Happy New Year!

Barring any incidents with a overzealous, armed Mexican, I'll be back tomorrow!

Hairspray Ninja

I just had to share that I chased a two-inch long cockroach out the front door last night. I was in bed watching a movie, got up to go to the bathroom, and when I turned on the light TWO cockroaches ran across the floor.

One normal sized, which I hairsprayed to death in the sink.

The second was GINORMOUS. And apparently afraid of hairspray. I chased him to the front door but he was so big he wouldn't fit underneath. I cracked it open and "encouraged" him in that direction, and he scurried his ugly butt towards the stairs.

I am a hairspray-weilding ninja. Don't mess with me.

And yes, there were some girly screams involved.

A Hiccup

I've had a few hiccups in my life, many of them revolving around moving without much prior notice. In college I'd planned to live in DC after graduation, but with three weeks left in school, I decided to move back to Michigan. A year later I moved to Chicago with a little more planning but even fewer people to watch my back. Then there was the move to Mexico. That took two full months of planning but was by far the largest undertaking I'd ever handled.

Then there was my parents wedding... I had just turned seven and my parents had the brilliant idea of having their children stand alongside them for the duration of the service. (My brother and sister were twelve and eleven, respectively.) The ceremony started nicely: "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here –"

"Hic!"

Everyone looked at me, startled at the noise that burst from my throat.

"Hic!"

Yes, I had the hiccups, and no amount of kicking from my brother would make them stop. For years I was teased for hiccuping through the entire service. I was seven, what could I do? My mom was supposed to help me with those types of things, but she was busy gazing into my new dad's eyes. I was on my own, with my hiccups.

Recently I've hit another hiccup. This one didn't involve moving or spasms of air in my throat, but the results have disrupted my life. I finished the first draft of my book in November, just before my trip back to the States. My mom read it while I was home and made some comments, and I started my own edits shortly after.

"Look at me, I'm editing my book!" I thought to myself, excited that I was really doing it.

Midway through December I finished the hard copy edits and began entering them into the Word document. I tweaked things as I went, feeling confident that it was slowly coming together.

Except for those sections I had to rewrite. Or write in the first place. Remember when I said I forgot to write about the actual immigration process? Way back in October? Well, that's been hanging over my head for months. I've also been unhappy with the first three pages - the very beginning of my story.

I also don't have an ending, but since I haven't decided at what point to cut this thing off, I'm not to concerned about that, yet.

These little rewrites have stalled me, a hiccup in the process. I got myself so worked up that I was unable to write anything. Granted, there have been a few things in my personal life that may have played a part as well, but I've been hung up on the equivalent of five typed pages.

Then, during an inspirational scene in Flashdance, I remembered the rule to give yourself permission to write crap. When had I decided I was above this? When I finished my first draft? Bollocks. I can't edit something that doesn't exist, so how did I think I was ever going to continue moving forward?

Today I forced myself to sit down and write the missing pieces. The words were already in my head, I just had to clear away the doubts and get my thoughts on paper. I wrote in longhand, instead of on the computer - something about my handwriting makes it feel a little more real - and finished the intro and the immigration bit in about an hour.

I still need to work on the conclusion, but now that the hiccups have passed I'm feeling a little more confident.

Smuggled Goodies

Something horrible has happened.

For the past two weeks, I have been forced to cook my own meals.

Ibis and I have a nice trade-off: I do all the cleaning and he does all the cooking. It may sound lopsided but he's a really good cook and I don't mind most of the cleaning. (He does still have to mop.) We don't always eat every meal together: I often make my own eggs for breakfast and I can handle snacks and sandwiches, but the big meals... that's all him.

If you've been following along you know he's been working as a waiters' captain at a hotel. He gets home early enough that we could eat together, but the one perk (since he's yet to see a paycheck) is they feed him. And I'm not talking tacos and beans; the employees get real meals, with fish or other meats, plus dessert.

I've been dining on sandwiches and Cup O'Noodle.

He feels bad that my diet has tanked since he's been there, and he's even said he wants to put some food in his pocket to bring home to me. Like Napolean Dynamite and his tots. I've even debated hanging out at the beach near his hotel so he can sneak me a nice meal. It's sounds pathetic, I know, but I've been spoiled since we've been together. And yes, this is why I cooked our Christmas dinner.

Well, last night Ibis came home and pulled a napkin-wrapped lump out of his pocket. "Look what I have for you!"

I opened it, eager to see what was inside.

Spongecake!

Sure, it's not filet mignon or a day's catch, but since I'd already eaten my sandwich, dessert was just what I wanted.

I wonder what he'll bring home today...

Soy Mexicana?

In the past 24-hours, two things occurred that make me think I might be a little closer to fitting in here. Yesterday I made rajas en crema, and typical Mexican dish with poblano peppers and cream, and today the lady we buy a lot of our produce from gave me a special bag that says I'm an Esteemed Client.

Well slap me silly and call me a biscuit.

The meal we've eaten a number of times, but Ibis is always in charge. My duties are to run and get the tortillas when the dinner is almost ready. Since he worked yesterday I said I'd attempt it on my own, and while we didn't have tortillas, it was delicious! Between the green peppers and red tomatoes, it was very Christmasey.

You grill the peppers, then peel off the skin once they're blackened and cut into rajas (strips). Meanwhile you sautee tomatoes, onion & garlic in oil, then add the peppers. Next is the most important step: add crema (sour cream) and queso cotijo (a crumbly cheese). Cook a few more minutes & you're done.

It sounds easy but I have a habit of destroying what should be a simple meal. Since this went so well I plan to make this at least once a week, as long as I can find low-fat sour cream.

The bag really isn't that exciting, but it was very sweet the woman, Doña as we call her, gave it to me. Ibis and I get most of our produce from her & she sometimes throws in a head of garlic or a couple limes for free. She's always very patient with me - helping me pick produce that's good for today, or good for tomorrow, depending on which day we plan to eat it. Now that's customer service.

Now I have a neon green shopping bag to tote through town, just like one of the locals.

Feliz Navidad

Merry Christmas everyone. I'm off to spend the day at the beach - I'm told that's what you do here on Christmas - so I hope you have a wonderful holiday.

Here are a couple photos from last night in the plaza.







Have a wonderful day!

Happy Christmas Eve

It's that magical time of year when the locals trade in their pistols for bazookas to ring in the holidays. Good lord. I know Mexicans like to shoot guns to celebrate whatever blessed event it happens to be, whether it's Friday night or the birth of Christ, but I've nearly jumped out of my skin three times today and the sun hasn't even set.

I just sent out the obligatory Happy Holidays email and while I was sorting all my friends & family into easy-to-manage groups, I deleted all my friends who happen to come after the letter K. Fortunately hotmail has prepared for people who do these sorts of things and I was able to track down most everyone from past emails, but I think I'm still missing ten or fifteen people. If you are one of those people, please accept my apologies.

Ibis doesn't have a day off in sight, but at least he works days so we'll be able to celebrate both evenings. We're not exchanging gifts but I do have presents from my gramma we can open. I've been told Nochebuena is a bigger deal than Navidad, so we're planning to walk downtown and see what's happening in the plaza. The city shot of fireworks last night (which we watched from our condo) so I'm not sure what else they have in store.

I keep meaning to take a picture of the Christmas tree set up Rockafeller-Center style, but so far I've forgotten the camera every time we've been down there. Cross my fingers I remember tonight. I'm putting the camera on the table as we speak.

I hope this post finds you safe & warm. If not, let me know and I'll send some heat your way.

Babel

Last night we watched the movie Babel. We'd seen it in the theater and while I remember crying at several different points and being very moved, the specifics were lost over the past year.

The back of the DVD case says "a tragic accident in Morocco sets off a chain of events that will link four groups of people who, divided by cultural differences and vast distances, will discover a shared destiny that ultimately connects them."

The story is woven together beautifully, and I became so involved with the characters that during each scene, I forgot about the others. I've seen films with intersecting storylines before but I find myself wondering what's going on with everyone else when I should be concentrating on those onscreen. Not so with this film.

I often quote movies and funny one-liners quickly become a part of my dialect. Anyone remember "Do it" from Starsky & Hutch or "Gawd, idiot!" from Napolean Dynamite? We say those so much they've even worked their way into my memoir. In the same way comedies wheedle into my life, movies like Babel impact my day-to-day existence.

I won't be quoting Brad Pitt anytime soon, but many of the decisions presented to the characters are issues that do impact my life. Spoiler: When Cate Blanchett's character is shot and they struggle to get her to a hospital, I was reminded of conversations Ibis and I have had.

Living in another country, we need to have a plan if anything happens to either of us. I can speak passable Spanish, but can I get him help in an emergency? And what if something happens to both of us? His family doesn't speak English and my parents don't speak Spanish - how will word get to them?

I raised these concerns with our American neighbor and she recommended we talk to a woman in Ixtapa that works with the American Consulate. I'm already registered with the US Embassy in Mexico City, but that could take awhile. Watching Cate and Brad come to grips with the idea that she might die in a tiny town in the middle of the desert - on the other side of the world from everyone they know and love - really hit home for me.

The more obvious scene - the Mexican nanny lost in the desert at the US/Mexico border - also struck a chord, but as we don't plan to sneak across the border, that's a little more far-fetched for us.

This isn't intended as a movie review, and don't be scared away if you're not big on Brad Pitt - he's not in it nearly as much as the previews would have you believe - but this film moved me again. To me, that makes it worth watching.

What is This Christmas You Speak Of?

As I'm sure you're well aware, the Christmas season is in full swing. If we judge by the stores, we're in about the third month of the swing with the last big push still to come. Everyone I talk to is busy buying last-minute gifts, finishing the decorations and cramming in all the holiday parties. And they all want to know how they celebrate here in Mexico.

For me, it could be the middle of June for as much as it looks like Christmas. Sure, there's red and green garland strung from every light post in town, musical Christmas lights sing on every block, and there's a twenty-foot tree in the plaza (also made of garland). The grocery stores have had inflatable Santas since October, so in that sense, I do feel like I'm home, but no one actually puts them in their yards. Lights adorn the windows of quite a few houses, some blinking to a beat only they can hear, but I haven't seen any trees through those windows.

I've been warned told that the 24th is the big night here and that I should wear my helmet both that night and New Years Eve. I'm guessing there will be a parade - they have a parade for everything - but that will be the extent of our celebration. The gifts from my gramma are the only thing festive in our home, and they're sitting high on a shelf over the TV. I'm big on sending out cards & putting up a tree, but I just don't have it in me this year (and I don't want to buy all new decorations when I have boxes full in storage.)

Ibis' family doesn't celebrate and he might have to work, so I'll call home, but other than that I imagine it'll be like any other day here. Much the same way I tell friends to have a great weekend, and thank god it's Friday, when every day is more or less the same, I'll send my holiday wishes.

We have a party tonight - the developers are throwing a posada for the residents. My task is to buy 12-15 pork tamales. I'm not quite sure where to find said tamales, but I'm sure someone at the market will point me in the right direction. I haven't met all our neighbors yet so this will be a nice way to make a few more friends.

I know not everyone will be near a computer over the holiday, so have a wonderful weekend and Feliz Navidad!

Slow News Day

Yeah, I got nothing.

Feel free to tell me about YOUR day. :)

Double Whammy

I've been hit again. Ed over at Upon Reflection tagged me yesterday, so I said I'd play along one more time. Since I already covered all the weird things about me (yeah right), this will be a bit of a stretch.

1. I attended my first posada last night. The hotel where Ibis is working had their holiday party last night and besides food, drinks & dancing, there was the traditional singing of the posada. It was explained to me as similar to carol singing, except they're paying tribute to Joseph and Mary as they searched for a place to stay before Jesus was born.

Since we were all in a large banquet hall, they asked half the people to go outside and the rest of us gathered near the entrance. Then we sang back and forth to candlelight. It was cool to participate in this tradition.

Afterwards we ate a lot and even managed to dance! I've had my salsa fix, finally! And yes, I was the only non-Mexican there.


2. I've killed about 30 ants this morning and lost a fight with a cockroach yesterday. I still don't know where he went and I'm nervous about where I'll find him.


3. I know the words to (almost) every New Kids on the Block song. Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh. Care to hear more?


4. I only have two front teeth on top, as opposed to the standard four most are born with. All my sharp teeth are closer to the front so when I bite my cheek, it bleeds.


5. I almost lost my eye as a child when a dog bit me in the face. You know that little bump on the inside corner? Yeah, he bit that. You can barely see the scars now.


And that's all for today! I'm not tagging anyone else because all the blogs I read have done this now. I could tag Kris and Turkey, but I'll leave it up to them to play along.

Temp: 82°
Humidity: 73%

Well Of Course It Did

The car died last night. In Ixtapa. Ibis was leaving work when it just fizzled out. My extensive experience leads me to believe it's the alternator (I had a Corolla that wanted a new one every year) but I'll leave that up to the experts. Fortunately the buses are very reliable so Ibis can still get to and from work. He biked to the store this morning to get our staples, and the market is close by so I can walk there as needed for everything else.

I've discovered I have more readers than I thought - many of you are afraid to post and email me questions instead. So, I will respond to your comments by placing your name in parentheses. How's that for anonymity?

The town is decorated for Christmas so last night we walked to the plaza to people-watch and grab some food. (Kevin) We had a couple beef tacos, then one of my favorites: a cup of corn with salsa, cheese and mayo mixed in. Que bueno! As we watched the local children play on the basketball courts, we noticed there are a lot more tourists these days. We'd heard that would happen in December, but we hadn't seen much change yet. (Tony) There were even a few Asians.

(Gramma) Ibis has only been at his job a few days but so far he likes it. He's quickly discovered why servers always complain about lousy tips - they get lousy tips! A few have made up the difference, but he's already full of stories of people he busts his butt for, then leave him nothing.

(Gary) We still have a bees/hornets nest on our window, but they seem to have grown bored with us.

(Mom) I'm not sure how much it'll cost to fix the car or how quickly we can have it done. (See what I did there? I preempted your question!)

(Amani) We're not getting a Christmas tree, even though they actually have real pine trees here. They ship them from further inland where it's not so hot.

The cinnamon seems to be helping with the ants (thanks Janna) but I haven't figured out how to get it to stick to the sides of the cabinets. Perhaps a cinnamon/white vinegar mixture...

And last, but certainly not least, (Jes) I will have my bunny story for you soon. :)

Oh! I started John Robinson's Look Me In the Eye yesterday and I love it! I'm halfway through and I thought I'd be worried his story would be written so well I'd give up writing forever (just kidding Gramma), but his style is somewhat similar to mine. Not to compare myself with Mr. NYT Best Seller, but you know, good on me.

Holy Ants!

Umm, Houston? We have a problem.

Of anternomical proportions.

I don't think I've mentioned this here before, but we have a bit of an ant problem. I'm a very clean person & pick up any food or crumbs left out, but we don't have screens on the windows and leave the back door open 24/7, so creatures get in.

At first it was just the teeny brown ants, so small you'd miss them if you were in a hurry to grab the Nutella. Mid-summer we found some larger beasts - too disgusting to get into here but they rhyme with mock-broach - so we sprayed a full can of beast killer in all the cabinets. That killed the pests but, five months later, I still smell the chemicals every time I open the cupboard doors. And a few strays have found their way home.

Which brings us to my current problem. Ibis keeps telling me the little ants don't hurt anything and I should stop worrying about them. (yeah, right.) Well, now we have the next step in the evolutionary chain - black ants. The ones you most often see on a picnic at the park.

I don't see them carrying any food but they're taking over the kitchen. At least once a day I go on a rampage and kill all that I see, but they keep coming back. I wiped white vinegar over all the surfaces thinking the smell would throw them off, but the effects only lasted about a day. I've impressed myself with how un-squeamish I've become, squashing ants with my bare fingers like it's nobody's business, but my fingers are getting calloused!

Oh, and they keep finding their way into the water bottle I use on runs, so there's no telling how many I've eaten. "A source of protein!" Ibis claims, but I'd rather stick with chicken or fish.

Does anyone have suggestions for a non-toxic way to rid my house of these things? They're concentrated in the parts of the kitchen with food - duh - but I keep finding them in the bathroom too.

Thoughts?

Life Goes On

To borrow the words of my husband, I'm feeling melancholic. No particular reason, just a lull in my mentality, I suppose. Could have something to do with Christmas being just around the corner and it looking like the middle of summer. Sure, there's Christmas decorations all over the place, but I'm a Midwest girl and I need cold and snow, or at least freezing rain, for it to truly feel like Christmas. Having my family around would be nice, too. :)

Ibis started his waiters' captain job today so I'll hear all about that tonight. Meanwhile, the other captain in my life is in Trinidad for his latest job. Oh, the places he goes...

My search for a job turned out to be more short-lived than I expected. I was offered a job at a new place, met with her friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend in immigration, thought everything would happen quickly, then went to Immigration and was told they don't give visas for servers. It makes sense - they don't want to give jobs to foreigners that locals can do (sound familiar?) so that's out. I wasn't going to make much money so I'm not crushed, but it would've been nice to get out of the house a little more often.

So, anyone with design needs - let me know! I give you a special discount because you are special friend! (That's supposed to sound like a Mexican vendor talking to the tourists - use your imagination.)

One strange thing this week - we witnessed a wake in our neighbor's backyard. The coffin was resting on two card tables beneath a tarp, with candles fanning around the area. The strange part was the deceased's picture was on the front page of the local paper. He apparently died in his hammock and the paper sent someone out to take his photo. Ibis said he noticed a group standing around a man in a hammock, so we think he saw when they discovered he was dead. Creepy.

In good news - a pigeon tried to poop on my this morning and missed by about 2 inches. The little things...

I've Been Hit!

I am the latest victim in what can best be described as Blog Tag. Janna from Something She Wrote tagged me, and now I'm supposed to share five weird or otherwise unknown things about myself. Since my audience is a mix of people who've known me my entire life and those who don't even know what my voice sounds like, this may not be ground-breaking news for all of you.

1. I can salsa dance. Quite well, in fact. Strangers have come up and asked us if we A) are professionals (lol) or B) give lessons. We've tried giving lessons to his family but end up bickering about the best way to demonstrate a step, or "No, that's too confusing," and nothing much gets accomplished.

I started back in 2000 and met Ibis a few months later. He was in another relationship so we were friends long before our first date. For our first dance at our wedding we surprised everyone and danced to a country song, saving the salsa for later.


2. I am 5'1" and was a starter on my high school basketball team. I think that has more to do with the size of my school than my ability to dunk, but it was fun and I wouldn't trade that experience for all the public schools out there.

I went to a small boarding school with a total of 100 students. There were 25 people in my graduating class and only 30 girls in the entire school, so being among the five best players wasn't all that difficult.


3. I am a lotion and chapstick freak. I must have them with me - or close by - at all times. I can get through daily errands without lotion, and I often replace chapstick for a moisturizing lip gloss, but I'd claw my eyes out if I had to go an entire day without them.


4. I'm a little compulsive. I'm a neat-freak, worry-wart, counting-thing-in-threes type of person. I can't stand to let dishes sit in the sink for longer than it takes to eat a meal. I usually start washing them while Ibis brings the food to the table, and you can bet any I don't get to are soaking while we eat.

We don't have screens on the windows so a lot of dust comes in throughout the day. Now I sweep every morning after my run and before my shower. This is a new one for me - I don't mind sweeping but floors really aren't my thing. Until now.

My husband is a normal man and doesn't like putting his clothes away the moment they leave his body, so I do lighten up with his stuff. As long as it's all in one area (the guest bedroom) I try to leave him alone.

I do carry anti-bacterial gel with me, but we are in Mexico and things get pretty dirty. I've gotten better about compulsively doing things, but it's always in the back of my head.


5. I was once buried my a snowplow. My best friend Kris and I were in second grade (I think) and were enjoying one of about nine snowdays we had that year. We were walking from her house to mine and saw a huge snowplow off in the distance. Its spray covered the street and we ran back and forth as it came closer, not able to tell which side of the street it was on. (She tells the story that we WANTED the snow to hit us - I beg to differ) When it was too late to get out of the way we dove into the closest yard, our heads nestled between a row of pine trees, and the snow buried us. She thought I was dead for a minute but I was just contemplating life. ;)


Jenna, you're the only one I'm tagging because I don't know many bloggers and the few I do know have already played. I can't wait to read what you have to say!

Now that I've scared you all off, I need to go find my Chapstick.

Hold on a Minute

You know the old saying that you end up marrying your father and becoming your mother? And how you fight this tooth and nail, determined not to turn into them, even if they raise you well and you turned out alright? (Sorry Mom & Gary - it's for the sake of my writing!)

While I can only do so much to not turn into my mother - I'm a graphic designer, she's a lawyer, but we're the same height, etc - I thought I was doing pretty well when I married a Mexican guy. My dad's not American either - he's Dutch - but he's a big burly guy with an anchor tattoo and a business degree. And he's a boat captain.

My husband is barely five and a half feet tall (although, if you ask him, he's pushing six feet) and has what I call a soccer-player's physique. He's a carpenter and electrician, and has no tattoos.

Pretty different right?

Well, I was just folding the laundry and thinking about the new position he starts Friday when it hit me: his new job is el capitan de maseros. Waiters' captain.

Captain!

What? How did I not see this coming?

I know the two are hardly the same. Beyond the title, they couldn't be more different. Nonetheless, if anyone asks me what jobs the men in my life hold I can cover both with the same word.

I may as well break out the law books - I've become my parents.

OMG! OMG! OMG!

Nathan Bransford mentioned me by name in his blog! Me and another woman asked in yesterdays comments if he represents authors outside of the US, and today he responded to us!

I know, it's not earth-shattering news, but... OMG! OMG! OMG!

In all seriousness, my main concern is our unreliable mail service. I can send things out via DHL or FedEx, but it's the replies I'm most interested about. I know some agents don't bother sending rejections, even if you do include a self-addressed stamped envelope, and my psyche can't handle any more stress than is absolutely necessary. More and more agents accept e-queries which eliminate mail for the initial stages, but I'm sure there will be a few that prefer snail mail.

I can't only stalk query Nathan.

I'm still months away from needing to worry about this, but I do want to start researching agents and figuring out who's best suited for my work. I'm closing in on page 200 of my edits (out of roughly 280) then it's onto the joyous rewrites! Heads up to those of you I've tagged as beta readers. :)

* * * * *

I did have my blood drawn today and only had a very minor incident. I tend to pass out when needles come within 5 feet of my body and today was no exception. I thought I was fine. I waited a few minutes in the lab after the nice woman finished the blood-letting, then Ibis and I started walking back to the car. We were half a block away when things started spinning and night came much too soon.

Fortunately there was a window ledge where I was falling so I spared myself the embarassment of napping on the sidewalk. Ibis ran to get the car and I was able to get up the 4 flights of stairs on my own. I'm fine now - I just have a teeny bruise to show for my efforts.

I forgot last week, but here's the latest weather report. It's cooled off a bit since the rain last week.

Temp: 87°
Humidity: 69%

Hope the rest of you are staying warm, or at the very least, dry.

Running in Circles

For not having a job, I seem to spend an endless amount of time running in circles. The city is full of traffic circles so maybe they're rubbing off.

Take today, for example. Ibis had the day off so we were supposed to go to the grocery store and market, write a few letters in Spanish to help me get an FM3 visa, take me to a lab to have some blood work done, then give a tour of our condo development.

He stopped by work because he no longer wants to work nights and wanted to tell them to switch him to another position. This was supposed to take an hour, two at most, but it took almost four. It worked out because he was given a day job as the waiters' captain at the pool - right up his alley. Meanwhile I was at home twiddling my thumbs because I need him for my tasks.

He picked me up and we raced through the store, inhaled our lunch, then left again to meet these people. I met them yesterday and they'd like to by a condo here so we arranged to show them our development. Who knows if it'll turn into anything, but after so much time of doing nothing, it's nice to help people.

After that we went to the market for our weekly supply of fruit. He leaves for class in an hour so I have a little time to myself, but when he gets back we're supposed to hang out with our neighbors. This was not run by me before he committed.

So, I have three hours to critique a chapter for a friend, write a couple letters in Spanish, edit my own work since I didn't do any yesterday, and comment for a blog blitz I'm taking part in. I realize this sounds like a typical day for most of you, but I don't understand how my day gets away from me sometimes. (Actually I do, I just don't like to blame him in public.)

Tomorrow we'll get the bloodwork done and finish up the letters, which are for a potential job I found. A new sports bar opened up near the beach and the owner offered me a waitressing job. I hung out there yesterday to meet the other employees and get a feel for the place, and it seems like a good place to work. I can't work until I get a work visa, but she's willing to wait until I'm legit - very cool!

Before you ask, the bloodwork is routine, just follow-up for some medicine I was taking. No need to be concerned. :)

If I've Said it Once...

I just finished reading Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird and wanted to share a passage that addresses the idea of fresh ideas:

"All the good stories are out there waiting to be told in a fresh, wild way. Mark Twain said that Adam was the only man who, when he said a good thing, knew that nobody had said it before. Life is like a recycling center, where all the concerns and dramas of humankind get recycled back and forth across the universe. But what you have to offer is your own sensibility, maybe your own sense of humor or insider pathos or meaning. All of us can sing the same song, and there will still be four billion different renditions. Some people will sing it spontaneously, with a lot of soulful riffs, while others are going to practice until they could sing it at the Met. Either way, everything we need in order to sell our stories in a reasonable and exciting way already exists in each of us. Everything you need is in your head and memories, in all that your senses provide, in all that you've seen and thought and absorbed."

I'm a little past the halfway mark on editing my first draft, and I hope to make a big dent today so I can get on with draft number two!

Nightshift May Lead to Cancer

The news media recently reported a higher risk of cancer in those individuals working the night shift. Did I mention Ibis just started working nights? Great, because he needed another thing to make this harder.

For those unfamiliar, after 9pm, my husband falls asleep at the drop of a hat. It happens most often while we're watching a movie, whether we're at home or in a theater. I've developed a habit of looking at him every 5 minutes to check if he's awake, something he doesn't mind but it irritates others when I do it to them. I had to apologize to my sister while I was home because I kept looking at her during the movie - she's a big girl, she can stay awake the whole two hours. ;)

So now my nearly-narcoleptic husband is working at the front desk of a hotel, on the night shift. To make things worse, they aren't allowed to sit down. I keep asking him what the heck they do all night that makes it crucial they be on their feet, but he just says they keep busy. Sounds like a load of crap to me. It pisses me off because he's tired enough without the added torture of needing to stay vertical from 11pm-7am. I've been to other hotels where they let the staff sit down - I guess we know why there's a high turnover at this place.

I don't know how long he'll last. Poor thing is already dragging around like he hasn't slept in weeks. I gave him my black headband to block out the light & that helped him catch a few hours this morning, but he looked like he'd been run over by a truck when he left an hour ago. Oh yeah, they wanted him there at 2pm today. He does have tonight off but he still has a test in school to get through.

We know of a small hotel in town that will have a management position open starting in January, and we know the owners so he has a good chance of getting the job. We might have to chalk up this current position to learning the business. A little experience never hurt anyone. Well, except for the cancer part, but he hasn't been there long enough to have any ill-effects. Just lack of sleep and sore feet.

I am Part of the Solution

Ever been to a restaurant in another country and giggled over the owner's attempt at English translation?

Me too.

Ever wonder why they don't hire someone to properly translate the menu, considering it's a small, one-time price to pay for something that will influence your customers for years afterwards?

Well, one has.

Ibis has spent the past two weeks training to work the front desk at a swanky hotel in Ixtapa, and yesterday he came home with a printout of every item on their menu. All eight pages of it. We got halfway through when the ridiculousness of the whole thing finally got the best of us.

A few of the highlights:
(Our suggestion is in paratheses)

Atún con costra de ajonjoli
Tuna fish with sesame seed cover
(Sesame Tuna)

Bastones de verduras
Poles vegetables
(Vegetable Skewers)

Carnes frias y quesos
Delicatessen
(Sliced Meats and Cheeses)

Costilla de cerdo en salsa de ostiones
Costilla pork scallops in sauce
(Pork Ribs in Oyster Sauce)

Crema de calabeza
Pumpkin blossom of cream
(Cream of Squash)

Crema de huitlacoche
Cream grows
(cream of something)

Ensalada de pepino con yogurth
Cucumber salad with drinks
(Cucumber Salad with Yogurt)

Ensalada cesar con camarones
Cesar's salad with shrimp
(Ceasar Salad with Shrimp)

Estacion light
Diet station
(we think this is a salad bar)

Licuado de fresa
Liquified strawberry
(Strawberry Shake)

Ahhh, I could do this all day but I think you get the point. At least they realized they needed help. :)

Only four more pages to go!

Inspiration & Moving Forward

Yesterday I simultaneously became very excited about my next book idea and crashed to the ground in regards to my current memoir. My cousin Jenna and I have been emailing about inspiration and staying motivated, and her recent blog entries go into some of the same ideas I've mentioned in the past week. My inspiration struck when she emailed me an innocent question, asking if for my next book I planned to write another memoir or try fiction.

I've had several ideas bouncing around in my head but so far, nothing's stuck. I keep reading about people who have so many ideas they can't decide which to write, or actually write several at the same time. This has not been my problem. Common advice says to write what you'd like to read - that's where your passion lies and what will keep you interested as you write. Nothing worse than writing something that bores you - how are other people supposed to get into a story that you despise?

I sent her a rambling answer, finally sputtering that I'd like to write fiction. I feel I have another memoir or two in me, but frankly, I'm getting a little bored with myself and I'd like a chance to write in third person. As we wrote back & forth, an idea struck - not a new idea, one of the many in my head - but a different spin that what I'd originally been thinking.

I'm not ready to share that idea just yet, so you'll have to forgive me my ambiguity.

Shortly after this exchange, I hopped over to Nathan Bransford's blog - one on my daily reading list. His latest post, Writing is Fundamental, talks about how our culture believes if something strange, exciting, or mildly different from the status quo happens in your life, you should write a book. People tell you that you should write a book. His comment that struck me:

"Sometimes, yes, crazy things happen to a writer and they write a book about it. But it's just not true that everyone has a book in them, or rather, that everyone can write the book that's in them. Writers write books -- not people with interesting stories to tell."

Then, one of the posters, Karen Duvall, had this to say:

"I think new writers need to get that first autobiographical book out of their system before they can go on to something serious. Plus, it's a powerful learning tool. "Write what you know." Well, what do any of us know better than our own lives? But we should also know better than to try to have it published."

Talk about a blow to the ego. I believe I am both a writer and someone with a story interesting enough for people to read. Sure, I'm also banking on the fact that I know a lot of people and I know (hint, hint) all of them would rush out & buy my book the moment it (fingers crossed) hits Amazon, but I've read other's writing, people who are also new at this & want to share their story, and I think I'm (dare I say it) better than some of them.

I tried not to let my disappointment get to me while I edited, rather I'm trying to use this as further motivation to write a kickass story. I think I can & there are people who've had their first success, meaning they've been published, with a memoir. So I'll keep plugging along.

Fortunately, my day ended back on top. I climbed into bed, ready to read a book, when details for my new story idea took over. I jumped up to scribble my thoughts in my journal, excited that my brain seems happy with this idea. Another piece of advice I keep reading is to clear your mind so the story can tell itself; that you're really just the person typing or writing, your characters are the ones with the story to tell. It seems like a bunch of BS to me - combined with the frustration that no ideas were fighting for priority, I didn't see how one would just flow from my fingers.

Well, as soon as I opened my book, the entire first scene played itself out in my mind. Character descriptions, scenery, ambience, all of it. This time I brought my journal into my room and kept it there in case this happened all night. I wrote maybe 500 words, and while I'm not ready to start a new Word document, I do feel I'm well on my way.

Startled by a Cruise Ship

No matter how many times I see it, I cannot get used to the image of a ginormous cruise ship anchored here in town. Cannot. Sure, it fits the scenery - rough mountains circling a glimmering bay, the sun bouncing off fishing boats dotted throughout the water* - but when I go out on the balcony to change loads of laundry I DO NOT expect to see a Carnival luxury liner.

(I just double-checked, it is a Carnival ship.)

You'd think I'd be accustomed to it by now. One stops here at least once a week, sometimes as often as three or four times, and we can see them from our place. But being a Midwest girl, cruise ships are not among the things I expect to see when looking out my window.

Things I do expect to see: stray dogs, clothes hanging to dry, children playing basketball, naked babies, the gas truck, pigeons, cats chasing the pigeons, junk people have thrown on their roofs, trees, mountains, and smoke.

Anyway, I am happy to see it because it brings lots of tourists, who bring lots of money, which means families will be fed tonight.

Speaking of which, Ibis just started cooking lunch & the smell of garlic is drifting in from the kitchen. For those of you who haven't seen pictures of our place & don't already know, I should really say the oil from the stove is splattering me since the kitchen is 2 feet from my desk.

Bon appetit!


*Sorry about that. Moment of weakness. I'm dizzy with hunger.

Karaoke Hero

Since Thanksgiving, I have sung karaoke twice. I should preface that by saying while I love to sing & often do quite loudly in the privacy of my car or living room, I'm not big on singing in front of other people. Except Ibis - who do you think I'm usually singing with?

Anyways, the Friday after Thanksgiving I hung out with my friend Kris at her brother's place, where they busted out this wonderful game called Rock Band. Her boyfriend Brad has Guitar Hero (at which I hear my nephew is THE master) so he ran out to buy this game. It has drums, a guitar AND a microphone so at least three people play at once. I won't get into how it works here, but Kris and I somehow ended up on vocals. Yeah, there's a reason we both went into graphic design. Anyway, we finally found a song we rocked on - Wanted Dead or Alive, thank you very much - and we ended the night feeling like we ARE a Rock Band.

Cut to yesterday. Ibis and I drove to spend the day with his family for a huge fish dinner and, you guessed it, karaoke. And yes, it was all in Spanish. No one sang an entire song, they passed the microphone around the room so all twelve people had a chance to sing. My only hesitation was I didn't know most of the songs. Add my lack of conversational Spanish with not knowing the melody and I was a little gun-shy, but after watching them & laughing along with the family, I jumped up and down at the first song I knew.

They looked at me with amazement - they'd never heard me sing OR say so many words at a time. (Yes, it was amazement, not horror. Now stop questioning me.) Shortly after that, one of my favorite songs came up so Ibis and I sang a duet, and yes, it was bad. My shining moment came towards the end of the day when I knew a song better than Ibis and two of his brothers. It was even a fast one! I am so proud.

I am the Karaoke Hero. :)

* * * * *

I did see a few random things: a man washed his horse in the middle of the street while we were eating lunch, then we passed a car that had just flipped on the side of the road while on our way back home.

Temp: 88°
Humidity: 75%

And I've edited through page 100, having successfully conquered the Mexican Consulate.

(psst... I'm sometimes a little sarcastic)

Ok, I'm really starting to question my writing abilities. I was completely joking yesterday when I said I was tempted to give up on my book, but I received several inspirational emails not to give up. I appreciate the support, I really do, but I'm not quitting at the easy part!

Querying, writing the query, waiting for requests, writing a synopsis, waiting, waiting, getting rejected, waiting... THAT'S where I'll need the encouragement!

I'm a little stuck on my description of my first visit to the Mexican Consulate, but I read a bit from my writing book and I'm feeling more motivated. I'm also quite amused at some of the logistical errors I've made - a side-effect of writing with the edit button turned off. The current one is I got in line, then in the next paragraph was still walking to the building. Small details.

Anyway, one sweet thing I thought I'd share happened while I was in Chicago. My brother is living in my old apartment & we left quite a few things in his care. Including my plants. When I arrived, I was sweetly surpised to see my plants alive & thriving! Now I feel like I have something waiting for me when we go back. Aww.

I've also decided to add a new feature to each blog entry. I bought a thermometer while I was home & it's now sitting one foot above my computer. Each I will include the temp & humidity reading, just because I can! Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Temp: 90°
Humidity: 73%

I'm Not the First?

Last night, my mother saw a friend who just returned from a vacation right here in lovely Zihuatanejo. This friend has been here several times and mentioned that she follows several blogs from ex-pats in this area.

Excuse me?

I thought I was the first person blogging from this area. I did not give permission to anyone else to share their thoughts on the world wide web. Shouldn't this have been run by me first?

(Actually, I've been meaning to google keywords to see if I pop up, but I keep getting sidetracked watching cruise ships, trying to decipher the megaphoned trucks passing by our house, distinguishing between firecrackers & gunshots - you know, normal stuff.)

Next you'll tell me I'm not the first person to write about their personal experiences living in another country. I realize there are very few original ideas out there (a topic I've recently dicussed with my fellow blogging cousin) but the trick is giving it a new twist. Putting a new spin on a tired idea, or something like that. Injecting your soul into every word so the story leaps off the page!

Pfft.

I may as well scrap this project and get started on the next one. I'm debating between a tongue-in-cheek story about an endearing British woman who can't find love OR lose weight, or this wizard idea that focuses on a geeky kid named Harry. I'm sure one of these is bound to be a hit.

A New Tradition

Not new for me, just in terms of my blog. I get migraines about once a month and this month is no different. What's made this one extra-special is it started on the way to the airport at 3am yesterday and is still going strong. Surprisingly the air pressure didn't make it worse and I was able to sleep a bit. A magical fairy even refilled my water while I slept. :)

I wasn't sure what to expect when I landed. Ibis & I had worked out three plans for my arrival: 1) he'd duck out of work long enough to pick me up, 2) he'd leave the car in the parking lot before work & I'd drive myself home, or 3) I'd take a cab.

Now, the cab option is not as cut & dried as it may seem. The cabbies that hang out at the arrivals gate charge 250 pesos (very expensive) but if you can catch one at the exit - one who dropped someone off & didn't stick around for a new fare - they'll charge under 100 pesos. If I didn't see Ibis or the car, I was supposed to drag my bags through the parking lot & try to barter for a cab there. Right... and did I mention I managed to fit all my books in my bags? That's 100 pounds I'm supposed to haul through the blazing sun WITH a migraine, no food & very little sleep? He did say I could take a more expensive cab and just not tell him what I spent, so that's sweet.

Lucky for him ('cause, man, would he have heard about it later) I saw Ibis waving as soon as I got through Customs. He brought me home, carried all my bags upstairs, then went back to work. I slept for six hours, had dinner, then slept another nine hours. Hopefully I'll feel better by tomorrow.

PS: For those of you who know how bright our condo is during the day & were wondering how I slept so long... you know those two-inch wide stretchy headbands you use to work out or wash your face at night? A black one works wonders as an eye mask!

Saying Goodbye

Today's the last day of my two-week visit home and while I'm more than ready to get back to Ibis, I'm sad to say goodbye to my family. We'll see my parents in a couple months, but I don't know when I'll see my sister & her family.

That goodbye turned much sadder when half an hour before I left, they decided it was time to put down their dog, Kita. She'd been a part of the family for 13 years and her youngest in particular was very upset to see her go. I'm glad I was able to pet her one last time - a luxury I didn't have with my own dog two years ago - but it was tough driving away from the house.

Since moving to another country, my goodbyes have taken on a stronger meaning than when I was only a few hours away. You never know what might happen tomorrow, next week, or next year, and I find myself searching for a conclusion of sorts in case I never see that person again. Some of that may come from my fear of flying, but I'm sure most of it is just growing older and watching loved ones pass on.

On a lighter note, I'll also have to say goodbye to half the books I want to take with me. 24 books is a bit excessive, plus I bought 17 movies, and I'd rather not check an extra bags just for my entertainment needs. One more thing for mom when she visits in February.

My flight is early tomorrow morning, so I may not post until Thursday. Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving and ... goodbye.

White Friday

Today is Black Friday - the day people go crazy & camp out in front of stores with the hope of getting a $10 digital camera or two free toasters with every purchase. I've never participated in the shopping madness, so I'll just have to trust those of you who do that it's the bees knees.

Instead, I plan to spend the morning looking out at the falling snow and playing games with my grandma. I get to drive in it later to see my best friend, then tonight I'll probably go out with my dad & brother. Very exciting. :)

Oh, and I finally started editing AND it's not as horrible as I originally thought. I still cringe a little at a few of the things I've written, but I've also laughed, so that's a good sign. I'll try to keep up the momentum.

I hope you're all having a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend!

Same Old, Same Old

So apparently* life isn't much different when I switch countries. This morning I went for a run, got chased by a dog, had my coffee, then hopped online. Granted, the dog belonged to someone and just wanted company - he wasn't nipping at my heels in the hopes a bit of flesh might come loose for breakfast - but he was blond and there aren't many blond dogs in Zihua. It was nice to have company on the run; I've gotten used to having Ibis by my side, and since he doesn't talk while we're out there anyway, there wasn't much difference.

My grandma is on her way here for a couple days, and tomorrow we'll gorge ourselves at my aunt & uncle's house. Friday my best friend will be here, then I'll spend the weekend with my sister & her family.

It occured to me someone (yes, you) might be interested to know which books I bought, so I'll share:

On Writing, Stephen King
The Elements of Style (4th Ed), Strunk & White
Telling True Stories, lots of contributors
Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers
Sudoku On-The-Go! Advanced 2
Wht I Wore Lipstick to My Mastectomy, Geralyn Lucas
Look Me In the Eye, John Elder Robinson

I forced myself to put Running With Scissors by Augusten Burroughs back on the shelf & added it to my wish list.

I've read reviews of all the writing books, which is why I bought them, but I'd love to hear if you've read any of these & what you thought!

Gramma just pulled up so I better run!

*my mother pointed out that I cannot spell the word apparently. A Parent was the tip she gave so I will never make this mistake again. Thanks mom. :)

I Feel So... Noble

I feel at peace. I just spent over four hours at the bookstore, walking up and down the aisles, relaxing in an overstuffed chair, eating the free brownie a lovely Starbucks employee handed out; it was heavenly. I bought four writing books, three memoirs and one Sudoku book (on discount) and managed to stay within my budget. Well, close enough.

My weekend in Chicago was a lot of fun. Busy, but fun. I ate a lot of food (including Mexican - sweet another Corona), played volleyball, danced at an Arab club and managed to go running a couple times. The rest of this week will be spent relaxing with the family. It's not as cold as it was my first couple days back, but they promise a drop in temps for Thanksgiving. Those meteorologists, so giving.

My mother finished reading the first/rough draft of my book and overall the reviews are positive. Now, I know what you're thinking, She's your mother, of course she likes it, but she has critted before and reads like crazy so I trust her judgement. I swear I'll start my own editing soon.

Just as soon as I polish off that pumpkin pie...

Who Turned Down the Heat?

Ok, I know it's Michigan, and I know it's November, but there are FLURRIES outside. I have been in 90+ temperatures for the past six months and my first day home it snows? I don't know about this...

My flights yesterday were the most uneventful yet. Perhaps I've figured out the trick: promise to write about exciting and disasterous events you're sure will take over the journey and no...thing...will...hap...pen. Not to worry, there's still the return trip (said as I look around the room, wondering if the gods have caught on to my whole 'tempting fate' idea).

My mother is halfway through my first draft and said she even laughed out loud a couple times; that makes up for my dread at her reading the parts to come. Everyone I've talked with agrees that it's more than a little embarrasing when your mother realizes the bizarre story before her came from the mind of her offspring. My dad read the beginning, too, but he already knows I'm weird.

I'll be in Chicago through Monday so I don't plan to post again till then. Happy weekend before Thanksgiving!

Flight of the Bumblebee

No, not me, although I am flying out today.

I'm talking about bumblebees. Yesterday. Over a dozen of them in our house. We noticed a hornet's nest on the front window several weeks ago, but hadn't done anything to get rid of it. Now I'm not convinced it has hornets - those bees came from someplace and there were way too many for them to just be out for a stroll. Fly? Glide? Anyway.

For a minute we thought we'd get to see a Hornet on Bumblebee Smackdown, but the hornets don't appear to be as brave as they seem when it's Us vs. Them.

The stupid bees filled our living room and kitchen. Yes, we were cooking, but I didn't think they liked shrimp. We opened all the windows and the front door, then aimed the fans on high to 'encourage' them to leave, but noooo, it was all fun & games for them! We ate lunch with them swarming just feet away; I'm scared of bees and was terrified or being stung (what if I can't go home?) but nothing happened.

Ibis had to leave - you're leaving me here with these blood-hungry insects? - and I managed to trap five in each window, between the panes. Half an hour later, the floor was covered with whimpering fuzzies. Well, not really covered, I think I saw two, but you get the point.

I showed them who's boss and they hightailed it out of here!

My plane leave in a couple hours - I'll do my best to post while I'm gone.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

When we first looked at our condo, the developers told us an American woman owns the unit below ours. The unit looked finished and there was furniture inside, but there hadn't been a sighting.

Until today! She's in town for a couple weeks and not only is she very nice, she knows everyone in town. The job market it pretty tight, but she know so of at least one restaurant undergoing renovations and looking to hire. Hopefully that will turn into a job for Ibis.

*****

Editing is going slowly. I had hoped to rewrite the first couple chapters before leaving for the States, but I think I'll have to settle with light edits on the whole book instead. That takes a little pressure off, for now.

I'm not sure how often I'll update this while I'm home, but if my last couple trips are any indication, I'll have all kinds of stories to share.

What Am I Doing in Mexico?

Getting ready to leave! I fly to Michigan this Wednesday - for two weeks! - and I can't wait. I'm supposed to be editing but instead I'm taking pictures of the condo to show people back home. I packed yesterday so I wouldn't screw around today, but that plan is failing miserably.

The only odd thing to report is a marked increase in the number of gunshots in the neighborhood. I don't think anyone's been shot, it seems to be more of a celebratory thing, but they startle me every time. What are we celebrating? I have no clue, but they sure are happy!

Along those same lines, the neighbors have been lighting firecrackers for about a week. Ibis said they just went on sale for Christmas (I don't understand what the two have to do with one another) and that's why we hear them at all hours of the day. It's louder at night, obviously, but a few go off every hour, regardless of the sun's position in the sky. I guess there's something to be said for big bangs, even if you can't see the light.

I will be here for Christmas, so if I discover the correlation between the birth of Christ and fireworks, I'll let you know.

Crocodile Hunter: Mexico Style

Imagine: you're at the beach, hitting a volleyball back and forth with your husband, when screams sound from the water. People are running for the shore, holding their children above the surface.

Shark? you wonder.

This is the Pacific, stranger things have happened. You walk towards them to see what's going on. Scanning the water you spot a pair of eyes and a bumpy head break the surface.

Crocodile!

Yes, a crocodile. In the ocean. A whopping two feet long, tail included.

There's a small wildlife sanctuary (for lack of a better word) at one of the hotels and one of the critters got out. I thought there was a net or something to keep them in, but apparently they're free to roam as they please. A lot of people went back in the water when they realized how small it was, while others crowded near the water's edge, trying to spot him. An American woman told me her husband saw a seven-footer that morning – I bet the swimmers would run for cover if they knew momma might be close by.

The crocodile didn't do much; he would drift with the current, then swim back to where he started. After a while, activity on the beach went back to normal... until a new wave of screams erupted from the same area. These were different people who didn't know they were sharing the waves with a toothy beast.

Ibis can't pass up this much excitement, so he joined his lifeguard buddy and ran into the water. They were going to catch him! Right. I watched from shore as they dove and splashed, yelling "Alla esta" every few minutes. Ten minutes later he returned empty handed. No croc for him today.

I was hot from playing volleyball and wanted to go in the water for a minute, just long enough to cool off, but I was afraid to go in by myself so I made Ibis go with me. We waded up to our waists and were jumping the waves when a fisherman passed by (he was in the water fishing with a large net) and said something to us. I didn't understand what he said (shocking) and all Ibis said to me was "Don't jump around too much."

"Huh? Why?"

"There's a lot of rays in the sand." As in sting rays. The creature that killed Steve Irwin, the real Crocodile Hunter. We looked at each other and ran for shore.

No sense tempting fate twice.

I Made a Waterfall

Have I mentioned I'm a genius?

I'm almost done editing a chapter and as soon as I finish, Ibis and I are off to the beach. I got up a minute ago to get a glass of water and discovered a pool in my kitchen. Not the aqua dug-out variety, but rather a large body of water on my kitchen floor.

We ate lunch less than an hour ago and I JUST cleaned, so I immediately blamed Ibis for the water. "What did you do?" He gave me a weird look - he hasn't moved from the couch since lunch - as I looked for the source of the water.

It seemed to be coming from the fridge... nope, not there. I opened the freezer... oh, right. I'd put a bottle of water in there, hoping it'd get cold by the time we left for the beach. It was cold all right, but no longer inside the bottle. Most was frozen to the bottom of the freezer and everything else in there, and I was standing in the rest.

The bottle is too tall for the freezer so I had to lay it on it's side, but I swear I checked if the lid was on tight. I even double-checked a few minutes later. Oh well, at least now the floor is clean.

Anyone care to go swimming?

I Knew I Was Forgetting Something

If you've been reading along, you know I finished the first draft of my memoir last week and started the evil editing a few days later. I've found a new friend & beta-reader, and she's helped kick my butt in gear, yet I still have that niggling feeling that I'm forgetting something.

I've breezed through my draft, glanced over the chapters, and for the most part, things are where they should be. I shuffled a few sections around & double-checked the order of my chapters when it hit me.

I haven't written about the immigration process. D'oh.

The one-line description of my book (so far) is "A fish-out-of-water tale with an illegal immigration twist." Might be important to include a detail or two about immigration.

*bangs head against desk*

Don't get me wrong. I've mentioned the illegal part, meeting with our lawyer, that sort of thing, but I haven't gone into the particulars. How am I supposed to pitch a book when I forgot to write my hook? I knew I'd have a lot of rewriting to do, so the work isn't a surprise, just my ignorance.

Ibis pointed out this is my first book and I can't expect to get it right the first try, so I guess I'll chalk this up to experience.

Spirits in the Kitchen

Tequila, wine... oh wait, not THOSE spirits.

Spirits. Ghosts. In the Kitchen. Lucky for us they're not in our kitchen. Yesterday Ibis' sister called and said a basket of eggs had fallen on the floor, breaking all the eggs. But the basket had not moved - it was exactly where she left it. No one in the house claimed responsibility so she decided it was ... the spirits.

Right.

Now, she's not a particularly religious or superstitious person, so we were both surprised she said that. I think someone knocked it over, put the basket back on the counter, and now won't fessing up. Or it was the spirits.

Oy.

***

Two other minor things: we're officially in Day 2 of Migraine Watch (and an electric saw just started outside as soon as I wrote that) AND I found a video that any and all Dirty Dancing fans must watch. A couple recreated the final dance for their wedding and they nailed it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYhlm9GTAQ0&eurl

I haven't figured out how to make that an actual link so please copy & past into a new window. Enjoy!

It's Migraine Day!

In honor of Migraine Day, I'll refrain from shouting and will whisper instead.

Lucky for me, the entire world got the memo about Migraine Day. It's very bright outside. Our neighbor's music has been blasting all day. The dogs in the street keep barking. I had to do real work so I can make some money. And my book keeps telling me I should be editing instead of chatting online.

I did manage to go for a run this morning but I've spent the rest of the day inside. Here's to hoping it's not a two-day celebration!

Let There Be Light

It's been a quiet day today. We paid the phone/internet bill, which I only mention because you have to pay in person. We set it up for automatic payments but apparently the first step is to go to the office, wait in the long line, and tell them to pay your bill with the cash you hand them.

Au-to-ma-tic.

We also picked up a few more things for the condo, including a light fixture for outside the front door. I've grown more than a little tired of the bare bulb in a socket that seems to be the standard around here, and I've known what I wanted for months, but we kept finding reasons to put it off. What changed? Yesterday my parents booked their trip for February so we have a new list of things to finish before they arrive, starting with the lights. With this fixture we'll only have two bare bulbs left - so close!

***

I started editing last night and I now understand why all the advice says to wait a week or four before picking it back up. I started somewhere near the middle, focusing on grammatical errors more than anything else, and I don't know what possessed me to write this in the first place. I still believe I have a good story to share but, my goodness, I'm NOT enjoying this process.

I'm hoping to skim through it just to catch the glaring errors, then leave the rest to work on in Michigan. I also have more freelance work (!!!) so I'm suddenly busy again.

Oh, and my mom killed a deer on her way to work this morning. She's okay, but that's scary!

How Do You Stop a Raging Bull?

Smack him in the face with a rope.

I didn't know that either until we were driving north to visit Ibis' family. We passed a boy no more than 12-years old struggling to get a bull to cross the street. Traffic on the 2-lane highway had come to a stop by the time we got there and we watched him fight to control this animal that was at least ten times his size.

The bull seemed to calm down when he jerked his head around and stared directly at the boy.

Smack!

The bull dropped his head again. We drove away before the drama ended, but the boy seemed to know more about handling bulls than many of the men cowering nearby.

That reminds me of a poster I saw as we were leaving town. A poster for bullfights, coming soon, to Zihua. The odd part? The men in the posters were wearing bikinis. As in I'm proud of what I've got, bring on the Speedo, bikini. I asked Ibis if they actually perform that way and he said, "Yes, it's just another gimmick." Add bullfighting to things I need to see, along with Mexican wrestling.

There were a few sad moments as we saw not one, but two, dead dogs in the road. We're in Mexico, it happens, but it's still sad.

The man riding a mule a few miles later (and just before the boy & the bull) made up for it a little.

I also met my newest niece, one-month old Evelyn, and discoverd Brian can pee in a potty. Big day.

Day of the Dead

Friday was Dia de los Muertos, Day of the Dead, here in Mexico so during yesterday's visit with Ibis' family, we stopped by his mother's grave. It's been almost ten months since she passed away but only the second time I've visited the cemetery. Flowers covered most of the tombs, some arranged in permanent vases, others jammed in the cut-off bottoms of 2-liter soda bottles.

Her grave is one of the simplest there: a slab of concrete with three inch-deep circles at the top. No headstone; no marker of who lies there. The siblings are still trying to agree what they want as a final memorial to their mother, and how they'll pay for it. We brought a small bucket that fit perfectly in one of the circles and dropped in the white flowers we brought.

(You'll have to excuse me here, I don't know much about flowers. They were the fluffy kind with tons of petals that are easily removed and used for decorating.)

The flowers arranged, Ibis and I sat on his mother's grave with his sister Karla and her son Brian, a beach umbrella blocking the sun. Not much was said, except to keep Brian from exploring and knocking over the flowers on other graves. We stayed for about half an hour, watching other families across the cemetery and the lizards near our feet. When a bull bellowed near our car, we took that as a warning and decided to head back to the house.

Jason Bourne = Genius

Last night I took a much-deserved break from writing (since I'm done, ha!) and popped in a movie. The second Bourne one, Supremacy I think it is. Anyway, I was lying on the couch, fully absorbed in the jiggly hand-held-camera fight scenes and... my story would not get out of my head.

There are no fight scenes in my book. No running from the super-secret non-existant CIA black-ops team. Matt Damon doesn't even appear till the ninth chapter. Yet that's what I was thinking about.

An oft-repeated guideline for writers is "allow yourself to write crap." Get the words out, get through the sucky part and the goodness will flow.* I followed that advice and was fortunate that for me, a crap-writing day was usually followed by several hey-this-is-pretty-good days. Unfortunately, most of the crap ended up in the first four chapters. You know, the section potential agents request when they want to sample your book. Ideas to fix those chapters have been bouncing around in the back of my head for about a month now, but nothing's stuck.

Until last night.

While watching two hotties try to kill each other on the streets of Moscow, genius struck. It'll take some work to rewrite, but I anticipated that, and at least now I have a direction. NOW I'm feeling the relief I expected two days ago. Double ahh.

We're visiting Ibis' family in Lazaro tomorrow so I'm taking the day off from the computer. Monday I start editing. Wish me luck.

Melanie


*I believe I've also used this description for water. Forgive me.

Ahhhhhhhhhh

Today's been a good day. Ibis finished the bathroom vanity, there's another cruise ship out my window, and I finished my first draft! Yes, that's right. I knew it was coming but didn't expect it to happen last night. I'm not feeling the huge sigh of relief I expected because I already have a bagful of edits waiting for me.

I also don't have the conclusion written, but as we're still here and don't know our outcome, I think I'll have to let that slide for now. I have written some bits and pieces and I know the direction I'd like it to take - duh, us going back to the States - so that's the most I can do until we hear from Immigration.

But it's wrapped up. Sitting nice and pretty on my hard drive, external hard drive, email and a CD. Maybe I'll also email it to my mom, just in case. I planned to take today to relax but I've spent all day on the computer anyway. The timing was perfect because my freelance project reared its head today and I'd be mad if I'd planned to start editing.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll tackle my story.

Today I'll marvel at my finished vanity, watch the ship and enjoy my day.

Update

We have water! Woot!

Of course, I already bathed in a bucket for the third time in two days, but Ibis got to take a real shower.

I'm sure the power will go out any minute now.

NaNoWoes

Today is the first day of NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writers Month, and anyone who's anyone is participating. Except me. I feel like such a slacker.

I have good excuses for excusing myself:

- I'll be in Michigan for 2 weeks and my
computer cable doesn't stretch that far

- I'm this close to finishing my first draft and
don't want to lose momentum

- I only have 4 ounces of steam left after this last
push to finish & don't think I can do another
50K words this month


Lame? Maybe. But instead I'm toying with the idea of doing NaFeWriMo - a February version! My friend Jennifer did some research and informed me that '08 is a leap year so there's 29 days instead of the usual 28. That extra day could make all the difference!

By February I should (said while holding breath) be done with one or two rounds of edits and possibly even submitting, so it'll be time for my second book. I kind of want to follow up with another memoir, but we'll see.

Speaking of agents, I read Nathan Bransford's blog every day but rarely post. Yesterday I asked a basic question about genres he represents and he answered right back. Cause for celebration, no? I feel like I'm stalking him, screen capturing every time he responds to something I've said, but he's the one agent I already know I plan to submit to and it's so exciting that he knows I exist! At least in a 'who is this random woman and why does she keep pestering me?' kind of way.

*sigh*

Anyway... To update further on the water issue, we have a little water, enough to wash dishes but not enough to shower or do laundry. Someday...

Smelly Halloween

Our water is out, again. We have drinking water, that's not the problem. What we don't have is that liquidy-goodness that's supposed to flow from the faucet when I turn the handle. I turn it... and... nothing. Earlier there was a tiny drip but now it's completely dry. The containers on the roof are full, we've been told, it's just not getting to us.

Right. I figured that out already.

This has been a problem since we moved in last May. New development, still under construction, you'd be stupid not to expect a few bumps along the way. Our first month in the condo we had water or electricity, never both. So you bathed in the dark or stank in the light. About a month ago the developers said they installed a new pump so this shouldn't happen anymore, yet we've run out of water every four days for the past month.

Things were normal when we left for our morning run, but when we got home I went to wash my face, turned the handle and a teeny drop of water clung to the spout. Not the gush of water I was expecting. Sometimes air gets trapped in the pipes and if we let it run for a bit it fixes itself. Not this time.

That was five hours ago. We've told the developers twice that there's no water, yet I'm still sitting here in my running clothes. Smelling wonderfully. It's supposed to be over 95° today and we don't have air so I'll leave the rest to your imagination. To answer your question, Yes, I can bathe with the drinking water but it brings to mind the richies who wash with Evian and it just feels so wrong. I did break down and washed my face, but I draw the line there.

Update: Apparently, ahem, la bomba no esta funcionando y necesita cambiar con la otra. No habia agua hasta manana. No water until tomorrow. Fantastic.

I did finally bathe around 3pm when Ibis got home and filled up a couple buckets downstairs. Phew!

Daylight Savings was Sunday

But we didn't find out until Monday night. Yep, we went two whole days not knowing the time had changed. I'm thinking we should start watching the local news every now and then.

Ibis came home from class last night upset because I'd made him leave an hour early. More like shoved him out the door, but whatever. He was supposed to meet with the Canadian woman at 4pm to go over the lessson plans and that's when he found out. I was oblivious for another five hours. This has never happened to me before and I'm still a little off-kilter.

(She ended up not teaching the class and they said it was fine, they had someone else who could do it. Tormenting me was just a fun pasttime.)

In other news, we both got sick at 5am this morning. I feel fine now so whatever it was went right through me, but I was having flashbacks to last month when I had a really nasty virus that ended with an evil injection. The first time I got sick, we'd eaten at our favorite fonda at the mercado the day before and while I thought too much time passed for that to be the cause, we haven't gone back. Until yesterday. Hmm... another lesson learned?

Fancy Meeting You Here

As I posted earlier, Friday I was 'told' I'd be teaching an English class starting today. The more I thought about it the more my nerves took over and by Sunday night I could barely hold my food down. I know this isn't a huge deal, but the thought of walking into a classroom full of teenagers that speak a language I only half understand makes me a tad, ahem, witchy.

The teacher's guidebook was no help. One example of possessive pronouns stated: this is my parrot and that cage is its. And we wonder why kids don't learn to speak proper English in school.

By the time we went out I'd flat out told him I wouldn't do it. Something about me taking a stand against him making committments for me without discussing it first. As soon as I said 'No' the nausea was gone and I felt more like myself, but that didn't mean we'd resolved our problem.

Anyways, last night we tried a new bar to watch Game 4 and while we were chatting with the owner, in walked his Candian wife. Blond hair, blue eyes, my color skin. I leaned over to Ibis, "She could teach the class." I meant it as a joke, but we started talking with her and before long Ibis popped the question.

Turns out she's lived here five years and has taught English all over town. She seemed almost happy to help, just like that. Go figure. We chatted during the game, even watched the last couple innings on her cell phone (being Mexico, they turned the channel for a futbol game) and I think I can say we have new friends.

Olé!

So I Married a ... Translator?

Today we went to the market for lunch... mmm, mole... and as we walked back to the car we encountered a man selling small plants. From a wheelbarrow. Several months ago we visited a local nursery to get an idea of the type of plants we want and while we've yet to purchase anything, we know we need something to liven up the joint.

These plants we cute - less than a foot tall in round clay pots with white stones to make them purty. One looked like a bonsai tree, there were a couple spider-plants and one could only be described as a psuedo-palm tree. Very cute, but I had doubts as to how long they'd survive once we rescued them from the street and brought them home. Something about roots needing space to grow...

The man said the price, 140 pesos. Ibis laughed at him and said he's not a tourist, that he lives right here.

"Oh, yo sé, tu eres el traductor. Cien pesos." Oh, I know, you're her translator. 100 pesos.

Ibis clarified, said that I'm his wife, but the joke was born. Apparently this isn't the first time this has happened and it almost makes up for me constantly being mistaken for being a tourist.

We didn't buy any plants but I plan to take my translator to the nursery again soon.

Close Encounter with a Questionable Tourist

Last night we had a big night out - pizza then off to a bar to watch Game 3 of the World Series. (We don't go out much these days so a restaurant AND a bar is a big deal). I spent as much time watching the game as I did watching the people, mostly tourists with a few locals sprinkled in. One couple sat between us and the TV and I assumed they were from the US because he had the typical American-man-on-vacation uniform: button down shirt & loose khaki pants. I made a couple comments about them, wondering where they were from, that sort of thing, when Ibis informed me he was probably a drug dealer.

Um, okay? Yes, apparently men from the various drug cartels dress like him and I should avoid making eye contact because he's probably carrying a gun. What? He's going to shoot me for accidentally looking at him? In the middle of a crowded bar? Then why did he sit underneath the largest TV in the place? And since when is he an expert on Mexican drug cartels anyways?

I laughed it off and continued watching the game, but I could not stop looking at them. Being told to ignore them made me want to stare and find out everything I could. Are they married? Are they on vacation? Is she with him for his drug money? He only caught me looking at him once and I pretended my contact was flipping inside out to make up for the social slip. I think he would've bought, too, it if I hadn't been wearing my glasses.

By the time they left I decided they're harmless and my husband needs to put a muzzle on his imagination. At least when it comes to drug dealers masquerading as tourists.

Here We Go

I wasn't kidding about something happening every day. An hour after I posted last night, while I was still playing around with the design here, my husband, Ibis, came home and announced I have a job. Now, I didn't ask for a job. I'm quite content to sit in front of my computer, writing my book and chatting with friends online, but he seems to think we need money to survive.

A couple weeks ago he came home from his night class and declared he found me a job teaching English at a high school. Yes, I speak English, have all my life, but I don't know the first thing about teaching it. After a mild panic attack I told him I didn't think I was ready for something like that and please tell the director thanks, but no thanks.

He arranged for us to give two private lessons last week, but the students never showed. I was panicked about the private lessons but at least the lessons would be one-on-one, not me standing in front of a roomful of angsty teens.

Cut to last night. He came home and announced the director of his school handed him a book and told him I start teaching class on Monday. Apparently my sweet husband never actually spoke to the director. Ibis says he tried, but the director was always busy. So, now I'm teaching a class of thirty-odd students. At least I have a lesson plan/book. No interview, no idea what to wear, not sure what I'm getting paid. Oh, and no work permit, but I'm sure that'll get sorted out.

It's a two-week class, they devote that amount of time to each topic, so at least I know there's an end in sight. I originally thought I'd be teaching at a regular high school but now I find out it's the class across the hall from Ibis' class, so I can already imagine them asking me to teach his class next. At least I'll be able to get him back for throwing me into this completely unprepared.

I'm not panicking as much as I expected but I'm sure by Monday afternoon I'll be a nervous wreck. I'll be sure to let you know how it goes.

Melanie

Introductions, blah blah

I'm new to the blogging game, so bear with me. I decided to start a blog because I can't put all my ideas in my book. Yeah, my book. I'm writing a memoir about my experiences here in Mexico and since I first put pen to paper (er, fingers to keyboard) things just keep on happening. So many things that if I don't put a leash on my cute little memoir it will soon rival War and Peace. I have no war, and only a little peace, so I'm sparing the unsuspecting agents who might receive my manuscript and putting my thoughts here instead.

I've read that a non-fiction writer needs a platform, something to back up the declaration that I am worthy to write this book. Memoir is a little different since I doubt anyone could argue I'm not qualified to write about my life, but here it is anyway: platform, platform, platform.

Something bizarre is bound to happen before long, so I'll be posting again soon. I already have a couple stories lined up for those days I don't leave the house.

Thanks for dropping by.

Melanie