Let me just say, the original idea was to have a
Pride & Prejudice party. It soon transformed into Afternoon Tea, which morphed into a crazy hair and makeup theme party, which devolved into drinking champagne and eating treats in various states of cosmetic tomfoolery. The
Pride & Prejudice DVD from England wouldn't work in the DVD player from Canada, nor in the Kiwi or Norwegian DVD players, so instead we watched my American copy of
The Shop Around The Corner in the house of our dear Australian/Maltese/South African friends. Kirstie posted the rest of the evidence
here.
The theme was crazy hair and makeup, but given the opportunity to dress as a Native American, I will take it. Melika was the other wasicun winyan (white woman) to join my tribe. Afterwards, there was only one way to get our makeup off.
Other happenings! Our favorite Austrian has gone missing...Gloria left for home on Sunday. As have Jenny, Eugene, Eli, Kylie, Critter, and Oggy, leaving holes of various sizes and shapes in their absence. I have a new job, teaching English over the phone to business professionals in Spain. Sitting on the couch in my swimmers making Euros? Count me in. I have moved from the palapa to the bottom floor for the next couple months; there is an Italian muchacho who wants to live upstairs during the rainy season, he is clearly a madman because when storms come through it's nothing short of a hurricane up there. Kitchenware sails through the air. Papers and books are spirited away. You half-expect to see a bikini-clad Wicked Witch of the West fly by on her broomstick.
It's a nice change though, having walls. However, the lack of fresh air and absence of enormous amounts of natural light has sent me into a deep hibernation. After six months of waking up with the sun, my body refuses to arise, pretty much ever. In fact, my body has been taking three to four hour naps without even asking permission. I'm also not impressed with the wildlife on the bottom floor. In the past month, I have encountered exactly:
8924 Mosquitoes
3 Spiders
49 Flies
256 Moths
1 Cockroach
47 Geckos
1 Centipede
32 Shrimp*
and
4 Scorpions
*These were found in my Shrimp Flavored Cup 'O Noodles, but I didn't want to them to feel left out.
Why yes, that is a dead rat strapped to my motorcycle.
And yes! This is a toad smashed to smithereens.
It's a good thing I'm not tallying creatures found outside my house. And now, I feel a rant coming on. Brace yourself, it's been 42 days since my last post and I have lots of verbalizing to do.
I met my first centipede last week. Anything that is fiery red, had a hundred legs, and can still live after being cut in half is not welcome in my home. I thought I was clever by smashing it a few times with the Insight Book, Volume Death. I scampered off to the internet to Google centipede facts (because that's what all good hunters do after a kill), where I learned they are even more indestructible than scorpions. You can't kill them by smashing or cutting them up. You must also set them on fire. I went over to inspect the corpse of the centipede, but of course, it was gone. It was in my closet. I had no choice. The only thing scarier than an evil-looking, 100 legged creature is an evil-looking, 100 legged creature, engulfed in flames, walking (?) around your flat.
Speaking of flammable, indestructible house guests, there have been four too many scorpions for my liking in this house. In fact, the last scorpion that dropped in was here just an hour or so ago, climbing under Melika's chair. Hold on. Scary stories to follow.
PREFACE THEM WITH KITTENS!!!!!
Now, when swimming at Carrazilillo earlier in the day, Melika had said to me, "I don't want to freak you out...but there is something in the water." The calm panic in her voice meant I was to understand that sentence as "There is a shark, behind you, swim to safety; now." Naturally we swam like hell to shore and then stood there panting for a while and grappling with our own mortality. Was there really a shark? As far as I'm concerned, yes, there were sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their heads.
Anyway, as I spotted the scorpion under Melika's chair, I wanted to imitate her earlier cool-headedness. "Oh, um...maybe you want to put your feet up real quick." As she did, the scorpion began to climb her chair. "Oh..um...maybe you want to jump off that chair across the room or something." The calm panic in my voice meant she was to understand that sentence as "There is a scorpion, underneath you, leap to safety; now." As she leapt onto the table, I grabbed my trusty scorpion killing sandal and struck with deadly force.
Unfortunately, my deadly force wasn't backed by fatal accuracy, and I missed. It scurried. I struck again. We giggled triumphantly. As it crawled out from the sandal, we choked on our girlish laughter. My sandal thundered down again. Melika put pressure on it, just to be sure. As the thing literally reared its ugly head out from under the Havaiana, scorpion sympathies were at an all time low. We screamed. The last thing the poor thing saw was a makeshift flame thrower coming for it.
We may have got a bit carried away, but as my pappy always said, "When a fiend goes near a friend, fry the fiend with fire before it finds your fine friends."
I actually don't have a pappy. I mean, I have a father, but I call him Dad, or Daddy. He gives great advice, but rarely about scorpions. I was able to bask in his non-scorpion related advice and the inestimably splendid company of my family when they visited last month. It is still surreal. They were here! Here! In Mexico, in Puerto Escondido...eating tacos with me, swimming in the sea, bringing me unsolicited Thigh Masters! I am daily and eagerly checking the mailbox for pictures from their trip to arrive, so I may savor them, upload them, and craft an unworthy blog post in their honor.
In other news, I am tired of being wet. I have been damp for upwards of 92 hours. After you bathe, you see, you are wet. But the air is wet, so you stay wet. Then you start to get dry, then it rains. Then you are wet. Then the rain stops, and you go swimming, becoming entirely wet. Then you take a shower, and yes, you are wet again, and as you exit the shower, you find yourself, well, you know; bedewed, besprent, boggy, marshy, squashy, swampy, waterlogged, clammy, moist, sodden, soppy, drippy, humid, misty, muggy, steamy, rheumy, undried, utterly…watery. I am afraid of molding over. I dream only of basking like a lizard on a sun-drenched rock.
The reason I'm still typing and not sleeping is that I earlier poured a pot of boiling water all over my left hand. Be cursed, ye ol' Shrimp Flavored Cup 'O Noodles! My ice-wrapped hand is nicely healing as I engage in writing therapy. It really helps. A few rambling stories, a nice long winge, and I feel ready to deal with the next day of Mexican madness. Next month, I will have my third consecutive birthday in Mexico. 22..23...24....Is this not fascinating? It's been good for me. At least, I'm a lot closer to being the
Native American warrior princess Christian young lady I strive to be.
May the Great Spirit walk with you!
And more importantly, may you walk with him (
Micah 4:5).
