighter Wing at Holloman Air Force outside Alamogordo, New Mexico, about 90 miles (145 kilometers) north of Ciudad Juarez, was among those killed in the bar, the U.S. Air Force said.

Earlier this year, the 12th Air Force barred airmen from traveling in Mexico's Chihuahua state. Soldiers from Fort Bliss, just outside El Paso, Texas, across the border from Juarez, also are barred from going to Chihuahua.

I'm very curious to see how both the US and Mexican presidents respond to this attack. Aside from a couple articles online, it seems to be quiet. I'll be very disappointed if nothing is done, even if it was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I Got the Hummus

2009-11-05T07:00:00.001-06:00

It sometimes surprises me what foods I miss from the US. The everyday comforts from home we can get here, so it's the little things -- Triscuits, Reece's Peanut Butter Cups, dill pickles -- that I find myself longing for.

The latest: hummus.

When I was in Chicago someone told me an easy recipe and the search was on for the ingredients, or substitute ingredients since some of you may recall, Mexico doesn't have lemons. (At least not where I can find them.)

My ingredient list:

2 cans garbanzo beans*
5 cloves of garlic**
1/2 cup lime juice
1 heaping teaspoon of peanut butter***
1/4 cup oil
salt to taste

* These were HARD to find. They are not in the special bean aisle (there's an entire aisle for beans) but next to the olives. Or what I call "the aisle for food only tourists eat."

** This was too much. I'll go for 3-4 next time.

*** Because we don't have tahini.

It turned out MUCH better than I expected, especially for my first attempt, and I'm excited to make it again (once we finish the garlic-fest going on in the refrigerator).

All this talk of hummus always makes me think of a famous Spanish song:

Which then makes me think of one of my favorite Marc Anthony songs, one that EVERYONE is the club always wanted to dance to (his hair is PRETTY in this):

So what do you like to eat with hummus?

(Once again -- major props to anyone who can name the Friends episode that I stole the title of this post from.)

Priorities

2009-11-04T07:00:00.001-06:00

My plans for editing alongside the NaNo participants is not going very well. I went through the entire document on Monday, but Sunday and Tuesday were both a bust (busts?). Fortunately I have good reasons for not cracking the wip yesterday.

First, I found a job site that has a TON of listings that I wasn't finding on a combination of other sites. The woman in charge of hiring at a place in Vancouver told me about it and I applied to five jobs yesterday. The most I've found in one day up until this point is two or three, so that made me very happy. Of course now I have to actually hear back from these people, but just finding jobs that interest me is a good feeling.

Second, I not only had breakfast plans with a new friend, our American neighbor is back in town and we ended up going to lunch with her. Meals in Mexico usually take a couple hours, and combined with several hours applying for jobs (plus the regular nonsense that eats up my time) I was too tired by the end of the day to edit.

A wise friend pointed out that any edits done while exhausted will most likely require even more editing, so I allowed myself the night off. I feel guilty, but the job search needs to come first.

If you're a writer, how is your writing coming along? And a complete tangent -- can you believe it's been a YEAR since Obama was elected? Crazy

Too Much of Anything...

2009-11-03T07:00:00.001-06:00

I've officially started the second draft of After the Fall, which means that so far I've transferred my beta's comments into the "Second Draft" file and made all the easy changes. Today I'll begin the actual rewriting/editing. This may sound odd to some people, but I like to have everything prepared before I dig in -- the same way I like to have all the ingredients spread out on the counter when I'm cooking.

In my first novel, The Other Side, a kind beta reader pointed out (very gently) that everyone was "looking" waaaaay too often. Sure, there was an occasional glance or gaze, but the majority of their gestures focused on (*snort*) their eyes.

This time around, my characters' main problem seems to be their hair. (Sorry with the puns -- I amuse easily, remember?) The stroke it, twirl it, and the most common offense, they run their fingers through it. Over and over and over. Perhaps this is because I tend to play with my hair a lot, plus one of my characters is a teenager girl and I know they can't keep their hands off their tresses.

Whatever the reason, I need some new gestures. I did a Find and made the comment "HAIR!" at every instance. There were a lot. I also discovered that I use the word "chair" a lot, but since they only rake their fingers through a chair once, I don't think it'll be a problem.

(I also discovered that including a space before and after the word you're searching will prevent this from happening.)

I'm sure I've asked about gestures that you overuse, so do you have any that struck you as really funny, or completely impossible?

A Little Common Sense Please

2009-11-02T07:00:00.002-06:00

You see a lot of chatter online about how easy the internet makes it for people to spout off without consequence, and how many people hide behind an anonymous username to bash, trash, or thrash whatever happens to piss them off that day.

What bothers me are the people who seem to forget they're posting things ON THE INTERNET. This applies mostly to facebook, as people who have blogs do realize that anyone can find their posts, but I see it all over the place. People complaining about day-to-day things, like a crowded bus or slow person in line ahead of them, that make me want to smack the person upside the head and tell them to be grateful for what they have. I want to pull these people aside and tell them "you have access to public transportation, you have money to stand in line to buy something, you're healthy enough to be doing these things in the first place."

I get that a side effect of living in a first-world country is people take things for granted, but I wish these people would realize how ungrateful they appear. I have several hundred friends on facebook and the majority have a balance between positive and negative -- it's only a handful who don't seem to realize how they sound to the rest of the world. I know that with facebook only your "friends" can see what you post, but I'm guessing they present themselves in a similar manner everywhere else.

I don't mean for this to come off as a rant about facebook, and I'm not trying to single anyone out. My point in all this is to remind everyone that the next time a stranger upsets you -- whether they moved too slowly, reacted in a way you didn't appreciate, or committed some other unforgivable social offense -- take a moment and put yourself in their shoes. Maybe the slow person has a migraine and is moving as quickly as she can, or the cranky-pants the next car over is worried about his mother in the hospital. Whatever.

I'm guilty of this too -- I get worked up far too easily over stupid things -- but I don't turn around and blast that person all over the internet. I complain to my husband or a friend and then I MOVE ON. Yes, I occasionally post complaints, but it's usually a general thing and never hurtful. I try very hard to live my life in a way that I won't regret anything and I hopefully won't have to apologize for something I did or said. I know that's a lot to ask of people, but I'm hoping this serves as a reminder to think a moment or two before telling the internet about the latest idiot in line next to you.

(As a side note, I'm not talking about people who complain that they're stuck in traffic, it's the ones who wonder "WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE TO DRIVE HOME AT THE SAME TIME AS ME???" every day.)

Exercising With a Puppy

2009-10-31T06:58:00.003-06:00

I stopped going to the gym when I went home at the end of August (long story) so now all my exercise is done at home. I still do Jillian Michael's 30-Day Shred series, and while I often yell at her during the routine, I now have someone else to yell at too.

Owen.

Seems jumping around is puppy code for LET'S PLAY! LET'S PLAY! BITE ME! LET'S PLAY! It only took one well-timed jumping jack with him between my feet to stop him from getting too close during cardio, but it seems nothing will keep him away when I'm doing sit-ups.

He starts innocently enough. First he meanders over (or pounces, depending on how sleepy he is) then plops onto my belly. This is the preferred position. I can still do sit-ups with him lying on me, and he doesn't weigh much so it doesn't slow me down.

But the belly sitting doesn't last long. After maybe five seconds he scoots forward until we're nose to nose and he snuffles my face. Doesn't matter which part -- whatever's closest works. I, in turn, laugh (read: giggle) which is puppy code for STRANGE NOISE! COMING FROM MAMA! LICK! BITE! SNUFFLE!

At this point I push him off me -- still trying to do my sit-ups (I'm following along with a video here) and he burrows his nose in -- you guessed it -- my armpit. Aside from the gross-factor, it also tickles, which causes more giggles and usually an unintentional elbow to his head. I push him away again and he moves around to...

*cue harps and angels singing*

MY PONYTAIL!

Game over. Have you ever tried doing a sit-up with an animal clinging to your head? It's really not as effective as you might think. Fortunately at this point the video has moved on to the next round of cardio, at which point Owen backs off and regroups until it's time for sit-ups again.

The last time I worked out I finally put him on his leash and tied him to a chair just out of reach, so instead of him attacking me, he talked to me the entire time. At least he was encouraging during the sit-ups. :P

Who me?

Here he is acting all innocent while visiting friends earlier this week.

sigh

2009-10-30T06:00:00.000-06:00

I tried to write a post for today, I really did, but I have too many other things on my mind. Instead, can I just ask that you'll please think positive thoughts for one of my family members? It's been a stressful week for several of them (including three separate car accidents), but one in particular has me worried.

Thanks.

That Writing Thing

2009-10-29T06:00:00.002-06:00

I know I haven't talked about writing much here in the past week or so, and that's because I'm giving myself a little distance from my wip, After the Fall, until I finish a tutorial for Flash. I have two chapters left in that book, so I plan to start the second draft this weekend.

Ironic that it coincides with NaNo, no? A lot of my friends are doing NaNo this year and of course a teeny part of me wishes I were too. Just a teeny part though. Instead, I've decided to try to get through the second draft in one month. There are roughly 30 chapters so it should break down okay (aside from the fact that in addition to working by chapters, I also do several passes for particular problems) and I'd love to have a shiny new draft come December 1st.

Giving me a nice kick in the pants, as usual, Erica Orloff's blog post yesterday talked about perfecting your pitch and she critiqued our 45-word pitches in the comments. Even if you aren't at that point yet, it's helpful to see what works and what doesn't, and at 45 words each (or less), it's not too cumbersome.

After the Fall has three point-of-views, and I can't decide which I prefer:

When Greg Vandenberg kills a masked intruder who's attacking his daughter, the community calls him a hero. But the intruder is revealed as his best friend and neighbor and the two families find themselves on opposite sides of the tragedy, both struggling to understand what drove the man to attack.

*****

Becca Vandenberg wakes up to find a masked man trying to rape her, and is saved when her father kills the man. But the intruder is revealed as her neighbor and father of the boy no one knows she's dating, and she fears their secret may have driven the man to attack.

*****

When Carol Stevens hears that her husband had "an accident" at the neighbor's house, she assumes he died of natural causes. But he was killed while trying to rape their friend's daughter, and now she's the only one left to protect her children from a community hellbent on crucifying their father's memory.

What do you think?

Overload

2009-10-28T06:00:00.002-06:00

It's been a busy couple days -- for me anyway -- and you'd think I'd have plenty to talk about, but I'm drawing a complete blank. I've played even more games, Owen's lost more teeth, we've had a couple crazy thunderstorms, and my computer almost died, yet nothing is inspiring me for a post.

Seems to be contagious among my blogging friends.

Maybe it's because we had daylight savings on Sunday while the US doesn't switch until this coming weekend. It's been dark when I get up and perhaps that's screwed up my head. Who knows...

So, do you have plans for Halloween?

Cribbage

2009-10-27T06:00:00.003-06:00

Have you ever played cribbage?

My sister taught me while I was visiting over Labor Day weekend, and to say we played non-stop would be a bit of an understatement. We get a tad obsessive about our games -- years ago it was gin rummy, and for the past several years it's been Scrabble. But now... ahh, cribbage.

I bought a version to bring back with me and forced Ibis to play, but we never made it past that first attempt. I was sure he'd like it because you use cards and a board (you don't get bored with one or the other) and it's all strategy, which he loves, but he couldn't get into it. A lot of it was my fault because I was still learning and it's tough to play when neither of you are very comfortable with the rules, but either way, we haven't played since.

Yesterday we hung out with our friends at their hotel (on the HUGE patio) and it wasn't long before someone busted out the cribbage board. Be still my beating heart. We played until it was too dark to see and dinner was ready, and I'm proud to say I held my own with guys who have been playing for years.

Today I'm bringing my new board for a rematch.

Do you have any games you're addicted to, or that you always play when you get together with friends and family?

NoNoNoNo

2009-10-26T06:15:00.000-06:00

As my writing friends are aware, November is National Novel Writing Month, more commonly known as NaNoWriMo, or NaNo, and it's an annual challenge to write a 50,000 word novel in one month. The biggest complaint I've heard (from publishing industry people) is that far too many of those writers then begin querying their novels on December 1st.

Those who know better (ahem *straightens lapels*) write another 20,000 words, minimum, then write several more drafts before declaring the novel complete. I participated for the first time last year and by November 30th I had 63,000 words. I didn't pick it back up until mid-summer, and I finished the first draft last month. Yes, I'm talking about After the Fall.

I've heard a lot of complaints about NaNo -- aside from the querying gripe -- and the most common is that "forcing yourself to write that many words daily" is just teaching bad habits. NaNo's manta is to let yourself write crap (or at least that's how I remember it) and these naysayers seem to think that no one is capable out a high daily output that's not crap.

Well I think that's crap.

Buzz on the street (ie the internet) is that professional writers, those who have a new book or two published every year, regularly write that much per day. 2000 words is roughly 6 pages, and if you're writing a 300-page book (*busts out calculator*) it would take 50 days to write 100,000 words. Now obviously most people won't keep up that pace, but even if you add a month or two extra, the quantity doesn't seem that far-fetched.

What I took away from NaNo is the knowledge that I can write 2000 words per day. Sure, I need to break my writing sessions into two or three sittings, and actually getting up from my desk is important, but I can do it.

That said, this year... I'm not doing it. I'm looking forward to the edits on "nanonovel08", as I lovingly called it while writing last November, and I'm not ready to start a new idea. To all of you who are -- GOOD LUCK!!

Already?

2009-10-24T07:00:00.001-05:00

Friday morning I woke up and discovered Owen is missing THREE teeth. Three! I knew they start losing them around four months, and as he turned four months on Thursday that makes sense, but I didn't expect him to be so prompt.

He was half asleep here and didn't want me to open his mouth, but there's a red spot where his top tooth fell out (to the left of the tooth you CAN see). The two bottom front ones are also gone.

Last night our friend Mary, her husband, and another couple came over for dinner and after a couple hours of running from person to person to person, then Oh! back to another person, Owen crashed.

Ponderings

2009-10-23T07:00:00.001-05:00

I thought I'd give you an update on my second novel, After the Fall. I finished the first draft several weeks ago, then sent it to my beta reader, who sent back some wonderful advice. She'd also read The Other Side so I felt comfortable sending a relatively unpolished early draft, along with several questions about voice, plot, etc.

Then I decided to put it away for a couple more weeks.

I'm currently working through Peachpit Press's Hands-On-Training: Flash CS3 Professional and I've decided that my writing energy (or really, my creative energy) will go to that. Once I've finished the tutorial, I'll start the second draft of After the Fall.

That decision is working well for me, as I'm two-thirds of the way through it, but I've noticed something interesting: my characters are talking to me again. Or if not talking (since as I told Jenna, they don't really do that) but they're living their lives and rearranging scenes that need reworking. It's very considerate of them.

I'd gotten into the habit of thinking about the upcoming scene before getting out of bed, that way as soon as I sat down I could write without getting stuck, and apparently it's the habit that's stuck. This morning I kept replaying the final scene -- one that needs tweaking and I know exactly how, but I haven't touched the file -- and at this point it's so locked in my head I don't even need to take notes. Some of the bigger issues, like making the male POV sound more fatherly, still need more thought, and I'm hoping I can focus these morning ponderings on his perspective.

It's nice actually looking forward to edits, and it's giving me extra motivation to finish the Flash book.

The War of Art Giveaway

2009-10-22T07:00:00.003-05:00

My cousin Jenna is giving away copies of Steven Pressfield's The War of Art TODAY!

Pressfield's weekly writing post, Writing Wednesdays, discusses how writers can, among other things, get over resistance -- the thing that keeps us from living the life we want to live (or something along those lines).

Jenna interviewed him and asked him about "mastering fear, getting past those "draw novels", and themes." Run on over and check it out, then leave a comment to be entered in the drawing for a free copy of The War of Art.

I'm Healed!

2009-10-21T07:00:00.000-05:00

Well, sort of.

I saw the doctor Tuesday evening and after a couple minutes of poking, he declared me fine. I have to keep putting ointment on it for another three weeks, which means STILL no swimming or beachy things, and I still have to wear a band-aid, but I don't have to go back to his office.

Yay!

We didn't discuss why he wasn't there on Friday, and frankly, I didn't have the energy to ask. I'm just glad this is almost over.

Tuesday Stuff and Things

2009-10-20T07:00:00.001-05:00

I haven't done one of these in awhile, and since I'm having trouble forming a thought long enough to make up an entire blog post, you get odds and ends.

*****

As of Saturday, we finally have a wash basin/tub that's large enough to hold water AND ME! We bought it so we have something large enough to hold Owen (we've been washing him in a bucket up until now) but if I sit with my legs crossed I can finally cool off in a "pool."

Only problem -- we haven't figured out an effective way to empty it.

*****

I was supposed to go to the doctor last Friday to get a check-up on my toe, but when I arrived I was told he'd already left for the day. They didn't call because "they don't have my number," which isn't true, and told me to come back on Monday.

We called several times on Monday to confirm, but no one answered and so I didn't go. We plan to try again today.

It seems to be healing nicely and I've made the executive decision to switch from the large bandage that requires lots of tape to a regular old band-aid. Now I can shower multiple times a day. Or go in a "pool".

*****

We have friends in town! Regular reader and commenter Mary is here with her husband and we've already gotten together twice. We met them during their stay last year (they stayed where Ibis was working) and now they're back!

Mary is the first blog reader to have the honor of meeting Owen, and so far everyone seemed to like each other. :)

*****

My grandmother is recovering well from spinal surgery and last week moved from the hospital to an assisted living/rehab place where she will have physical therapy, etc. We're all very relieved that things seem to be going so well.

*****

Finally, we still have bugs, although not as bad, and I'm itchy.

*****

What's new with you?

Hurricane Rick?

2009-10-19T07:00:00.001-05:00

Saturday afternoon I was minding my own business, playing my 114th game of Bejeweled, when a dark cloud swallowed the sky, the wind blew away every piece of paper on my desk, and it started raining inside. Or something to that effect. I closed the doors and windows, turned on the lights, and continued with my game.

About an hour later Ibis returned from the beach, much drier than I'd expected. He and his friends had taken cover beneath a palapa -- well actually, he put his things beneath a palapa while HE swam in the NINE-FOOT WAVES. We both agreed there must have been quite a storm over the ocean. For fun, I checked out weather.com and look what I found:

Well look at that. It's a CATEGORY 5 HURRICANE and we knew nothing about it. But Rick? Really? As I read the reports a comment from He-Robin from Saturday suddenly made sense. I thought he mistook my dog's name for Rick and couldn't understand why he thought our puppy looked mean, when actually he was warning me of impending doom. Ohhhhh. Gotcha.

Then my sister-in-law-in-law (if that makes sense) pointed me to a cool website called stormpulse that tracks storms over the different oceans. That site showed me this:

I screen-captured these on Sunday afternoon, a full day after Rick passed by, but trust me when I say I couldn't have been more surprised to see the EYE OF THE STORM directly off the coast of Zihuatanejo. Yikes!

By Sunday the sky was once again clear, most of the rain had evaporated, and it was business as usual.

Leaps & Bounds

2009-10-17T07:00:00.000-05:00

So much love. I just can't get over it. :)

We had a big milestone this week -- Owen learned how to jump onto the couch! He's been pulling himself up for quite awhile, much like a toddler, and a couple nights ago launched himself and almost made it on top. He just couldn't figure out how to pull himself up.

Later that day we got him all riled up where he runs in circles around the condo, hurdling chairs and diving under the coffee table, and he LEAPED into Ibis's lap. On the couch. I think Owen was more surprised than we were!

He can't do it every time but I'm sure in another week he won't think twice about it. Other big things: he can stay, he wakes us up to go outside, and he's figured out that there's no sense following me into the kitchen because he gets NOTHING. Ibis on the other hand...

This is Really Starting to Tick Me Off

2009-10-16T07:00:00.002-05:00

Can you guess what these are?

If you've been following along on Twitter or are my friend on Facebook then you might guess that these are ticks. I pulled these off Owen in the space of about half an hour, and removed the same amount the day before (then again later after this picture was taken). I put water in the bowl because it's easier to drop them in there, and this way I don't have to squish them and they can't run away. I just have to keep Owen from drinking the water.

He's had bugs since we first got him, so we check him daily for little critters. (He's surprisingly well-behaved while we do it, too. Yesterday he even fell asleep while I was attacking his face.) After one particularly disgusting excavation about a month ago, we thought we had them all and didn't see any for several weeks. Well, it looks like the new litter is here. And now they're attacking us.

We've tried everything short of bug bombing the house, and that's only because I haven't figured out if they actually sell bug bombs here. We've bleached the floor countless times, torn apart the bedroom, washed the curtains... you get the idea. And they still keep coming back.

Since I'm picking them off him with my fingernails -- don't worry, they're just on the surface of his skin -- inevitably one or two ends up crawling on me, and now I have the constant sensation that creepy crawlies are on me. It doesn't help that I have lots of moles and freckles.

Right arm:

Left arm:

Do you have any suggestions for non-toxic remedies, both for Owen and the house? So far people have suggested feeding him garlic, washing him in dish soap and/or flea & tick shampoo (which we do have), and giving him an oral pill (which we're looking into). My preferred option is MOVING, but we need something a little more short-term.

Thanks.

ETA: LurkerMonkey just informed me that my short story is up at his blog today.)

Room Temperature

2009-10-15T07:00:00.001-05:00

I try to keep a balance of writing posts and Mexico posts, and I feel like lately I've been a bit heavy on the writing side. While wracking my brain for a Mexico topic -- considering I only leave the house once or twice a week -- my gaze fell upon a tray of eggs sitting on the dining table.

You see, they'd been there since the day before, and it didn't bother me that they weren't in the fridge. Sure, it crossed my mind a hundred different times that I should put them away, but that was more out of a need to be organized than wanting the eggs to be cold. We buy them at both the market and the grocery story and neither place refrigerates them, and since we haven't gotten sick yet, I don't worry about it.

Next up is milk. I think I've mentioned here before that the majority of the milk sold in Mexico is sold at room temperature, and if you've ever traveled to Mexico you've probably seen this for yourself. When we first moved here we bought the refrigerated milk that comes in plastic containers like in the US, but quickly discovered it went bad within a day or two. I forget how we switched, but now we buy the one liter cartons and generally have two or three in the fridge at one time.

Despite the fact that it's stored on a shelf, it doesn't taste any different. In fact, I think it lasts longer than "regular" milk back home. Perhaps the smaller size means you finish it faster & it doesn't have a chance to spoil.

The strangest experience I've had here is still my first week in Mexico, before I'd actually moved here. We were staying with Ibis' aunt in Morelia and even though she had a refrigerator, she stored all her leftovers on the dining room table, still in their pans. If you wanted to eat something, you just set it on the stove, warmed it up, then returned it to the table. I was a little concerned about getting sick, but again, I was fine, so maybe they're on to something here.

I will say I had a hard time drinking her milk. She kept it in a tall metal container ON THE TABLE and when you wanted some, say for cereal or coffee, you poured it through a strainer TO CATCH THE CHUNKY FILM that solidified over the top since the last person set it there.

I do draw the line there.

Do you have any strange refrigeration stories you'd like to share?

(fyi -- The power came back at 6pm Wednesday night, nearly TWO DAYS after it went out.)

A Minor Rant

2009-10-14T07:00:00.001-05:00

I planned to write today's post about the curiosities of Mexican refrigeration compared to US standards -- what things go in the fridge, which do not -- but then we lost power. Monday afternoon I had just finished doing whatever it was I was doing and got up to make lunch when that dreadful pinging sound came from the fuse box. Kind of like a shock from static electricity.

Yes, the power was out. Again.

We waited the ten minutes it normally takes to come back, and when we heard music coming from our neighbor's house I asked Ibis if we'd paid the bill. Now, some of you have heard me complain about this before and are probably wondering why we never pay our electric bill on time. Thing is, they used to put the bills on the meter, then they started putting them on our door/mailbox, and apparently now they're back on the meters. The meters are around the side of the building and half-covered with plants, so they aren't very easy to see, plus the billing cycle is every two months, so it's easy to lose track.

The last time this happened was right when I got back from my trip home, which was roughly a month ago, which also means something is off. We shouldn't have gotten disconnected until NEXT month.

Anyway, Ibis went down to the electric company and paid the bill, but instead of it coming back on within half an hour, we STILL don't have power over 24 hours later. Around 6pm Monday evening he ran an extension cord rigged from our downstairs neighbor's house that runs through our window and keeps the fridge running. And a fan, a light, and as of Tuesday, our computers. I'm writing this on Tuesday evening, and the latest from the electric company is we'll get it back Wednesday.

Since we have the extension cord we're really not THAT inconvenienced, but it would be nice to be able to turn on a light and do laundry. Or use the blender or coffee pot. Or watch TV.

*sigh*

Yes, I've made a note when to pay the bill next, and we'll start checking for the bills in a couple weeks.

/rant

My Workspace

2009-10-13T07:00:00.001-05:00

Adam at Editing Hat and Stacey at Flibbity Gibbit have both posted pictures of their workspace and inspired me to do the same.

First of all, this is pretty much what it always looks like, give or take a plate or book. Now for some explanation:

> The white books on the left are my web design tutorials. I'm studying Flash now and I'm using the Dreamweaver book to prop it up while I read.

> The two plastic bottles are filled with sand and serve as hand weights. I sometimes lift them while reading stuff online. The wristbands are because I have weak wrists & they sometimes hurt if I've been mousing a lot.

> The speakers are so I can hear the Bejeweled guy say "Excellent!" really, really loudly.

> Notepads, pen, and highlighter are all self-explanatory.

> The purple cup is ALWAYS full of water.

> And finally, Owen. He's normally on the floor directly beneath my chair, but I put him there so I could get a closer shot of the desk.

Care to play along? If you post a picture, leave a comment so I know to check it out!

The End: Part Three

2009-10-12T07:00:00.001-05:00

Last Thursday I typed The End at the end of my first draft of After the Fall, then Friday I added a scene that helped wrap up the climax -- totaling another 1300 words -- then I spent all day Saturday doing a "quick" read-through so it would be coherent for my beta reader. Thirteen hours and another 800 words later, I sent it off.

At 88,500 words, this time I really mean The End.

During my marathon reading/editing session I kept having that strange sensation that while I knew I wrote what I was reading, it didn't feel like I wrote it. But in a good way. There were a few loose ends I needed to fix (hence the additional 800 words) but for the most part everything seemed to mesh. And I didn't even hate the final page. (I usually hate my endings.)

My plan is to give myself a break from After the Fall and concentrate on getting better with a couple web design programs and continuing my job search. And doing another round of edits in The Other Side. Have I mentioned that? A trusted friend and published author suggested that the voice wasn't quite there, that it sounded a little too much like me and not enough like a nineteen-year old Mexican man, so I'm going to go through it one more time. Then go back to querying.

So how was your weekend?

What a Crybaby, Part 2

2009-10-10T07:00:00.000-05:00

Our first video of Owen! You might want to shove a cotton ball or two in your ears before listening -- he's hitting an octave that sopranos can only dream of.

The End

2009-10-09T07:00:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I wrote over 3,000 words and then I wrote the best two of my story -- The End. Yay! It's only the first draft and I have a list of things I need to go through and tweak before I send it to my first beta reader, but the bulk of the story is there.

I wrote the first page of the final chapter on Tuesday, and yesterday I was determined to get through a little more, even if I didn't finish. I knew that in addition to the final scene (which I envisioned when I first came up with the idea), I needed to find a way to explain WHY everything happened. I was thinking about that while I worked on that final scene when it suddenly hit me. I backtracked a couple pages and 2,000 more words flew out of me. Flew. It was one of the few times I can recall writing fiction and not being able to type fast enough. I think it was partly because that section was all dialogue, which comes much easier to me. I get how people talk.

(And I also get how people ramble. Man, focus much?)

Another thing I want to share is something strange that happened on Tuesday. I was writing a scene that takes place in the local hospital of my hometown (my book takes place there) and later that day my mom emailed me that she'd been in the hospital for an appointment earlier that day. Meaning she was IN THE HOSPITAL AT THE EXACT TIME I WAS WRITING A SCENE IN THE HOSPITAL. My characters may have walked right by her!

As Jim Carrey would say: Spooky!

Actually, that scene takes place a month from now, so they wouldn't have actually seen each other, but still. :P

ETA: I received an email this morning that my grandmother's surgery went well. It started later than we expected so it wasn't finished until early this morning. Thanks for the well wishes everyone!

No Reply

2009-10-08T07:00:00.001-05:00

It's been several years since I've applied for a job, and in the meantime I've filled my head with endless amounts of information about the publishing industry. How to write the perfect query letter, how to self-edit, what is a normal amount of time to wait (for a variety of things), and the big question that causes endless amounts of debate -- should an agent respond to every single query?

We can discuss this all day (personally I've queried agents who work both ways) but my point today is that now, as I'm sending out resumes and query -- er, cover -- letters I've forgotten what the standard protocol is. Do potential employers respond to everyone? Do they send a "no thanks" email? Or do they save their time and energy for the applicants they're interested in, leaving the others to wallow in eternal no-man's-land?

I'm thinking it's option 3. It makes sense, especially in this economy*, because I can only imagine how many responses they get to a single job posting and it'd be ridiculous for them to reply to everyone. (Which also gets me thinking about agents again, and why it is we expect them to respond to EVERY query, but I said I wasn't going there today…).

One job I've applied for DID say they'll only contact those who are short-listed, and at least they gave a time frame.

So am I right? Do employers only reply to those they're interested in?

*A blogger that I follow regularly always says IN THIS ECONOMY! anytime he refers to the current economic problems, and it took all my will power not to type that above. Writing it here seems to be enough to get it out of my system.

Finally, please send good wishes to my grandmother. She's having spinal surgery today.

Music to My Ears

2009-10-07T07:00:00.000-05:00

I sometimes have a hard time explaining to people why I don't like living in Mexico. They see beaches, warm weather, and a relaxed atmosphere -- all of which are plentiful where I live -- but that's the tourist view. Living here is much different.

I've debated writing about those things that I don't like. Of course I could do without the violence, and I think it's clear how I feel about THE HEAT, THE HEAT, GOOD GOD, THE HEAT, but I don't think I've gone into much detail about the other reasons.

Well, during my Canadian research I came across a section titled Important Social Standards. These might seem obvious to most of my readers, and you may find yourself wondering why this even needs to be spelled out, but LET ME TELL YOU, the rest of the world does not function this way. (I don't mean to insult anyone's intelligence or world experience -- I'm sure a lot of you are aware that the US is not the center of the universe.)

Here's the portion of the list that had me longing to be anywhere but here:

1) Lining up or queuing: People normally line up or queue according to the principle of “first-come, first-served.” They will be angry if you push ahead in a lineup instead of waiting your turn.

2) Not smoking in private homes: Most Canadians do not smoke. When you are in people’s homes, you should always ask their permission to smoke. If they do not smoke themselves, they may ask you to go outside to smoke.

3) Being on time: You should always arrive on time — at school, at work and for any meeting. People who are often late may be fired from their jobs or suspended from school. Many Canadians will not wait more than 10 or 15 minutes for someone who has a business meeting. For social events, people expect that you will arrive within half an hour of the stated time.

4) Respect for the environment: Canadians respect the natural environment and expect people to avoid littering (dropping waste paper and other garbage on the street or throwing it out of your car). They expect you to hold on to your garbage until you can find a proper garbage can.

I could tell story upon story about each of these, but I'll let your imagination fill in the blanks. Let's just say that I have had entire conversations with Ibis about each of these "social standards."

What say you?

I've Run Out of Words

2009-10-06T07:00:00.004-05:00

*crickets*

*crickets*

*CRICKETS*

Okay, Okay, I'm not completely out of words, but I'm writing this Monday evening and man am I whooped. I applied for another job and while I always take care with my cover letter, etc, this one went above and beyond. They had a handful of essay question about my job experience and, well, let's just say I got a little verbose.

Who me?

I know.

And now I'm wiped out. I did manage to BACKUP my computer though.

What do you do to re-energize?

My Canadian Job Search Has Begun

2009-10-05T07:00:00.002-05:00

Saturday I was bouncing between cleaning, playing with Owen, and chatting with friends on Facebook when it occurred to me that I was no long WAITING for anything. The news already came. But I tell you, after two and a half years of twiddling our thumbs and waiting for a magical letter to arrive (which, by the way, has technically still not arrived), it's tough to suddenly switch gears.

So as of Saturday afternoon, the job search has officially begun. Ibis actually beat me to it and sent out his first resume that day, but I didn't find any listings that sounded good until Sunday evening. And even then, it was just the one. I'm also looking in several cities which makes the search process a little more haphazard than I'm used to.

One thing became clear rather quickly: I'll most likely have to take a pay cut because

1) I've been unemployed for over two years and employers don't always like that (even though I have furthered my skills), and

2) the economy kinda sucks right now. Maybe you've heard?

I'll try not to bore you and only fill you in when something actually happens, but I figured my first resume in over three years was worthy of a post.

In other news, I'm approaching my two-year blog anniversary and this is my 600th post. *throws confetti*

Owen Says He's Very Excited About the Possibility of Moving Someplace Cooler

2009-10-03T07:00:00.003-05:00

I've never actually seen his tongue hang out that far -- I only seem to capture it in pictures when I'm looking at the little screen. Poor baby is HOT.

My Other Exciting But Not Nearly As Life-Changing News

2009-10-02T07:00:00.001-05:00

My website is up!

In the wake of Immigration trying to destroy my life, I decided to hurry up and launch my website. I was able to get the domain name I wanted, and for the past 36 hours I've been finalizing all the details.

I still plan to do something completely different and much cooler with the portfolio, but this will do for now. Last night around 6pm I suddenly realized I hadn't included any contact information, so now that's there too.

Without further ado... melanieavila.com

I'd love to hear what you think. Any issues you have with pages loading, something that's hard to read, typos... you name it.

Part of my long-term goal is to be able to work full time as a freelancer -- or actually form my own business and call myself self-employed -- so let me know if you're ever in the market for a website, or know someone who is.

We Finally Have an Answer

2009-10-01T07:00:00.001-05:00

Yesterday at 4pm, our fifteen-month wait finally ended. We received news from US Immigration regarding Ibis' case -- unfortunately, we did not get the news we'd hoped for.

Denied.

That's right.

The actual letter stating why we were denied has yet to reach us, so I don't know the specifics. Our lawyer got the verdict via a call center and they only told her the result. There is an opportunity to appeal, but from what I understand:

A) our chances are relatively slim UNLESS there was some sort of error with the process, and

B) the average wait for an appeal is two years.

Frankly, that doesn't sound very appealing -- sorry, I can't help myself despite all this -- so as of today we're starting the process to move to Canada. We need to apply for visas and try to find jobs (so we can get visas), and a whole mess of things I haven't even discovered yet.

I announced this on Facebook yesterday afternoon and from the comments I've already received, I know a lot of people care about us and are very upset with this news. Many have asked if there's anything they can do -- some have even mentioned going to the media -- but I don't think it'll do much good. There are a lot of particulars with our case that I haven't made public and I don't know how they've impacted this outcome. (For those of you I've spoken to privately, this isn't directed towards you.)

I certainly appreciate the support -- without it I'd be in a puddle on the floor -- I just hate to have my friends spend their valuable time on something that most likely won't help.

That said, there ARE two things (off the top of my head) that we do need help with:

1) With the whole world spread out before us, Vancouver is our first choice on where to live. Edmonton is second. If you know anything about either city, if you have connections there, if you know of jobs, if you happen to be tight with Mr. Harper… that's where you can help us.

2) If you're in the market for a furnished two-bedroom condo on the Pacific coast of Mexico, I can get you a great deal.

I'll let you know more as we find out. Yes, we're pissed and frustrated and upset and more than a touch angry, but we're also relieved. Having this hanging over our heads for more than two years has been miserable and made it very difficult to be happy. At least now we can get on with our lives.

Migraine Day

2009-09-30T07:00:00.001-05:00

It's been awhile since I've used one of these, but I knew my day would come sooner or later. Have a great day everyone, and I'll be back tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy a couple pictures from my trip home.

First is the awesome fire my 13-year old nephew built.

And this is a shot from the plane on the way home.

Disaster Preparedness

2009-09-29T07:00:00.002-05:00

"Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?"

We watched Bad Boys with Will Smith and Martin Lawrence on Saturday night, and the theme song has been stuck in my head ever since. Especially the "Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?" part.

Growing up in small-town Michigan, we had tornado drills at school. We'd file into the hallway with our heaviest book, then crouch along the walls, heads tucked against our chests, and hold the book over the back of our necks. Despite our readiness, a tornado never hit. I only remember going into our basement of our house once, and I think that was more to humor me than to escape impending doom.

When I worked at the Jewish Community Center in Chicago, we had fire drills and bomb drills. Both worked about the same, but there's something about the possibility of an EXPLOSIVE DEVICE in the building where you spent 8-10 hours a day that was more than a little unsettling. At least the firemen were cute.

(Side note: My boss and I shared an office on the second floor and discovered what looked like a small bullet hole in one of the windows. That was scary.)

Mexico has brought a new set of dangers. (Understatement of the year.) The most obvious is earthquakes, and I experienced my very first temblor within a month of moving here. Since then I've grown accustomed to the strange vibrations that rattle the building, and the only real adjustment I've made is I try to make sure I have outdoor-appropriate clothing on my nightstand when I got to bed. I doubt I'll have much time to get dressed, but I'd hate to think I'd be stuck outside in my skivvies.

Then there's the danger that I never in my life thought I'd have to plan for: gunmen. Now, before everyone freaks out, so far we've been lucky and any threats have been mostly in our heads, but given the level of violence in our neck of the woods, it'd be stupid not to have a plan.

We have a metal security door that is locked at all times, and my computer (and therefore where I sit most of the day) is off to the side. When the main door is open, it shields me from the open doorway. 98% of the time I hear anyone who comes up the stairs, and even if I don't and they catch me off guard, I never stand up and go to the door -- I just peek around the edge of the door enough to see who it is. If anyone were to show up with a gun, my plan is to move further inside the house and press myself up against the concrete wall. Because of the way everything is positioned, it'd be tricky to get a shot at me if I were standing there.

This may sound a bit dramatic, but when people are getting kidnapped at a rate of one per week, I think it'd be stupid NOT to have some sort of plan.

So, do you and your family have an emergency plan? If not, why?

Seven o'Clock and All is Well!

2009-09-28T07:00:00.002-05:00

After our overly exciting Thursday evening, the weekend was rather uneventful. Typically I wouldn't bother writing a blog post about that, but I know a lot of you were concerned (or still are concerned) and I wanted to reassure you. Sure, there were more killings and mutilations and all that fun stuff, but things in the Avila household were business as usual.

One thing I keep forgetting to give you an update on is my toe. (Adam, please control yourself.) I had a "procedure" done my first week back from the states where a portion of my toenail and some infected tissue were removed. I've had to wear a bandage ever since -- and let me just tell you how fun that is with a puppy.

My latest appointment was this past Friday and the doctor didn't have much to say about it, just that I'm to return in three more weeks. The biggest hassle is because I'm only supposed to change the bandage once a day, I have to encase my foot in a plastic bag if I shower more than once. This time of year I typically shower three times a day, so let's just say while things in the Avila household may be business as usual, they are a little more ripe.

Ahem.

Anyway, things are fine, I'm writing over 500 words per day (give or take) and I'm almost to the climactic scenes of my story.

Anything exciting happen over the weekend? Did you SEE the adorable picture of Owen crying? *sigh*

Roo Roo Roo

2009-09-26T07:00:00.001-05:00

That is the sound Owen makes when he's excited, frustrated, happy, hungry, playful, and sad. This is him "roo-ing" right after Ibis left to go to the store.

He howls at the door, then turns around to face me and howls some more to make sure I know Ibis left. I imagine his cries are something like "HE'S GONE! HE'S GONE! (look back and forth) DID YOU KNOW HE'S GONE?" It's so pitiful but I try to ignore him so the behavior isn't reinforced. But he's so cute and gets all snuggly afterwards.

This was a couple minutes later. He'd stopped crying and just looked super-duper-wooper sad instead.

I keep waiting for the cuteness to wear off, but I could stare at him all day long -- some days it feels like that's all I do. I can't tell you how many times one of us will say "look at him!" because he's doing something adorable, like rolling over, rubbing his face, twitching his ears... you get the idea.

What Happened to the Green Zone?

2009-09-25T07:00:00.004-05:00

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Shots echoed off the concrete walls surrounding the gas station. People scrambled for cover—scrawny teenagers pulling older men alongside them—their heads ducked low, their eyes frantic.

Were they fireworks, or gunshots?

Either would be bad in a gas station, but only one caused people to run like that.

Several cars peeled out of the parking lot, desperate to get away. People cowered behind anything solid they could find—parked cars, electrical transformers, gas pumps. The gas pumps didn't seem like such a good idea.

And the shots continued.

Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop!

Barely a heartbeat passed before three police trucks flew around the corner, lights flashing, guns drawn. The policemen had already pulled down their masks—no one would be able to identify them unless they were left behind.

And still the people ran.

*****

We weren't exactly keeping count, but Ibis and I guessed there were at least 50 shots before the police arrived. We didn't make the light, and in the minute it took for the lights to cycle, the shots continued. The women stationed in the intersection seemed torn between washing another windshield for a couple pesos and diving for cover.

We just sunk as low as we could in our seats.

A couple miles away, after the checkpoint at the river that marks the border between the two states -— leaving Michoacan and entering Guerrero -- two more police trucks roared towards us.

The attack had already made the news by the time we got home an hour later. Apparently there was a shooting an hour earlier when the police tried to arrest people at a safehouse and were shot at from men inside the house.

An hour later, "the federal police men were ambushed by about 10 subjects, who opened fire with out warning against a the federal police convoy composed by three official trucks." The same three trucks we saw. Three people died in the first shooting, but fortunately no one was killed in the second.

I keep joking that the violence is following me, but this is no joke.

And Just Like That...

2009-09-24T07:00:00.000-05:00

When will I learn? Every time I complain to you all that I can't seem to get the words out, it's like I tripped a switch and they come gushing out. Yesterday wasn't exactly waterworks, but a steady stream flowed and I wrote 1000+ words in a couple hours. That's leaps and bounds above what I've been doing.

And just in time. We got a call yesterday that my sister-in-law (the mother of the 4yo nephew) had her baby on Monday, so today we're driving back to Lazaro to see her. Over the weekend she told us she was due in mid-November, but now we're also told she wasn't premature, so I'm thinking my SIL wasn't too clear on the details. I'm also curious about the name since as of Sunday she said she hadn't even thought about names.

(Side note: How is that even possible?)

Her son has the same name as my brother, so we're thinking about bribing her to name the new baby after my sister. My mom has a pair of cousins with the same names, and I think it'd be fun to carry on the tradition!

See you tomorrow!

A Slow Start

2009-09-23T07:00:00.001-05:00

I've been in a bit of a writing funk for the past month. My edits on the first portion of After the Fall went well and I left for my trip excited to write the ending, but when I got home, writing was the last thing I wanted to do. Lucky for me I had plenty to help me procrastinate, but at some point last week I knew I needed to buckle down.

It went slowly at first, but then I wrote a flash piece and my writing gears loosened up. Not much, but enough to get things going again. I wrote an average of 400-500 words per day -- good, but not what I want. Then Saturday, while a hyperactive puppy and equally excited four-year old nephew swirled around me, I knocked out 500 words in under an hour. Then Ibis took them both to the beach and I decided it was now or never. I cranked out 1500 words over the course of the afternoon, then yesterday I finished that chapter. Phew!

Last night I even managed to start the next chapter, so today's session should hopefully start more smoothly.

I also submitted a short story to another publication -- something I've been doing steadily but let slide when I planned my trip. Hopefully I can keep it up.

To Answer My Questions

2009-09-22T07:00:00.002-05:00

In the space of half an hour yesterday I had three questions answered.

Question #1: Is my current wip women's fiction?

Answer, courtesy of Jessica Foust at Bookends:

"One of the reason women’s fiction is so hard to define is because the definition is so simple, and so broad. Women’s fiction is fiction that appeals to women. In my mind that means the protagonist could be man, woman, child or even dog. I also think women’s fiction tends to have a greater level of emotion than some other books. It’s a book that tugs on the heartstrings, so to speak. I know, I know, a lot of books that wouldn’t be defined as women’s fiction could fit that definition as well, but a lot of books that would never be called romance also have romance in them."

Question #2: What exactly IS showing vs. telling? (too many posts to link)

Answer, courtesy of Nathan Bransford:

"My interpretation is this...: universal emotions should not be "told." Instead, we should be shown how the character is reacting to their feelings.

"...emotions are universal: we all feel sad, angry, happy, emotional, etc. etc. But how we react to those emotions are completely and infinitely different. That's what we find interesting.

"This also applies to:
- Descriptions - It's not interesting to merely hear that someone is "pretty" - what characteristics make them pretty?
- Characterizing relationships - Not interesting to only hear that two people are "close". How are they close? What do they do together?"

His entire post is well worth reading, but those are the bits that most resonated with me.

Question #3: What the heck are my neighbors building?"

Answer: They appear to be closets. Go figure. (A man was actually pummeling the brick with a sledgehammer while I took the picture -- you can sort of make him out in the opening.)

Thoughts? Do you show or tell? Write about dogs and their feelings? Have you added three feet of depth to your house for a couple closets?

A Glimpse at the Future

2009-09-21T07:00:00.001-05:00

A lot of my writing friends have children but not all of them make time for their writing in the same ways. Some religiously write while their kids are at school, others get up early or stay up late (either way they sacrifice sleep), and those with small children squeeze it in wherever they can.

I've often wondered what kind of writer/parent I'll be, and this weekend I got a preview. We picked up our nephew Friday afternoon and Saturday I was determined to work on my latest chapter, so I opened my document and wrote a sentence here and there. I stayed close enough to it that I'd think about the next line while supervising my nephew while he played with Owen, then sit back down and write another paragraph.

It's certainly not the fastest method in the world, but I was happy to discover that I can be productive this way. I've gotten so spoiled with my non-existent schedule that I've wondered how I'll function when I go back to the real world.

I also figured out another trick: knock them all out.

Life Is Hard

2009-09-19T07:00:00.001-05:00

That's what we say whenever we notice Owen sleeping. As I'm sure most puppies do, when he first wakes up, he lifts his head, looks around the room, maaaaybe starts to get up, then he collapses in a heap on the floor. If he was in his bed and started to climb out, he often gives up halfway out. Or he inches himself out bit by bit over the course of half an hour until he's half in/half out of his bed. Yes, we ooh and ahh every time.

This was after a bath. I put the towel on the floor for him to snuggle with, he dragged part of it into his bed, then eventually worked his way back out again.

Hanging out with "papa".

He'd been asleep for at least an hour before we noticed his ears were flipped over. Trying to hear us talking about him, perhaps?

Finally, he LOVES his toys. I keep moving them out of his way so he can sleep, but he chooses to sleep on top of them. During the day he'll stick his head in and grab one, then another, then another toy to play with. At least he appreciates them!

Can you believe how big he's gotten? Compared to the first pictures I posted of him in his bed, he looks like a giant!

More Online Friends

2009-09-18T07:00:00.003-05:00

Midway through my visit home I got together with three other writers from Absolute Write. I've gotten to know Rachel through Facebook and our blogs, but Haggis I only knew through AW (we both love the Red Wings), and I'd never "met" Bubastes. That didn't stop us from gathering in Plymouth, Michigan for a night of half-price wine and senior line dancing.

(If you're wondering about the cat and dog, Bubastes (the cat) and Haggis (the Chihuahua) don't want their faces revealed. Rachel and I know their secret identities! Bwahahahaha!)

It was a little tricky meeting people that I'd never even seen a picture of, but Haggis had given us a fairly good description, and since I got there first I had the easiest part -- I just waited for them to show up at the table. We laughed and swapped stories for several hours, then sadly the Chihuahua had to go out for a potty break and left first.

Us girls (my cousin Jenna was with us, too) kept talking long after our waiter cashed out for the night, so someone finally suggested moving to the bar area where there were still people and, presumably, refreshments.

I peeked around the corner and reported what I'd seen. "There are a bunch of old people line dancing."

I wasn't kidding. No offense to any of my elderly readers -- and these people were boogying so you really shouldn't take offense -- but they had the bouffant hairdo's kicking and were shaking their booties HARD, especially for a Wednesday night!

We should have known better than to think a group of thirty-something women could stroll through there without drawing attention to ourselves. We'd no sooner sat down than the first tipsy retiree saddled up to the table. "How're you ladies doing tonight?" We giggled him away, but they kept on coming, some more persistent than others.

We didn't dare mention that we'd all just met each other, so Rachel told one wrinkled gentleman that we hadn't seen each other in a long time and we only had a short time to catch up. Then we all dropped our left hands on the table to display our wedding bands.

The best line of the night -- or at least I THINK it was a line -- came from a younger man (although still 10-15 years older than us) who said "you're too pretty for all of you to have boyfriends." I'll have to remember to use that in my next romantic comedy.

We stayed until after midnight, raised a toast to Haggis who left way too soon, and walked away three friends richer.

I Feel Like Pinnochio

2009-09-17T07:00:00.000-05:00

I keep meaning to tell you all a little about my trip, but wouldn't you know it -- things are actually happening in my life that are worthy of talking about. Or at least I hope they are.

My first day in Chicago I met my very first online friend -- Amy Nathan! She's already posted a recap of our meeting (along with pictures -- check it out because I didn't post the same ones she did) but I thought I'd give my take as well.

Prior to August 2007, I'd never talked to someone I didn't know online, so it's still a little strange to me that I have friends that I've never met in real life -- some of whom I'm closer with than the people I've shared oxygen with. When Amy found out I was coming to Chicago, she suggested we meet. After a lot of back and forth, we settled on meeting at the Bean.

Here's me waiting for her.

We'd seen each other's picture online so we knew who to look for, and we immediately headed off to lunch. I felt a little silly because I could not for the life of me figure out where to go, and I consider myself a Chicago girl! Amy suggested the food court at Macy's (formerly Marshall Fields) so we could sit for hours without anyone rushing us from the table. (We had sushi.)

We chatted like old friends about everything under the sun -- we even talked about writing! -- then had a bored bookstore manager take our picture in front of the books.

Afterwards, we stumbled upon a cupcake store. I've been craving baked goods for quite awhile now, so when I saw the baked goodness I knew I had to have one or twelve. I settled for this:

It's a chocolate cupcake with peanut butter flavored frosting. Divine! I stared at the monstrous goodness, trying to figure out how to eat it, when Amy gave me a great tip: you remove the top, then flip it over and stack them together like a sandwich. It's not pretty but it's oh so good…

After all the sushi and sugar, Amy had to catch the train home. As I walked her to the station, we passed a corner completely roped off with police tape. Apparently the police had just shot and killed an "aggressive panhandler" who put a knife to a passerby's throat. Scary! Of course, we had no clue any of this was going on RIGHT OUTSIDE FROM WHERE WE WERE EATING.

I could even see the little markers on the ground indicating where the bullets had fallen. Yikes!

I was sad to send Amy on her way. We got along so well -- there was no awkwardness and definitely no uncomfortable silences -- that I could have chatted with her all afternoon!

(In case you don't get the title of this post, it's because I made a REAL-WORLD FRIEND!)

Flash Fiction Wednesday

2009-09-16T07:00:00.001-05:00

The Storytellers prompt (hosted by the always lovely Lurker Monkey) for this month is the following picture:

Change of Plans

Rusty wiped the scratchy washcloth over his eyes. Tepid water dribbled off his chin and soaked into the satin ruffle around his throat.

"Slow night, eh Rusty?" Winston, the horse man, leaned his head into the cramped space that served as a dressing room.

Rusty stiffened. Winston seemed relaxed—if he suspected anything he'd be acting tense, nervous. The way he was. He let out a breath. "Kids don't seem as excited to see us as they used to. These days they just wanna sit in front of the TV playing those video games."

"Ain't that the truth." Winston rubbed a hand through his hair, sending a halo of dust into the air around him. He sneezed, then dragged a dirty sleeve across his nose. "Boss says we're leaving in a half hour. Got a big set up on Friday and we gotta tear down by tomorrow morning."

"Why the rush?"

Winston shrugged. "Some new gig." He raised one eyebrow. "A big one." Then he shoved a finger into his ear to scratch God knows whatever lurked inside. Probably fleas.

Rusty waited. Winston hoarded information like a kid with all the marbles, and Rusty refused to play his games. He turned back to the cracked mirror and rubbed the washcloth over his mouth.

Winston shuffled his feet on the plank flooring, but didn't speak.

Rusty rolled his eyes. If he wanted some peace and quiet he needed to get Winston to hurry up and say whatever was on his mind. "So Rochester's out? Where we going that takes two days to set up?"

Winston whistled. "It's a big one." He'd already said that. Winston paused another beat, then spilled it. "We got New York."

"We're in New York."

"City. New York City."

Shit. New York frigging City?

A smile spread across Winston's normally surly face. "It gets better. We're gonna be in The Garden. Can you believe it?" He tilted his head towards the ceiling, no doubt imagining the basketball players he idolized hanging around the ring—even though it was off-season—to chat up a crusty old horse wrangler. Right.

"Huh."

Winston snapped out of his daydream. "You aren't excited? A week-long gig in New York is big time. Some other outfit was scheduled but a couple horses got colic, then one of your brothers caught a horn in the throat."

Rusty shuddered. Didn't matter how long he worked this job, the bull's horns still terrified him. If anyone asked he said he stayed on because protecting pansy-assed cowboys gave him a sense of purpose, but really he was just lazy. Finding another job was too much damn work.

Winston's eyes caught his in the mirror. He seemed uncertain, like he had something else to say. Did he know? "So… half an hour then." He turned and left.

Rusty slumped in his chair. New York? He'd been counting on Rochester and the farmers who take the day off for some wholesome family fun. He didn't know anything about people in New York City.

He leaned closer to the mirror. Black makeup stained his eyebrows and a garish red burrowed into the creases around his mouth. He was getting too old for this shit. He dipped the washcloth into the plastic bowl in front of him and wiped off what he could.

Half an hour. He needed to get moving.

His knees popped as he rose from his chair and he dug his gnarled fingers into his lower back. Definitely too old. But who else would hire a drunk? He forced his knees into a crouch and twirled the combination lock on his battered trunk, then pushed aside the shiny red satin and felt hats until he touched the dusty old ropes. Last time he counted there were almost two dozen—more than enough to keep him with a steady supply of gin for the next month. But only if they went to Rochester.

How the hell was he supposed to sell this crap in a big city?

He glanced over his shoulder, then covered the ropes before Winston came back. The old man had been with the show for over twenty years—five more than Rusty—and he liked to think he had some kind of power over Rusty, even though everyone knew the clowns were the stars of the show. Well, after the cowboys.

Winston's power trips were what first gave Rusty the idea. The ropes weren't hard to take. The wrangler drank almost as much as he did and they went through so much rope that two or three a week went unnoticed. True, the lasso rope was a little less common—that's why he was so on edge tonight—but over the past year he'd figured out that a genuine rodeo rope that was used to lasso a calf or goat or whatever scrawny animal they rustled up that week brought in the most cash. He'd lurk near the parking lot after the show, the ropes snaked around his waist, tucked under the folds of fabric. He hit up the families first. If the kids didn't bolt at the sight of him—he still didn't understand why more kids weren't afraid of clowns—he'd slip out a rope and within minutes little Johnny or Betsy had their father by the neck.

Hmm… that gave him an idea.

New Yorkers were a desperate lot. Money drove everything they did, and from what he'd been hearing, it wasn't flowing like in years past. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. He usually had some free time during the day—yet another benefit of being the entertainment—so maybe he could head down to where the suits worked. He'd bring along a sign, but he needed something better than rodeo lassoes. What else needed a rope with a loop at the end?

He chuckled.

Nooses.

Perfect.

He dropped back into the chair, a slow smile brightening his face. He'd get his gin after all.

You Tell Me

2009-09-15T07:00:00.001-05:00

Our neighbors are adding something to their house, but we can't figure out what exactly this addition IS. Ibis guessed storage, but then they closed off the walls. I'm guessing that they're expanding the rooms, but doing it in a really bass ackwards way.

So. What do YOU think?

What Am I Doing In Mexico?

Que Vaya Bien

Never Say Goodbye 'til It's Closing Time

HOW is it FRIDAY?

I Believe This is What They Refer to As "Coming Full Circle"

Another "Last" and a Beginning

Another Day at the Beach

This Writing Life

That is One Sick Puppy

Who Says Rain Dances Don't Work?

More Violence

Twelve Days Short of Three Years

Two If By Sea

Caravan

Spontaneous Design

Two Canadian Tourists Shot in Ixtapa

Is This What They Call More Fun?

Kelly Meding's Three Days to Dead

666

I've Been Busy!

I Have a New Gig

Dis⋅cre⋅tion

Things I Did Not Do While in the US for One Month That I Normally Do When I’m Home for Two Weeks

I Think I Missed My Calling

It's the Future!

Finally

It's Snowing!

I'm in the Huffington Post!

So You Think You're a Writer?

That's Not the Garbage

The Mexico City Airport

What a Weekend!

All Packed & Ready to Go!

Friendly Books

Another Peek

Tuesday Stuff and Things

Shiny New First Page

Like a Duck to Water

Shiny New Idea

Contents Under Pressure May Grow Abnormaly Large & Scare the Bejeezus Out of You

A Subtle Touch

Free at Last

White Christmas

See You on the 30th

C-C-C-Curry

Word

And Poof, It's Gone

'Tis the Season

From Puppy to Dog

Making the Most of It

Flash Fiction Thursday

Slurp This

*gasps for breath*

Do As I Say...

Working Like a Dog

US Airman Killed in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico

I Got the Hummus

Priorities

Too Much of Anything...

A Little Common Sense Please

Exercising With a Puppy

*sigh*

That Writing Thing

Overload

Cribbage

NoNoNoNo

Already?

Ponderings

The War of Art Giveaway

I'm Healed!

Tuesday Stuff and Things

Hurricane Rick?

Leaps & Bounds

This is Really Starting to Tick Me Off

Room Temperature

A Minor Rant

My Workspace

The End: Part Three

What a Crybaby, Part 2

The End

gasps for breath

sigh