Hola Superficialistas. Belated Merry Merry. Have been sunning myself in Mexico. (please say is Meh-He-Co) By “sunning” I mean eating and drinking myself into early diabetes. Honestly, we drifted from one meal into the next. #nocomplaints #noregrets
One day we took a small boat to a fishing village. We ate pie from a a woman who literally walks around with pies in a tupperware container ON HER HEAD. Quite possibly The. Best. Pie. Ever. We had the coconut pecan pie. I swear there were only a few ingredients. AMAZING. There are 2 abuelas who made these pies — I hear they are fierce competitors. Love! Check it out. Pie Lady in Yelapa.
Okay, I’m exhausted and too fat to even type. I shall leave you with a list of things I want to expound on at a later date:
Bowels. How can one get constipated in MEXICO?? And why did the bowels come back online at 40,000 feet? Why God? WHY?
Whales. (specifically, what it’s like to see whales, when one does not like nature and is a paranoid fearful freak, whilst in a tiny boat with only 4 people)
Margaritas. Like, why are real ones so amazing and the ones we get at home le suck?
Farmacias. Like, why can’t we get inexpensive meds at home without needing an RX?
Laundry. And does the Frug actually dip his clothing in sea water and roll it in sand prior to packing up to leave?
Trust. At home, I’d never jut hop into an old scary car, not wear a seatbelt, and take advice from a cabbie who doesn’t speak my language. On vacation? Bring it.