They call me the wanderer

I've mastered the art of flirting in Spanish. That is only possible because flirting takes place in the present tense. You don't talk about how cute that bejazzeled button up shirt looked last week, it's all about the now. The tricky part, I've found, is actually following up with those flirtations. How do you plan the course of a relationship, or fight about past flirting at the bar, if you don't understand the future or past tenses? You don't. Hmm. I might be liking these Spanish relationships.

On a different note, my teaching job asked me to commit for more hours. That's both exciting, and finalizing. With my family back in Colorado, my dog in Chicago, and my heart somewhere in outer space, I just don't know where to be. With out the nagging draw of a terminal relationship in Denver, I have to look at what my anchor is. What keeps me in a place, or what should be keeping me in a place?

People that have this figured out have easy answers when people ask, 'why do you live in ____?'. Well my family is here. My job is here. I love it here. And just what are you supposed to do when you have different locations for all of those items? If I only loved one place, it would be simple. But every place has it's pros and cons. Chicago was huge and I never felt like I could grasp what it was. But I find myself missing the night drive home where I would drive north east on unknown streets until finding my main cross streets. It was nice to get lost. Now I'm down the rabbit hole, and I don't know which way is home.

Skanky skunk

Someday I will post wonderfully beautiful pictures of my children. Until then...

All Hookers Eve

Happy halloween! Or rather, the day before, which will be the true halloween to all those who are concerned with partying. My friends and I have made the perfect mix of costume with sexiness, and we will proceed to go down town and judge everyone around us on either being too sexy or totally creative and amazing. Underpants and wings does not an angel make, my friend.

I have a serious beef with bought costumes. (and I'm not the only one) Sure, they look great, but there are a few major flaws. For one, there's no possible way for them to be unique, because they are made in bulk, and usually sold as such. If you're wearing an amazing bought costume that has 20 copies running around town, you might get a compliment, but it's sure to go something like, "Hey, great transformer costume, I saw that earlier on a hotter/skinnier/stronger person." Then you will feel like someone crushed your little halloween spirit. If you go as a collection of homemade items, no one can ever replicate it.

Also, there is no heart to these costumes. You made no sacrifice (besides the 100 freaking dollars) and therefore, the pride is minimized. If you were making your zombie princess costume, and stapled your thumb to your tiara, creating real blood to boot, you will rock that costume like it's in a thriller video.

I am going as a skunk. I made the costume, and will post pictures shortly. If there happens to be some other brilliant woman out there that decided a skanky skunk just HAD to be her frock tonight, then I will give her props. And then I will spray her with my homemade smelly spray.

Never Quit Quitting

He’s so much like smoking that it’s scary. I’ve quit him a million times, and yet, all it takes is one moment of stress, one memory of happiness, and I’m off the wagon. I call him, and then I’m stuck calling him. His easy jokes, his shared memory of the past 5 years, it's instantly addicting. I know, with every warning label reinforcing it, that he is bad for me. Warning: Will prioritize everything else in his life before you. Warning: You’re his first love and he will never fully let you go. Warning: This ex boyfriend will be the death of you. But I just read these warnings, fully understood by myself, and keep puffing away.

Maybe, this time, we will have grown up enough to know our limits. Maybe this time I can just call him once a week, as a reward for working two jobs. It will only be this one call to tell him something funny that reminded me of him. But it's never just one.

But tonight, after slowly weaning myself, I quit cold turkey. I told him, "look, you're no good for me. If we're not going to be in a relationship, then we're friends, and I don't need a friend like you." I'm proud of myself, but I can't help but wonder if this will be the end of my nasty habit, or if, in some time of stress or sadness, I'll end up caving- once again looking for my crutch.

Do you have egg cartons in your ears?

I'll start by saying that things with the surfer are done. I know, we're all shocked. When he asked me to move in, I started to think we were on different wavelengths. I actually studied the physics of sound and music in college (so I didn't have to take chemistry) and wavelengths are exactly what went wrong with this guy. In physics, waves of sound will keep bouncing around as long as they find good bouncing surfaces. (Very technical, I know) That's why in sound studios, the walls have bumpy surfaces, to trap the waves and stop them from traveling back around the room. There was no way the waves I was putting out were coming anywhere near this guy's comprehension. He must have had very bumpy ear drums.

I would say, "Let's take this slow", and he would whisper"Te quiero" (I love you).

I would say, "Maybe we should take the weekend off to think about things", and he would hear "I really want you to text me 3 times a day about how much you miss me".

Me- "It's not working out. I'm overwhelmed with how much you like me."

Him- "But I love you!".

Etcetera.

Finally, I said, "Maybe we can be friends, but that's all. Do You Understand? Say it back to me." It seemed to get through- kind of.

The crappy part of breaking things off early in a relationship is that the beginning is when people do most of their fantastical planning. I really hoped that we would surf every morning at 5 am, and I would get super ripped and become and amazing surfer chick, and suddenly become a morning person (who didn't need to "bake out" for 30 minutes before biting off the heads of anyone who spoke to her). We were supposed to go to this amazing private beach and according to him- we were supposed to live happily ever after. Besides that last part, I was really looking forward to how things might have been. I just wasn't ready for full speed ahead yet. Maybe it's being in Mexico, too close to The Heartbreaker. Maybe it's me knowing that my true person is still in formation and I'm weary of anyone who loves someone with out knowing who they even are. Whatever the reason, I'm officially single again.

Cheetos, a hot tub filled with oatmeal, and vanilla haagen dazs with chocolate syrup are who I'm currently seeing. They are nice guys, and I'm very happy with them. For now.

"The New One"

Ok, I'll admit it, I have an addiction. I'm addicted to falling in love. I just love falling in love. Being in a latin american country, there is no dearth of candidates. The men I have met are some of the most affectionate, handsome and loving men in the world. I am just coming from a place which gives me a handicap for interacting with such men. Women from the states are told that if a man brings you flowers, tells you every five minutes how beautiful you are and how much he adores you- then you probably have him on the hook (and to yourself). What a silly notion that is. Ahh, the tourists never had a chance. What amazes me, are the women here, who have been taught since puberty how to cipher through bullshit and find someone genuine. Well, that's a little harsh. The Latin men I have known, in my very limited experience, actually are in love when they say they are. No bullshit. They just allow themselves to be in love with multiple women, and for no set amount of time.

Back to my addiction- I have officially fallen in love 3 times in the last 2 months. There was the club manager, the artist and now the surfer. (Notice "accountant" or "auditor" are never on my lists. What does that say about me?) When the surfer walked into my office this morning bearing gifts, he was affectionately referred to as "the new one" by my coworkers. Everything always starts out perfect. After the heart break of 2009 however, I have trouble maturing these infatuations into meaningful relationships. I adore them... for a few weeks. Then my internal cynic tells me there's really no future with them, they like me to much for things to actually be real, and points out all the similarities between these guys, and the before mentioned heart breaker. So, I end it. You would think that I'm better at ending things since I've had so much practice. Not so much. It all comes off as a variation of "it's not you, it's me", which is not comforting to either party. Even though it is the honest to god truth, it is me, there is always strings left uncut due to the highly unsatisfactory reasons that I give them. How can I convince someone who has fallen in love (along with myself) that the object of their desire is actually a broken toy who doesn't want to be played with anymore. Furthermore, that I don't believe their strong and supposedly undying love is actually anything more than a figment of their imagination and libido. It doesn't usually go very well.

The solution to this cycle of love/breakups might be to go cold turkey, but something in me keeps telling me to continue looking for... not The One, because I don't think there is just one, but The One For My 20's. Are you out there, Mr. Self sufficient, intelligent, handsome man who is also able to fall for me according to an appropriate time table? I need to stop looking and start teaching English/rebuilding my aunt's company/working out. Even typing that made me laugh, there's no way that will happen- at least the working out part.

Nicaragua and Teaching Prospects

Returned from the Nicaragua trip. It was truly incredible, a place like I've never been before. Rural doesn't begin to describe the places that I stayed. Coming back to Mexico was a trip- I felt very spoiled to have my casita with air conditioning and electric outlets, not to mention hot water. I flew through the states on the way back, and it gave me the familiar ache of homesickness. Eventually, free wifi and pizza hut will lose their luster and I will stop yearning for the states. Meanwhile, here in Cabo, I just had an amazing interview at a private school. I don't know if I will get the job or not, (there seems to be conflict within the school as to whether the current teacher needs to be replaced or not) but it made me excited to think about future possibilities. Sometimes I feel like I'm a spectator in my life, waiting to see which career I end up having. Vamos a ver (we will see)!