Feeling fat?

Don't. It's all relative.



(Now THAT's fat)


Between 2000 and 3000 years old. Over 635,000 tonnes. That's like, 250 pounds a year, on average.

Now, let's say you're 60. And let's say you weigh 200 pounds. That's just over 3 pounds a year.

You're hardly on track for history.


(I had to back up to the fence to get the whole tree in the pic)

Then again, you're not 42 meters high, and probably don't have a circumference of 58 meters either. This tree is the world's largest biomass, located in a small town, El Tule, just outside of Oaxaca city.


(fatty's little brother, barely 1000 years old)

My apologies for the sideways pic. But it took 10 minutes to upload, and I'm not doing it again, do that head turning thing we all do when we look at sideways pics)

From Taxco, I came to where I am now, Oaxaca city, in Oaxaca state. Wa-ha-ka. It's beaaaautiful here. And there's a tonne to do, if you feel like being a good little tourist. Which, today, I did.

An Up and Down Birthday

As I´ve given the emotional reaction to being 28, I'll now tell you how I brought in this fine year...


Although I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Tepotzlan/Amatlan, it was time to go. I can see why there are so many white-haired gringos there: it would be easy to come for a week, and stay for a lifetime. But there is so much more of Mexico left to see!


So... onward ho!


I went to Taxco, a silver city. They claim that it's the first place in the world that created jewellery from silver, but history as we know, is written by the writers. What a deep insight. Anyway, the city is mainly a touristy town, with a beautiful center (Zocalo) where people still congregate at nights to just hang out and eat sweets. This is a common thing in Mexico, and a really great part of the culture.


Taxco is another Mexican mountain-side town. No wonder there are so many booty-licious people here... I would also have a licious booty if I had to live on the side of a mountain, climbing up and down all the days. Taxco's main tourist draw is still it's silver, with a million little shops selling everything imaginable of silver. The irony is that all the hills of Taxo have been mined to the hilt, and only about 5% of the silver used to make these trinkets comes from the area.

Anywhoo, my friend Ana came to visit me for my birthday. How sweet and kind is that. And an up and down day few days it was!

We rode a cable car up to fancy-pants resort for a spectacular birds-eye view of the city.


(the up)

And we went an hour outside of the town to explore some INCREDIBLE caves...



(the down).

At night, we went to the restaurant/bar in the hotel we were staying in to have a few drinks. I'm pretty sure it was a gay bar. As soon as Ana got up to use the washroom, a guy came at me like a laser-beam, drunkenly slurring spanish in my direction while full-on giving me the hump-me eyes. Not that I know these eyes, I read about them in a book once. He was sorely disappointed that my eyes did not reciprocate. But there was a rockin' band, and all people were just having a good time.

Yes, and then I was 28.

An age has passed since my last post!

It´s true.


I´m 28.


Oh... my... SWEET HEAVENLY TULIPS. I'm old.


Does anybody remember putting stuff in time capsules when they were still in gradeschool? I would, if my memory weren't failing. But this is part of being ancient I suppose.


If I _did_ remember, I'm sure that I would've written about when I was at some infathomably ancient age, like 28. And I probably would've written about how I was rich, and popular, and married with a beautiful wife, and have beautiful smiling children running around my yard telling me how much they love me, before driving them in my high-class vehicle to baseball practise (which naturally I coach) and dance class (which, naturally, my wife teaches -- you gotta remember, this was written in a time when it wasn't unPC to write that a man would be coaching baseball and a woman teaching dance and not vice versa), laughing all the way.


Oh shit. I'm 28. I'm single. I'm far from rich. My '91 Jetta is parked and rusting to death behind my parents barn. Whenever I finish this wanderlust fantasy ride I'm on, I'll return, not to my own palace, but most likely to my childhood room in my parents home, still decorated as if I were 8. And I'm writing this, pushing up my glasses, alone, in an internet cafe, at 9:30 at night.


Did I mention I'm unemployed?


And what GIVES with this receding hairline, uuuhhh.


I keep talking to really old guys (like, the over 30 crowd), and they all tell me not to worry, they "get more chicks" since losing their hair. From this, I have deduced the following: I am fairly certain that it's common to lie about how many "chicks you get" when you have no hair. This makes you feel better about having no hair. Maybe I should stop wearing sombreros. Or look into getting plugs. I hear they're getting fairly good results these days. Or maybe I can just transplant some of the hair that is inevitably going to start growing in my ears onto my forehead.


I mean, it's only a matter of time until I have hair in my ears.


...MORE hair in my ears.


Anybody know a cheap online site for viagara?


I was eating dinner tonight at the local market, and as is a very common sight here, there was a picture of Jesus hanging behind the grill. I must've seen this same picture a thousand times. But today, I noticed something different. Jesus had a receding hairline. It's hard to tell at first glance, but you can tell by the way his part falls down the middle and the off to the side. It's covering it up.


No better way to make yourself look younger than shaving your beard right? Out came the clippers. Hack hack, chop chop... *gasp* OH MY DEAR SWEET MANGO FACE, what has happened to you?! What happened to that beautiful smooth mango skin that you pay the premium dollar for at the market? Why have you forsaken me?! You look like those old mangos, that you can get a discount on because all of the people just pass you by. Ohhhh.



Okay, I'm laughing. This is all quite ridiculous.


The older the mango, the sweeter the taste. Up till a certain age anyway, like, 29.


I am 28, yes. I'm single, yes. I'm unemployed, true. I've got no kids, I think. Sure, I've got no house. Sure, I'm not rich. But man, am I happy. My life is rolling along like a sweet song, and I have to laugh whenever I think "oh MAN I'm getting old, maybe I should go home and get a career, and a house, and a, and a, and a..."


Bwaaaahahahaha. (That's the closest I can get to spelling a belly laugh.)


Maybe later.

For now, I'm having too much fun.