Here is a list of things that, after 12 days in Puerto Escondido, have become difficult for me: 1) Reading Complicated Books (I've been slogging through Thief's Journal for 9 days). 2) Making Food (pura Maruchan). 3) Changing My Clothes (3 days and counting with the same outfit). 4) Writing Emails and Making Calls (haven't;... Continue Reading →


I Am The .1%

The problem with trying to write a blog while traveling alone and while remaining mostly sober and being faithful to a boyfriend in another city is that there's nothing to really write about. Yesterday I read a historical fiction novel and watched the sun set over the Mexican Pacific. The day before I read an... Continue Reading →

Puerto Escondido, or the Benefits of Blow

When I studied in Paris, it was through Queens College, and thus I was surrounded in my daily life with other New Yorkers equally, if not more, willing to violently experience all bled out onto the streets and into every cell of the city and its inhabitants. It was a Holy Experience, in that we... Continue Reading →

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