I think I'm starting to get a glimpse of it, of what life has in store, like my brother that day when I showed at the police station to pick him up, sitting there with an open cheekbone and a spit out or swallow struggle with a few loose teeth. I tried really hard to make it sound sweet when I hugged him and said "welcome to your twenties... everything gets very complicated, very fast." this was on the afternoon of his birthday, after a crash and a brawl and a police injunction propitiated by one of the countless assholes that populate this round blue earth.

well as someone put it last saturday at a pool party under the spinning monsoon, the main difference between being twenty and being thirty is... boredom. ssdd; same shit, different day. as I sat on a low wall, surrounded by fog, I took in the scene around me; there was talk about new mortgages; the right way to train the eight-month-old boxer such and such adopted with the girlfriend, cause you know, after umpteen years dating they've decided they can commit to at least that much; a roundtable on kundalini vs ayurveda on the right.

on my side, I mulled over my twelve month cigarette quit and realized that was boring, too. I'm so glad I've quit, I'm glad my dad saw me quit before his passing, quitting is good for you, the fucking peaches, personal growth, blah biddi blah,boring. I would have poked myself in the eye when I was twenty one, had I met myself. then gone on and read the rest of On The Road, and then, probably, go topple from the low wall to my death.
being as it were, I remained there and was bored and thought a lot, about would bes, has beens, ought to bes and should have beens...

top 5 new DVD on my gym's fancy new projection screen, or Scuse me While I Holler: "gay, NOT!!":
1. Great Divas of Pop (for a second I thought they had included an elton john video and almost applauded, but it turned out to actually be a video of Pink)
2. Madonna Confessions Tour
3. Beyoncé Live at Wembley
4. Gwen Stefani (yes, LIVE)
5. Metallica & San Francisco Symphonic Orchestra --for the hardcores

random notes and questions from La Isla Bonita

* upon sunblock: you do need to apply on your butt, otherwise you end up with a pretty tan and a baboon's ass.

* upon harry potter (SPOILER YOU'RE WARNED): all good, all great, but why did the good ones have to die, and the twats survive? fred gave excellent laughs, while ron managed, in seven books, to be about as useful (and funny) as a hole in the yeyunum.

* upon death: they say ashes to ashes, dust to dust, they never talk about the amazing quantity of ground bone, that sinks right to the bottom of the ocean.

* upon stephen king: oh come right out and say it: how many ghost writers do you have? what other explanation is there for one book being good, then next three utter shite?

* upon vodka: even if it's for free, there's a point you want no more. then you order beer.

* upon grass: there is a reason I smoke it all the time. because then I have no horrible dreams, which dutily haunt me since we got here on sunday and I'm weedless cause I'm too sissy to bring it on the plane.

* upon a/c: the only way I can get a cold in the caribbean, cause they insist in keeping arctic temperatures when indoors.

* upon love: it hurts everyone, all the time; not just you and me, not just now.

de vuelta del puerto de la vera cruz, cuatro días de pura regaladez y pocos actos de valor social. me encanta comprobar el candor que sigue exhalando este estado, con morenazos con panzas de berenjena que te preguntan sin el menor pundonor a dónde vas, de dónde vienes, si te gusta la dísco y bailar el bakalao. nunca, para comenzar, si deseas compañía o conversación mientras te encuentras en momentos de íntima comunión con las olas; una capitalina amargada no puede menos que voltear a verlos con cara de pocos amigos, o bien si te llegan a tocar el corazón, te giras para decir con tu mejor sonrisa, me no speak spanish, fuck off....

eso sin contar los encantos importados, como los autobuses provenientes de la adyacente entidad repletos de familias multiplex --pues al nivel de necesitar autobuses chárter-- armados con sillitas, baldes con palitas, neveras, termos, chelas, sángüiches, juguitos, balones, escuincles de todos tamaños, pero ni un solo traje de baño, ya sea para los bebés (en pañal), los niños (en chones), las matronas o los señores (camiseta y shorts) o los viejitos (esos sí a veces llevan traje, lo cual en última instancia es peor).

por último está el candor político, que manda a hacer un monumento a la laptop para interrumpir la perfecta fuga de perspectiva que nos proporcionaba la escollera. en protesta a este tipo de candor, al igual que el importado, me evité tomarle una foto, pero créanme está allí.

sin embargo, es bueno saber que no todo es encanto jarocho; hay algunos que resienten el calor, los portales, los turistas, los meseros; quien tamborilea de mal humor sobre tu silla y te avienta el menú; vaya quien te recuerda que Veracruz se disfruta por lo bello, no por lo social.....

el sábado me tocó convivio con los compañeritos, la casa D se levantó temprano, se lavó la carita, desayunó, después de una confusión sobre nuestro destino tuvimos breve discusión de modas, qué es lo más apropiado para ir a las pirámides/al tepozteco, que resulta que no es lo mismo o sea, para nada; algunos nos tuvimos que cambiar, y luego disparados salimos hacia tepoztlán, un pueblo ya tan lleno de hippies que el que te ayuda a estacionarte también te puede alinear los chakras y hacer masaje craneal con lo que a mí me pareció un espumador de claras.......

pues ahí vamos, todos viéndonos fabulosos mientras trotábamos cerro arriba, un grupo ecléctico y algo inverosímil que hacía que la gente de la enah no supiera en qué hablarnos, en alemán, en inglés, en hebreo o con mímica para los que llevábamos el grunge a todo lo que daba........ yo perdí el estilo bastante rápido a fuer de ser sincera, lo dejé en alguna curva por concentrarme en no romperme un tobillo entre las rocas o prolapsarme el pulmón que amenazaba escapárseme por el esternón,

sin embargo, mientras todos hacían profundas flexiones y saludos al sol desde la punta de la pirámide y yo me sacaba los calcetines para rascarme a gusto, con vista perfecta de un valle que blanqueaba de humedad, y mientras escuchaba a Muse a un volumen tan alto que los demás místicos viajeros se volteaban a ponerme cara de entendidos, o de fastidiados, no hubiera cambiado mi alma inmortal por todo el estilo del mundo; mi péndulo regresó a cero y me sentí profundamente en paz con el universo.

después rodamos cuesta abajo con cierta gracia, yo casi lo logré sin dejarlas caer aunque hubo un punto donde me resbalé y cuando alguien se apresuraba a atraparme, logré atrancar una atlética posición y ponerle al guey cara de qué..... yo así bajo, es más rápido... y me seguí como si nada y poniendo cara de rusa (o sea de inevitable).

terminamos el día comiendo en un sitio donde me sirvieron una ensalada en forma de sombrero que no estuvo nada mal. en general, opino que debería salir de la ciudad más seguido……….

again I'm sitting on the curb, wondering why hell, how fuck did I get here, what the deuce am I doing here, I finally found another internet coffee that everyone assured me was impossibly far away, but turned out to be at the end of a twelve minute walk, orange juice stop included, no kidding, townies are such fucking distance snobs...

(parenthesis: this town hates me; everytime the sun comes out from behind the clouds I remove my sweater; it immediatly clouds over and back on goes the garment; there just isn't any way I can keep my style.)

I managed some hours of work, which makes me harbor perverse thoughts. should I stay over? I've worked, so why not stay the night with him instead of going back home?

well, here I am lost in tollukannation again. it seems internet shops here aren't quite 'in' yet, and the only one in 15 miles around --or so natives will tell you-- won't open until the right alignement of dust, fog, and goats happen; so here I sit trying to look tough under a cold merciless sun, entirely attired in black, furiously squibbling on the sidewalk while listening to the ceaseless baaaaaah! beeeeh! of eight hundred sheep who look just as indignant as I am ....
on top of that, a guy just walked past me with a pair of vans just like mine. damn him!

today I've woken up semi-naked and alone, in a hotel room between the highland and the road in fucking tollukanland. this is something I definetely had never envisioned, not even in my wildest, most decadent spring fantasies; he left for work at four in the morning, without having slept a wink, we have spent yet another night just talking and frolicking and talking more nonsense and even making plans.

plans? oh yes. gods how do I keep getting in these messes?

I just hope I don't regret this too much later.


good times, for a change...

eat your heart out, angelina

is it raining in mexico city? I wouldn't know... cause I'm not there.



alex and I are in isla mujeres, quintana roo. I don't know why it's called that, I don't know how I got here.



we flew to cancun yesterday morning, and here I am having a coconut on top o' the morning sunday. isn't that unexpected, not to mention kind of cool?



there's also a seaturtle haven here. last year they hatched 50,410 li'l turtlettes and flung them into the ocean. I did my best to take pics, but only a couple came out all right.



I wish I had better photographer abilities, but look at this albino's eyes. he looked into my eyes a couple of times there, you know.



on the whole, I'm having what feels like the best weekend of my life. I've had them just as good really; this one feels differente because there's nothing to regret or feel guilty about, yet. of course. and it'll stay this way if I have any say about it.



what a touristy post, isn't it? well, such is life when one's in a good mood. zorry, even eeeeyore can't be gloomy all the time. cheers and happy weekend. and next week.



top tropical three I'm being kicked out of the internet cafe:
1. cannonball -- breeders
2. tender -- blur
3. son of a preacherman -- dusty springfield

smile like you mean it

so I'm sitting here, stoned, a little cold and with the foreskin of an egg plastered to my face.

I ponder how this all came to be.

I've been lonely as an angry middle finger all week, except for the felines. both roommates flew off to the film festival in morelia. I was supposed to go with them, but I have to say I was glad to have a pretext to be excused --work--, even if I missed meeting Tommy Lee Jones. ohwell, I guess I'll have to meet him next time I swing by sundance.

again I caught people giving me weird looks at the supermarket, and then I realized I was very seriously admonishing the lettuce I was about to put in my basket. I'm becoming That Weirdo Next Door, but at least they are benign to me and they let their children come and chase my bubbles.
they think I'm crazy because I buy bubbles in the park and I don't have children.

it's not that, it's that I turned seventy and now I've become like the neighborhood's granny. I even feel like making cookies and pastries now, and mind that I've never made a cookie in my life.

the eggskin is because I have a zit, and someone warmly recommended it. from all the aforementioned chocolates that I've been consuming, like a good nana. not to mention the endless pots of tea and all the kitty-loving.

I'm really quite happy. even if everyone else thinks I'm insane.



the teapot is from pauline lawson's Darling Pass the Darjeeling.

* * * * *

We broke the 3,000 visitor mark! I got the map from sitemeter itself. neat, huh? Now pretty please, with sugar on top and all that, scroll down and leave a fucking comment. good week to everyone.

to a whole new town with a whole new way

the first time, I was twelve and the sorcerer was a plump woman, but while on duty she was speaking for a male spirit, so you were supposed to call her hermanito, little brother. my mom sent me because she had the idea I was stirring up the animas with my sleepwalking, my nightmares and my watching at shadows. the little brother rubbed me from head to toe with an egg and then she cracked it in a glass of water. she felt over the glass with the tips of her fingers --she had her eyes closed for the whole encounter, and she spoke with the voice of a man--, mumbled something about insolent children and gave me a white candle with stars and other symbols, smeared all over with holy water and peppered with some ourfathers for good measure. I lit it at home, where the candle tipped over and bled wax all over my desk, leaving me a perfect empty husk of candle. I didn't feel especially enlightened after that.

the second time was when I was in college and this time they took me because I was seeing astral bugs, or what my doctor now lovingly terms 'sensorial spasms' brought on by my slightly irregular brain pulse. but at the time the sensorial farts were following me everywhere, brushing past people, whispering, startling the guests, cutting the milk, and just disturbing the peace in general. I guess my mom thought she'd better take her not so little regan to the brujos before the walls started bleeding or I started walking like a crab.

I actually visited this group quite a few times, because they tried to recruit me. there was no little brother with his eyes shut here, just a bunch of people, from a very old guy to a nine year old girl, and they did cleansings by pouring a ring of alcohol around the person and lighting it on fire. there was much chanting of blessings, incantations and holy maries. they cured illnesses by cutting away the pain with knives, and I must say that worked very well. I saw a bunch of weird stuff at that house; everything squirmed with gentle spirits. those guys had actually something real going on there, believe me or not. and now I can't really remember why I stopped going to their sessions, I guess I thought I had more pressing issues at hand.

and today I was once again taken to a hermanita by my progenitor; she went by herself a couple of months ago, because she was sure my crazy neighbour was bewitching her (hey, she had good reason; the neighbour (my brother and I call her madame mim) piles wood and stones around our house like the blair witch and she draws inverted crosses with rows of little beans pointing at my mother's car). my mom, after a wonderful streak of bad luck that included a dislocated kneecap, a freak crash in the highway, a stolen wallet --with the credit loss associated, an almost-dead man in the middle of nowhere and a mother with a broken hip, decided she'd had enough and that she needed divine intervention.

she went a couple of months ago and came back with word that it's unlikely that the neighbour is bewitching her, for she's only a really old lady with a lot of imagination and spare time and not a bit of malice in her, and that her bow of mysterious herbs had cleanly exploded during her cleansing, spraying the whole room with smoldering bits. little sister told my mother no one's bewitching her, but many people have been thinking ill of her and that negative energy travels until it sticks, but that her luck should be better from then on.

she thinks her hexes worked fantastically, so she took me with her today so I'd ask for luck for my new house. my mother thinks I'm being daft and that I need all the help I can possibly get. I agree with her on all accounts, so we linked arms and off we went to see the wizard. the sister this time was a pretty woman in her thirties, and she also kept her eyes shut our whole encounter. I sat across from her and told her that I'd just rented a house, that I needed work to keep up, that I'd appreciate any help in the luck and work areas, if she could pass the message. she said I'm going to be fine and my plans are going to work out fine, that the house is a good thing for me, and things are looking up; that she hears a lot of sadness in my voice, that I have to let go of what's over and face everything that's coming, because everything that's coming is good. he told me that The Male (that's what she said) is not going to come back, that our goals and paths are diverging.

her father then cleansed me, he gave me two lemons to hold in my hands as tightly as I could, he covered me with a white cotton sheet, fragrant with balsam water, and then brushed me with those boughs they use and passed the burner with the copal all over me. he gave me water to rinse me head and heart from all evil, gave me some oil to smear on my face and arms as a protective shield, and told me to have faith and be careful, because there are some people who envy me. then he smiled, making his face break into about a million kind wrinkles, and told me everything was going to be great.

they gave me three green candles to light for prosperity --which is strange, because I'd been contemplating doing a spell with green candles-- and a tall white candle for attracting the universal groove, and they're burning in my room as I type. I also think everything's going to be fine.