My Car is a Haven of the Old

So many things have transpired since last I wrote, but I will start in a non-chronological fashion, and begin with my latest triumph.

I have been feeling slightly distant, stuck, unable to move freely, and slightly on the outs. This by no means describes all of my feelings, but it is a reoccurring one. In any event, I talked to my mom on Skype (she loves it and so do I), I talked to Gloria on Skype (she loves it when she can), and I had expressed my duress of feeling like I should drive. I head out for a walk with the dogs, a walk that feels uninspiring, and so forth. I look at my car: my faithful steed, that logged 3000+mi in 12 days; my trusty Toyota, rusty and lovely. It sat there covered with branches, bird shit, and other droppings from the trees. I looked at it and it looked at me, and it whispered so clearly, "Drive Me!" (that's what she said, Andy). That is all I needed; I unlocked the door, and the dogs hopped in like it was home; it many respects, that car is a symbol and a token of home, and it feels damn good to have it.

The Runner was a little musty and dank from the roadtrip of a lifetime. I popped in a The Meters Greatest hits, and eased her into 1st. As I rounded the corner to the major street, I had no intention of heading out to Condesa. I thought I would just do an around the block, but with all the one ways, I had no idea how to make a loop, so I charged down Insurgentes. I continued on. I have walked this area quite a bit, and I have stared at the maps countless times. There was no GPS for this mission; how was I to know it was going to be such? I thought it was just a neighborhood, or rather colonia, joyride.

I followed Insurgentes to the Condesa. I found a parking spot, which is apparantly unheard of. I parked, we walked, they went off leash in the park. Chops had a little pis and vinegar in his situation, and he charged a few other dogs. I smiled and ran towards him. We walked back, and headed back with the beats of The Meters.

Now I would have been home in no time, but I missed my one clear opportunity to cross over to the left of the street. THERE ARE NO LEFT TURN LANES OR ARROWS! We took a scenic tour into Centro Historico and then down again, and then back up. Finally I made my way to a street that was going my way. I felt amazing upon exiting the car. TRIUMPH!!! I returned home to a text from Gloria which read, "Drive" and an email from my Aunt, reassuring me that I am where I should be--she included an anecdote that I won't recount here, but it was perfect.

Before the car episode, I setup some stuff on skype: I have purhased for one year a phone number, that should allow you to call me from your phone. You will be calling my skype account. However, I setup Skype to forward my calls to my Mexican cell phone. So hypothetically, you will call the below number, and if I am not at my computer, it will head out to my cell, and we shall talk for cheap rates...hypothetically. I will let ya know once I try it, or you can call me and find out.

MY NUMBER IS: 818 356 8330
(Not Currently forwarding to my cell, but you can still call the number, and it will go to my computer.)

So call me up and lets chat. My father also got me something called a magicjack, and when I get that hooked up, I will send you that number as well.

Before Skype ingenuity, I went shopping with my neighbors, Sarah and Hector, and their two kids, Oliver and Beatriz (Olie and Bella). They took me to Wal-Mart (I know, I know, but it was the easiest thing and the closest...lame excuse, but there it is). I purchased a microwave, a toaster oven, some bath towels, and some grub. STOKED!

After Wal-Mart, we went to a Japanese outdoor BBQ that sits in front of a Japanese market. You basically walk up to an amazing display of BBQ, point and they reheat it for ya. I will gladly take any of you there upon your arrival, but it is only on Saturday and Sunday, so time your arrivals carefully. I had quail eggs wrapped in bacon, chorizo, teriyaki chicken, veggies, and some meatballs. There are tons of other exodic things, such as squid, and other odd seafood.

Last night, I went out with three fellow new arrivals: Mauricio, the Chill Chilean PE teacher, Josh, the Illinois House Husband, and Tricia, The Lower School Socialite. We met at a tiny dive bar in Escandon and chopped it up over some rum and cokes. After that, Tricia's housemate, Jason (High School Art Teacher) was at a house party for his girlfriend. We rolled through. It was international: a filthy Frenchman was quite genial, there was a British Indian, a Midwest buclic bilingual, and a sea of Mexicans. We cracked cervezas and mingled. About an hour in, wafts of green smoke infiltrated the party. I personally had no need for smoke, but Mauricio sniffed it out. When he returned about 20mins later, he looked a little off. As we stood in a sea of languages, the kitchen started to turn on Mauricio. He turned to me, with a clam shell colored face and whispered, "I think I need to get out of here, man." Well I informed Trish the Dish of the situation and we strolled into the night air. We called Mauricio a cab. As we waited, he needed to pace the sidewalk...he was without a doubt in a bad place. I chuckled to myself, because it is a funny sight to see, but we have all been there on some level or another. We got him in the cab and he slipped into the night air.

I walked Tricia home and snagged a cab. It was nice to not be an island. It was nice to meander in conversation. Thoughts of synchronicity abound, and I felt pleased that I was here.

The other day, I bought a blank canvas after a two hour walk to the dog park. I am going to paint tomorrow...or the next day...or tonight...who knows.

Much love to all of you. I really can't thank you enough for being human beings in my life. I feel as if those who have reached out to me in communication (Marissa, Annie, Mom, Aunt Tee, Gloria, and so forth), you all have acted as the voice of the Universe, giving me the exact write information at the exact write time. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

So it goes.