My life is like...

A really good friend of mine has the following on her Facebook profile:

“My life is like one long episode of Seinfeld.” (I would even venture to add that it’s like that with “I Love Lucy” reruns thrown in for good measure. I think she would agree.)

It got me thinking…what is my life like?

Here are two I came up with:

My life is like a box of melted chocolates that got thrown back in the freezer.

The chocolate is all funky looking and white and kinda powdery. Did you know that white stuff is called “bloom”? AND that it doesn’t affect the taste or quality of the chocolate? The fat’s just separating from the cocoa.

God allows me to melt through circumstance; situations brought on by my own, sometimes poor, choices. He throws me in the freezer occasionally to allow for restoration. But then, I get taken out and it seems to start all over. But guess what? I’m bloomin’ and the fat of my life is separating. My essence remains. Hopefully, who I am in my messed up human self begins to move away from the who I am the way God intended it.

My life is like a being on the shuffle setting. You’re usually pleasantly surprised by what your library throws at you.

Sometimes my life is angry, a la rage against the machine.

Sometimes I’m gushy and get to listen to buttery love songs serenaded by Alejandro Fernandez.

Sometimes juvenile…insert “Silly Songs by Larry” here.

Sometimes giggly. I love those “Real Men of Genius” songs.

Sometimes a dancing machine. She Bop!

Sometimes loud. Sometimes melancholy. Sometimes crazy. Sometimes lazy. Sometimes pensive. Sometimes chill. Sometimes lonely. Sometimes sentimental. Sometimes serious. Sometimes distracted.

But usually, I’m hopeful. Happy. Joyful. Focused on the ONE who loves me most and best.

What is your life like?

What the...?

What is wrong with this picture?

I'll tell you...

No guy
who fills out a shirt
like this
would be wearing
a shirt
that says this.

my life in stereo 2

These are the myriad sounds inside the house that you hear throughout the day and night.

1. My cell phone alarm that I snooze much more than I care to admit.
2. The coffee maker that's at work at about 8am, 12pm, 4 pm, 10pm...and a few other times in between. It makes a really loud gurgly noise and we're all willing to wait the half hour for it to brew 10 cups. We like our coffee in this house.
3. The phantom flushing of O's toilet downstairs.
4. The creeeaaakk-squeal sound of the oven door when someone reaches in for a pot or pan. Yeah, the oven doesn't work.
5. The fridge door squeaking open many times a day.
6. Someone in the kitchen cooking.
7. Someone in the kitchen washing dishes.
8. Someone in the kitchen putting away the dishes.
9. With #s 4-8...these happen almost constantly. There are 6 people in the house who either, like to cook, like to eat, is a neatfreak, or doesn't want to hear it from the neatfreak.
10. The shuffle shuffle shuffle of P as he walks in his house slippers. He moves as slow as molasses.
11. The clomp clomp clomp on the wooden stairs and tile floors of A who admits she has a lead foot.
12. The munch munch munch of O who is always eating AND loves to cook.
13. The REALLY LOUD laughter of J that sounds like he's heard the best joke ever and then sighs, "Que bien!".
14. The REALLY LOUD high pitched laughter of O, all the time, whether he's telling a joke, telling a story about growing up in Costa Rica, or watching "Bob Esponga" or "Los Simpsons" or just about anything.
15. The clickety-clack of all 6 people on their computer working...or chatting.
16. The clickety-clack of S as she plays Bubble Spinner on her macbook.
17. The really loud old school worship P plays in his room that's loud enough to hear from outside in front of the house two stories down when his room is the furthest back.
18. The really loud guitar coming from P's room when he's practicing his music for Sunday with the original song playing just as loudly. See #17 for reference to volume.
19. O's bass when he's practicing for Sunday. Not as loud as P. See #17 for reference to volume.
20. The tv with dubbed movies and shows from the states. I'm still trying to figure out who decides on who gets to do the voices. They don't match. (But, it's a lot better than what they used to do which was use ONE voice or one man and one woman voice.)

21. Or even better, the cheesy, scary sounds and background orchestration for "Lo Que La Gente Cuenta" (stories people share...about the supernatural supposedly based on true events. But it's kinda hard to get scared when you can pretty much predict which music is coming when the dead girl is gonna come out of the closet and kill the mean neighbor).
22. The playstation with some soccer, I mean, football game going for most of Monday (our day off).
23. The ping ping beep sound of P playing some form of tetris on his cellphone...pretty much ALL day, everyday.
24. The beginning notes of “America”—or “God Save the Queen”, take your pick—which means someone just rang our doorbell. This could be someone we know but more likely it’s someone selling something or asking for money.

25. The rusty squeaky sound of the ironing board on the hallway upstairs.

26. The rough wooden squeaky sound of all that doors that stick in this house.

27. The grating metal sound of the front door as it unlocks VERRRRY slowly.

my life in stereo

The sounds of my day...

The gray scottish terrier next door who incessantly barks from about 6 am to about 12:30 am. Add to that the sound of my grumbling "someone please shoot that dog". Add to that my yelling "NO!" when I go out to take out the trash and he's in our driveway digging in his trash and spreading it all over the curb...or snapping at me....IN MY OWN DRIVEWAY.

Or, he's barking at:

1. The cars speeding around the curves on either side of our house.
2. The Coca-Cola delivery truck (with roll up side doors) that comes by every so often to deliver two 2-liter bottles to the house across the street. Yep. That's it.
3. The garbage truck the honks his arrival about a quarter-mile down the road to give people time to remember to take out the trash so that it doesn't get destroyed by either a) the neighborhood dogs or b) people digging for cans or other recyclables but don't bother doing it 'neatly'.
4. The other 15 dogs in a six-house radius.
5. The gas truck that comes to deliver the propane when we are about to run out. I mean, who wants to take a cold shower or not have gas to heat up tortillas?
6. The man who walks in the middle of the street throughout the neighborhood (there are no sidewalks) blowing a bird whistle. (It's the same sound of the water whistle I had as a kid that made bird sounds and was shaped like a bird that my mom got me in Chinatown.) He'll sharpen your knives for a good price.
7. The trucks that drive by and advertise on their attached bullhorns.
8. The innumerable motorcycles and motorbikes that come by our street to deliver...pizza. mail. papers. tacos.
9. The other dog, 5 houses down--a golden lab--who's never inside that decides he wants to investigate everyone's trash, including the terrier's.
10. All the birds in the backyard, including the hummingbirds. I threw them in there even though, I'm pretty sure they're not very vocal. But there's the dove (okay, pigeon) sounds and the birds that sound like they're clearing their throat before they chirp.
11. The construction work going on next door. Not sure what they're working on but it involves a lot of concrete dust.
12. The car that honks incessantly at about 6 am to pick up someone for work across the street.
13. The kids across the street that head out to school, yelling to their friends.
14. The kids across the street that come back from school, yelling to their friends.
15. The kids across the street when they're playing in the street, yelling at each other.
16. The mama of the kids across the street yelling at them.
17. The random parties that last until...not nice hours.
18. The other guy that walks down the street yelling "Lava carrrrrooooossss!" (car wash)

Mental scrapbooking

I'm always inspired by themes. In fact, I've come to realize that I tend to think in themes with an undercurrent of the outline form. For the longest time, I'd said, I thought in outline form...I guess it's more of outline form with color. I scrapbook my thoughts. I suppose it helps me to organize my thoughts, quell my anxiousness, and helps me see the prettiness in things. More and more (with the help of many friends along my journey) I've begun to embrace the girly aspect of my personality; embrace being the key word. But, I've just noticed that in this last paragraph, there's been no form...no theme...no order...

So that's another aspect of me that's me...randomness. Tangents. Ooooh! LOOK AT THAT!!...wait. what?...lack of focus...but if i do this, then what about this?...what about?...what if?....i can't decide. don't make me decide...i'm afraid...

I think that's one of the reasons that I've not blogged consistently. There's too much going on in my head (ideas, worries, plans, avoidance) and I have a hard time focusing on one of the snowflakes 'cause they're all so interesting. Then when I do, I spend so much time thinking about it. Observing it. Wondering about. Worrying about it. Planning for it. Dissecting it. That, when it comes to talking about it, I'm just plain pooped to try and get it all out on paper, er, computer. And then there's the issue of me trying to get it out of my head in a way that communicates to anyone who bothers to read what it was that I went through internally. But then, what if it sounds silly? What if I missed a step? What if I put it in the wrong order? What if I use the wrong word? Then I read friends' posts and then I'm totally stuck. I get inspired and the ideas swirl around. A storm brews and new snowflakes appear and then I get distracted all over again.

Is it a green moment with traces of blue? Does this background really make my pink come out or obscure the purple I really wanted to focus on...but the pink is still so pretty. Then should all my pages work from the beginning of the red spectrum with slashes of gray throughout?

I wish my life would stick to the plan I have in my head. But then, when I go to look into scrapbooking stash to make it all work together, I realize a few things.

I don't really remember what I wanted to be when I grew up. I think I wanted to be everything.

I wanted to be a model cause they got to where pretty clothes and smile all the time. My paper wasn't bubblegum pink enough to pull that off. It was more of a distressed fuschia with black edging. Not good enough for the masses.

I wanted to be a nurse like my mother. But I realized that the deep blue I had worked well, but I didn't have the patience or innate character to develop this page. The paper could rip too easily and I wasn't up for that kind of pain.

I wanted to be a writer. But realized there were too many sticker options that I gave up trying to fit them all on the page 'cause it got cluttered. I suppose now, this is my way of at least having a sticker collection.

I wanted to be an architect. The concept of measuring it all ahead of time and making it all fit perfectly overwhelmed me. I like order, but because I know that I'll make mistakes I avoid anything that reaveals that too easily for others to see.

I wanted to be a lawyer. I saw others using greens, purples, yellows...you name it. But then I thought I didn't want to have to fight to make others like my choices. I couldn't face the rejection of forcing the issue only to find that I didn't really want that choice either.

I became a teacher and found that I was pretty good at putting my book together. When I started, I had fairly clear plan for the purpose of the book and how it would flow. Half way through, I was wondering why, even though it looked presentable, I didn't like it. I was starting to hate the book. Even though I loved the papers I was using, the embellishments and MOST of the pictures that went in, the book was getting on my nerves. It hit me that I spent WAY too long creating the pages, and overthinking them. I was in misery while putting them together instead of enjoying the process of the making the page AND enjoying them afterward. Instead of pointing out the cool things about what I'd created, I dwelled on all the mistakes I made. I realize now, how I might have better responded to the mistakes, but I still don't want to revisit that book for awhile. I do, however want to go back and revisit the papers I'd worked with...the embellishments I had a knack for using...the layouts I enjoyed. I just think someone else might have to show me where I can find better pictures. I'm fairly sure I need a new location but I'm not willing to find it right now.

Maybe it's because deep down, I don't know what I want. Deep down, I don't know what God wants for me. I know I'm not supposed to fret. Yeah, yeah. Rest in Him. Trust in Him. Let Him unfold my life's plan ;-)

Maybe, it's because that burgundy paper I thought would mesh perfectly with my pictures or at least, the pictures I planned to take, isn't really burgundy but more of a wine with red polkadots...NOT what I was looking for but it's what I got. And now, I'm just fighting between being okay with that or saving up to buy what I'd wanted in the first place.

Or maybe, I'll just use the mauve.

I must be dumb

Both of my last 2 posts were put up in December...why oh why are they posted for November 28th?

I don't understand.

booger.

Road Rage and Other Holiday Pleasantries

Nuevo Leon has the highest accident rate in all of Mexico with Monterrey, I think, holding the prize for first place of this great state.

I can see why. While trying to work our way out of the mall we watched as people resorted to fisticuffs trying to get a spot on the bottom level which consists of about 20 spots. HELLO!!!???! Um...there are several levels just above that contain LOTS of spots all within short walking distance of the entrances. We got to the bottom level and waited for about 10 minutes to exit. Mind you, this was all around the end of November. It's gotten worse since then.

Maybe it's because about 95% of the state's entire population of about 4 million lives in Monterrey.

Merry Christmas.

Education

I read somewhere that 63 percent of Nuevo Leon's (the state I'm currently living in) total budget is channeled into schools and colleges. So, if about 90% of the state's population is within the greater metropolis of Monterrey you can just imagine how many students there are here. Then, of course, there are the adults that are still actively involved in furthering their education in some way; if not officially, then informally.

People around here aren't stupid.

The majority of Mexican industry is here in Monterrey. The richest neighborhood in Latin America is located here.

I think there's a lesson for California in here somewhere. Not quite sure what it is. Any ideas?

Tecate Man

Oh my goodness. Need I say more???

This man belongs in Venice Beach, not Monterrey.

I don't see how he got here. Really, he's the first interesting [read: crazy] person I've seen since I've been here.



This, of course, is not counting the clowns and jugglers that stand at the streetlights of major intersections performing for money. Those people, along with folks I can only assume are distantly related cousins of the Amish (who sell their honey-flavored cookies) are just trying to make some money. I remembered the name of the group-- they're Mennonites.


The jugglers and clowns are mostly made up of old people...so are the people asking for money on other corners. I sort of lump them into the same category as the old folks that work as baggers (along with 10 year olds) at the supermarkets and places like WalMart. These people aren't employed by the stores and work solely off tips. So the key is to keep lots of coins in your wallet. (But trying to get any kind of change around here just earns you the stink eye.) A peso just doesn't cut it. That's equivalent to less than 10 cents. But anyone over a certain age just isn't guaranteed a job. Firing for no particular reason is normal...like if the boss doesn't want to pay your wages for the month or you're due for a promotion or pay increase that they don't want to part with or you're just old and they've decided you're past your due date.


So tipping these people whenever you can (which should be always) seems to be where my money's been leaking to.


But enough social commentary...back to Tecate Man.


Right before I took that picture, he'd just gotten off the phone (which is attached to his handlebars). Who he was on the phone with, doesn't seem to matter. The point of all this was that this dude WASN'T asking for money. He just felt like riding his bike around the Macroplaza on a Monday night dressed in Tecate cans. Venice Beach, Los Angeles, even San Fernando Valley normal...not Monterrey normal.

I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!

I'm swimming back!

...oh wait...that's not a real river...it dead ends at the Holiday Inn.

Salsa 101

Who would've thought that salsa and chile would've merited almost 15 minutes discussion at breakfast yesterday morning? Come to think of it, it's the topic of conversation anytime two or more of us in the house sit down to eat.

You have the basics:

There's salsa verde...a milder salsa which I've found to have a little more kick than what all the white folks back home are used to.

There's salsa rojo which is the hotter stuff.

And in most places around her there's salsa quacamole. It reminds me of the quacamole sauce they use at taco bell but better tasting. It's not thick but more of a liquified version of guacamole...like salsa verde with avocado flavor.

Then of course, there's just the standard pico de gallo. But this is what led to our discussion at breakfast this morning. I like my pico de gallo a little more on the chunky side and Sylvia likes all the parts cut up a little more on the bitty side. So, the big rush is to see who'll make the batch that will last for about a day or two...usually less. (Let's not even discuss how many tortillas we go through in the house during a week. Let's just say that we've gotten to the point of buying 4 packs when we shop for groceries and freezing 2-corn&flour...and we can hold out for another week.)

Then of course, there's the question of how many jalapenos to use and whether to keep the seeds or not. We have differing levels of picoso tolerance in this house. I tend to like things hot but probably not as hot as Pablo. Pastor J and Ali, I think, tend to like things on the milder side (still hot for the average white person) and then there's me, Oscar, and Sylvia in the middle...maybe more on the higher end of the spectrum.

I think the key is to sniffle but not have your eyes water. Sniffling's a good sign of picosoness...but if your eyes start to water or you cough uncontrollably, then you've crossed over into unsafe territory. Eating is no longer enjoyable, but has become a chore. You spend more time blowing your nose, clearing your throat and wiping your eyes than you do tasting your food. Not to mention the fact that you've probably seared off the majority of your tastebuds.

But, I can say that food doesn't taste as good without the sniffles.

In the spirit of giving

Here's a chance to help in some small way.

Click here to read more http://www.flowerdust.net/2008/11/10/the-50000-shoes-in-50-days-challenge/

Click here to donate $5 to provide 2 pairs of shoes http://www.50000shoes.com/

Let's all help make this happen.

He's all around

I was recently asked as part of a discussion to share “what name or attribute of God has been most meaningful to me lately and why”.

Wow. Heavy stuff for a weekly discussion and I’ve been mulling it over since last week. Actually, I think I can say I’ve been pondering this since my arrival to Monterrey and even before.

If you know anything about how quickly I decided to pack up and head out, you probably think you know what my answer is. But I can tell you that Jehovah Jireh (“God my provider”) isn’t the answer right now. I would like to say it was. Then I could’ve just given my answer and been done with it. Don’t get me wrong. This is an aspect of His character that I believe He’s gonna have to keep pounding in my head and heart for a long time. But, I can safely say that it’s starting to sink in and maybe He’s trying to show me who He is in different ways. You know, take advantage of my new environment. I mean, He knows I have my camera in my purse at all times while I’m here.

Jehovah Elohim…God. Creator. This is the aspect of God’s character that I keep seeing everywhere.

Great are the works of the LORD;
They are studied by all who delight in them.
Splendid and majestic is His work,
And His righteousness endures forever.

Psalm 111:2-3

He’s made all of creation. And I get to experience His creativity and beauty in His creation. In the complexity of a butterfly’s wings, I see His grandeur. He created the butterfly’s beauty. He created me.

Butterflies were everywhere around here for a couple of weeks.

This same creative God fills me with creativity…creative with words for laughter, with words for sharing, with words for guidance&teaching, with words for encouragement, and with words of love&mercy&grace. He created words. He created me.

He brings me His caress in the breeze. He created me with arms so that can I hold. I know he created me to be a hugger. I miss hugging my friends and family back home, but He’s giving me a more here. My spiritual family is large and extended and I’m getting to meet more of them. He created the wind. He created family. He created me.

He creates and sends the rain to wash all the muck and gunk that accumulates in this city from pollution and commerce. The air is refreshed and the land is green. He sent His Son so that we’d be cleansed by the washing of His blood. He sends the Holy Spirit to wash over us. He created the rain. He created me.



He created these ants…that were rather large and He designed them to work in a team. He DOES provide for ALL my needs but he does it in the context of my family (both natural and spiritual). I would be here if it weren’t the prayer and financial support of those who I call family. Some of us carry leaves. Some flowers. Some make sure to keep guard over them…I wouldn’t want to mess with that guy with the clippers in front. The macro setting on my camera rocks, by the way. He created these ants. He created me.

He created this ‘little’ guy. I don’t know exactly what his purpose is. I could find out on wiki for you…but one thing I do know is that God knows what it is. (And if you think I'd be crazy enough to pick one up, then you don't know me. I got Oscar to do it so I could take the picture.) He created grasshoppers. He created me.

God created these animals. He created me.


Eyes on either side of his face.

That's gotta be a good thing, right?

Stripes can be slimming...or was it the other way around?

Yes, you are seeing correctly. That is a midget bull.



He even created this ostrich that wanted to peck out my eyes.

For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse.

Romans 1:20

So what is it God’s teaching me? That He is my God. My creator….so in that, He is my provider, my protector, my friend, my Father…my everything.

Thank goodness, I can say

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.

Psalm 139:13

He gave me my heart, my thoughts, my emotions, my talents&giftings, and He gave me Himself….and I wasn't just hatched.





And you thought I would end it seriously??? Would that be me? Nope.

Food, food, and more food

I'm continually asked how I like the food in Monterrey. I don't know how to make it clear that I eat Mexican AT LEAST twice a week in LA.

So let's talk about eating here in Monterrey. I eat at home most of the time.

But after some event at night, you get a little hungry...thank goodness that all taquerias in Mexico are open at night. Most are ONLY open at night. At least, the cheap joints are.

You got your basic tacos with asada, arrachera, or trompo...or there are the quesadillas.

Pirata--quesadilla with flour tortilla with carne asada...heavier on the carne asada. This is awesome because in the states, you get a steak quesadilla and it's cheese and little bits of meat that you have to search to find.

Gringa--quesadilla with flour/corn with trompo

Campechana--a quesadilla with flour/corn with both carne asada and trompo.

Trompo--pork that we call al pastor back in LA...the kind on a spinning "top" (trompo) like gyros

Arrachera--still can't figure out the difference between this and carne asada. Supposedly it's a better cut of beef...but they're both flank steak. Marketing. Monterrey's got arrachera signs everywhere instead of carne asada.

Papa asada--they bake a giant potato (or two smaller ones together) in foil on the grill, then they cut open the potato and smash it within the skin in a foil 'bowl'...then they take a big spoonful or two (think the spoon you use for cooking) of mantequilla (butter...but really they use margarine) and then pour on the cheese. Velveeta. mmmm. Then they put in the meat...asada or trompo or both. Then you can get grilled mushrooms, grilled onions, and avocado slices. Real healthy stuff.


Notice that I haven't mentioned chicken. The Regios (natives of Monterrey) love their meat. I eat chicken at home.


I have yet to eat cabrito. That would be roasted goat kid...a specialty here. There's a chain restaurant called El Rey de Cabritos...the king of goats...The one near the center looks like it takes up a city block and always looks packed. Like I said, they like their meat. If I do go, I'll try to take pictures. Before and after.

Back to the taqueria--for $4o (that's less than $4 US) I got a pirata gigante last night after church. It was large and filled me up. Pile on the grilled onions, salsa, lime, and cilantro and you got one messy meal...meat falling out all over the place. I love this city, meat lover that I am.

Taco plates always come with 5 tacos. I'm still trying to figure that out...4 aren't enough and 6 too much? Maybe for your average person. You can always buy additional tacos...the average cost is about $8 (60 cents) each. But they're the bitty ones.

Then there's just the concept of late night eating. We got to this taqueria over by El Tec (the tecnological university of Monterrey) at 9:30 and there was hardly anyone there. An hour and a half later, after just sitting there and yapping, the place started to fill up. On a Sunday night. Not bad for folks who gotta get up for work...well, there were mostly students.

Then of course, there's all the same stuff you find back home...McDonald's (although not very many and they don't have iced coffee!! so why bother??! or maybe I'm just not looking), Burger King, Carl's Jr, Pizza Hut, Dominoes, KFC, and of course, EL POLLO LOCO.

El Pollo Loco here only serves chicken with select sides. No chicken tacos because, of course, you make your own with the corn tortillas that still fall apart here, too, by the way. There aren't chicken burritos or pollo bowls or chicken quesadillas on the menu. Just chicken and the salsa bar. But here's one thing I love about El Pollo Loco in Mexico. They keep fresh tortilla chips (totopos as they're called here) at the salsa bar. I LOVE chips and salsa. You fill up on totopos and salsa while waiting for your order.

I can also find other things that I would back home...like boba. :> Neener neener. Except they just call it tapioca here 'cause bobo/a means stupid.

Movies are cheaper here, but the real beauty of the movie theaters is that they make fresh crepes...filled with yummy goodness like Nutella. Halleluyer!

All this eating...it's no wonder that this guy is from Monterrey:


World's heaviest man marries in Mexico
http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5jKhzniC1FpelvLRBq1wNsFKhiyIAD942MA680

It's probably a good thing that I'm only here for 6 months...

I thought I'd show you one of the yummies...a pirata...notice that there's no cheese oozing out. That's because it's ALL MEAT. mmm

PDA

In college, a friend introduced me to idea of the PDA Police. Girl, if you're reading this, I am losing hope of their existence. Or maybe they're just working overtime in the States.

We walked around downtown Monterrey on Saturday. Take all the following factors into account and you can picture the amount of PDA that we were accosted with:

1. It's more accepted here. Couples smooching in the most random places out in the open. Take for example, that on our drive into downtown there was a couple in a grassy area near the highway. Hello! Cars. Exhaust. The world passing by.

2. It's been raining pretty steadily for the last few weekends. Prior to that, it had been pretty toasty. Monterrey has been known to get up into the 100s during the summer months. This was the first nice weekend in a while. Butterflies everywhere. Slight breeze. High 80s. Lovely day...for smooching.

3. The rules of engagement are still a little more strict overall. That is, people still "introduce" their significant others to their parents in a more formal manner. But on the flip side, I think it makes people get a little crazy. Kinda like those folks that let all their business hang out when they travel somewhere. Like, "She's mine and its alright to get smoochy smoochy up in this park with families two steps away."

Nope. I don't want to see other people smoochy smoochy. I looked away when my brother kissed his bride at the altar. Then again, that may have more to do with the fact that it was my brother. Blech.

I saw couples kissing at pay phones.

Waiting in line in front of McDonald's. (The lines at fast food joints may be another post entirely.)

At an open concert...with a thrasher metal band performing. Kissing with the roar of a long-haired angry man in the background is always romantic.

In the crowd, waiting for the final countown for the world's longest sausage. Yes, Monterrey, Mexico has now broken Japan's record. Nothing like the smell of Ponderosa sausage to bring out the love. I'm leaving that thought where it is. Right there. Thank you Guiness.

In front of one of the main fountains with statues of Poseidon and all his water nymphs in all their nakedness.

In front of pretty much every fountain.

In front of the Ministry building and that of the state Congress.

THEN....if all this wasn't bad enough...

SUNDAY MORNING...

I sat behind a couple in church. Homegirl was hugging, leaning, whispering to, massaging, and practically sitting in her husband's lap. That goes REAL well with the message: "Todos Somos Ministros" ("We Are All Ministers") I can tell you, the distraction in front of me was NOT ministering to me.

As a side note, we were visiting a neighboring church in the city. I hope that the most extreme display of PDA I see at ours will be church massage. I don't like it, but I can handle it without gagging.

I say ALL of this with one disclaimer. I don't mind displays of affection. I'm a touchy feely person with family and friends. At least, I try to be. But COME ON!!! Suck face in your own place.

I should make a t-shirt...translation anyone?

Those are mis pensamientos (my thoughts) for the day.

You put your right foot in. You put you're right foot out...

So I'm finally in Mexico. Got here Saturday night. That's the only reason I started this blog.

But, it almost didn't happen. Ali and I mistakenly ended up in the bus lane at the border crossing. Essentially, we bypassed the border checkpoint. You shoulda seen all the officials that came running up to the car as we pulled in behind the bus. They made us turn around and go back to McAllen. You can imagine our frustration in having to sit through that wait to re-enter the States. THEN, when we got through the entry to Mexico, we ended up going down the same bus route, once again, after the border crossing. Technically, we could've lied earlier and said we'd hit the checkpoint. There isn't any clear signage anywhere, telling you where to go and why.

You need a permit to drive your car beyond a certain distance into Mexico. They don't tell you that either. People just know. Ali knew this...but there weren't any signs telling you where we needed to get said permit. After spitting us out of the border crossing into Mexico, we just kept driving and driving...without the permit for the car or our tourist visas. Someone needs to put a suggestion box SOMEWHERE.

Eventually we worked our way back into the crossing zone and I had visions of us returning to the States. Again. Really, you just have to laugh at that point. I had already prepared myself mentally for the waits and delays. It's so typically latino to say something starts at 5 and everyone shows up at 6. So, we'd planned to be across the border by 1 or 1:30. Here it was, 3:30 and we're driving next to the bus lane, again, trying to get our permit and visas. We must've looked a sight. The only car within hundreds of miles with California plates driving in and out of Mexico; wrong lane in the wrong direction.

We eventually got what we needed. But only after going to show a guy our passports at window #1. He hands us forms to fill out and sends us over to window #2 where a guy photocopies the paperwork. That dude then sends us to section #3 with multiple windows where you pay for your papework. The lady there takes the money and staples everything together. We go BACK to window #1 where the first guy REMOVES the staple, separates the paperwork, stamps one of the sheets, restaples half of the paperwork, and hands it back. I LOVE MEXICO.

We were in. On our way. In the 5th lane of a 3 lane road.

Reynosa (the border town we entered) is in the state of Taumalipas. Nuevo Leon, the state that Monterrey is in wants to make sure the border guards did their job. Gotta love the cooperation in this nation. The guy at the state crossing looks at the car and asks us why we got so much stuff. I guess the fact that two women coming to stay for a few months isn't enough of a reason. We pull everything out and he opens up the suitcases. Lo and behold. Clothes. Shoes. Yup, you caught yourself some females.

He says we're good to go, so we throw everything back in the car and head out. As we're driving out Ali notices someone flagging us down...but isn't really sure. We keep driving down the highway. About 5 minutes later, we see lights flashing from behind. We'd forgotten one item when repacking the car. He chased us down to give it back.

We got to Monterrey without any other delays after that. I'm gonna LOVE living here. Honest.

Driving

Hmmmm...what to write.

So there's the pressure that this is my first post. Ever.

I'm currently in San Antonio staying in a guest house. Chi chi froo froo. Very nice.

Yeah, that's all I got. Are you sure you still want to keep reading? Let me think. Let me think.

Okay. We spent about 9 hours driving today from San Elizario TX, a small town outside greater El Paso to San Antonio.

Some things I've learned while driving through New Mexico and Texas in the last two days:

1. I like California's version of Mexican food best. TexMex is awright.
2. There's wireless at the rest stops in Texas.
3. Sonic rocks the BLTs and you don't have to drive to an hour and a half (Anaheim!) to get one.
4. Texas is pretty after some rain. It's actually green.
5. Buzzards. Eew.
6. Some people do live in the same house they were born in. How cool is that?

Alright, that's really all I got.