The summer chronicles saga

Ah, Salt Lake City. The charm of Lalaland! What is it about this place that makes me want to move here every time I visit? Perharps it is the heat...Nah, that can't be it, I live in Vegas. Maybe it is the sister missionaries following me all around Temple Square, asking for a referral...no, I don't think that's it either.

Maybe because it might just be the only city where drivers actually respect speed limits? But I like to speed, so that can't be it. Or maybe all the kids running and screaming everywhere I look? Maybe my inner mother (my very very very hidden inner mother) can somehow relate to this mayhem.

In the end, it's probably all my dear friends from Honduras that live here. I don't know, could be.

The curse of the really old cellphone

Remember when I wrote about my car being possessed? (Here, refresh your memory). He has since turned his life around, and has gladly taken me from Vegas to Denver, and from there to SLC.

It seems, however, that I am constantly surrounded by faulty electronics. The culprit this time: my very old cellphone, a Motorola VWXYZ (what the heck do I know what it is, but trust me, it's very old). It has decided to turn itself off whenever he feels like it, the darn thing. I have to tiptoe around it, I'm so scared it won't let me go around my daily routine.

I live in my own version of 'I, Robot', when gadgets aim to take possession of my life. S.O.S.!!

Tired of vacationing

I never thought I'd live to say it, but I'm tired of traveling already. Driving for 12 hours to get to Denver last week, although with a beautiful scenery all along, was exhausting. I'm finally getting a day's worth of rest while in this my beloved city. I guess I just miss my daily routine.

I'm too tired to write more. Let's all cheer for Honduras on Wednesday, when they play against Chile (I'm sure to round up some enemies by saying I don't think our team will make it past the first round. They're very good, but do not perform well under pressure. Oh, well, cross your fingers).

Oh, yeah, guys still remain a mistery to me. Or maybe I just keep having a bad luck streak.

More important than life itself

I came back from Austin last night. As I was in line to board my first plane, I panicked as I realized I did not have my cellphone with me. Then I remembered where I had left it...in Austin, of course. Considering my love for lists, here is my latest one:

Why not having a cellphone is the worst thing that can happen

1. All my numbers are stored in my phone. I don't know anybody's number but mine. How could I call someone in Austin to ask about my phone?
2. How the heck was I going to get a ride back home, if I didn't remember my friend's number?
3. How am I going to wake up in the morning, if I can't set up my alarm?
4. A calculator is no longer at the tip of my hands. Am I supposed to do simple arithmetic operations by myself now?
5. How are people supposed to contact me? And how can I call anyone, on that matter?

I can safely assume that if it wasn't because of facebook, I could just simply disappear from social interactions altogether. Why couldn't I just leave my passport? That would have been more convenient.

However, do not fear. My precious is coming back to me sometime this week. Thank goodness!

No magic in Disney

Last week my summer vacations kicked off with a trip to Orlando, to visit Disney. Why I bothered to go all the way to Florida when I could have driven to Cali, is still a mistery to me. I guess I missed the crazy hot humid weather that I have had the pleasure of not "enjoying" since I moved to Las Vegas last year.

Here are some highlights of this "lovely" week:

1. My jungle hair: I have abundant hair, which becomes even more so with humidity. I missed being Tarzan Jane, I guess.

2. Constantly changing stations: Scorching heat in the morning, followed by an epic storm at noon, followed by more heat and sweat in the afternoon, followed by even more rain at night.

3.Ah, the never ending charm of a mouse, a duck, a dog, and whatever Goofy is!

Dirty Dancing

Last night a friend dragged me to a dance for old people. The most attractive man there was the DJ, who didn't seem that old. I, of course, approached him and we exchanged a few words. He's not married, so cross your fingers; with my love of music, a DJ and me would be a match made in heaven. One of the few songs I recognized was The Hustle, and not much else. I wonder if Grandma would have enjoyed this dance a lot more than me. Great self-esteem booster, though. I feel soooo young now.

Such an activity could never be boring, even if I wasn't dancing. This people have a strange affinity for extremely large dancing circles (I'm talking about 30 or more people occupying half the dance floor), and watching old men trying to breakdance is priceless. I will go to one of these dances again, oh yeah, and next time I am bringing my video camera.

PS: On some very exciting news, my @ is finally working again! Don't ask me how.

Persistence

About a month ago, I quoted a message in my inbox from this kid who wanted to start a serious relationship. Refresh your mind by reading the said post again. I just got another message from him, in what can only be cited as an extraordinary example of persistence. Good for you, kid! One day you'll find a virtual girlfriend. Please read:

"Don't be shy to let me know if you're interested in exploring possibilities for a r/ship...(excerpt omitted for privacy's sake). If you're interested, (email address, phone number) are my contacts. I will be waiting."

I wonder if a girl has already succumbed to his charm.

Is there such a thing as a professional traveler?

I love to travel. I really do. Every year I go to a new country, except while living in the U.S., since there are many new places to visit here. Among my favorite cities so far are San Francisco, CA; Toronto, ON; San Jose, Costa Rica; and, of course, beautiful Denver! I love airports, and running through them to catch my next plane (the environmentalist within me feels bad I love flying so much, since airplanes leave a huge carbon footprint behind them). And, apparently, I have as much fun packing. I am moving to a new place this week (YAYYYY!!!), and I'm having the time of my life, packing my meager belongings. So much fun, I won't write any more, so I can get back to it.

The curse of the white Impala

I think Whitey hates me. He's (the darn car deserves to be called a "he") been making weird noises whenever I drive to one of my favorite friends' house, but I disregarded that. Yesterday morning, as I was running late to an appointment, all I heard was a click every time I turned the ignition key. Fighting the temptation to curse all vehicles, I went back inside my house and prayed for the darn thing to work. And voila! 15 minutes later, he finally and graciously let me drive him. When I had another friend look at him, there was nothing wrong. Later in the afternoon, several warning lights were flashing simultaneously on the dashboard, but I ignored them. No way that devilish car was going to keep me from my errands. So I decided to drive him to Church today. As I grabbed all my stuff, and headed for the door, I couldn't find the car key. I'm a very, very, very organized person, and I don't generally lose things, and never something as important as a car key. I looked for it for over 30 minutes, in the most unimaginable places. I still cannot find it. My car is possessed.  

The most stupid ticket story

While enduring my bus-taking torment during my first month in Vegas, I realized I had less than 2 minutes to make it to the bus stop before the bus, and waiting for the pedestrian light to go green was not going to cut it. So I looked both ways, saw no car in like half a mile, and ran for it. I made it perfectly fine, but I failed to notice the cop in a motorcycle hiding behind the bushes. As I ran for the bus stop, he caught up with me and told me he had seen me jaywalking. As my only concern at the moment was not to miss the bus, since I was not looking forward to waiting for 30 minutes for the next one (in some dubious company, I may add), I did not argue it. When he finally issued the ticket, I frantically took it, thanked him (my generous nature knows no limits), and ran for dear life to the stop. I had made it. However, I also made it into the record book as the only person in the US who's ever got a jaywalking ticket.