Beachified.

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;…

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…

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…

┬┐Que Dijiste?: Vacation Gripes (Part II of XII)

So here’s the scene: beachfront bar, sundown in Mexico, and more blondes than the Abercrombie LookBook streaming through the door in heat for their ice cold beers and free shots of mezcal (not worth it). The bartender comes up to Homeboy #13. “Hola, buenas noches. Que le puedo ofrecer?” “Um, yeah, brah, lemme get a…

Disgruntled in Paradise: Vacation Gripes (Part I of XII)

[The following is the first post in a yet undetermined number of posts regarding the behavior of my fellow vacationers. I’m breaking it up because 1) it’s better to break up the bad news, and 2) I’m on vacation, lazy, and mildly intoxicated.] Ahhhh, vacation. Nothing better. I’m here in Puerto Escondido, located on the…