We spent a month together and then an obscene amount of time on the phone and on the computer, talking on msn or Skype, sending mails and kisses through Facebook. Three months later I had left a prestigious position, an apartment I had spent the last two years decorating, my friends and a cat that had stuck with me through three boyfriends and a marriage. After two long flights and an even longer wait at an airport, I landed in Mexico City. I didn’t speak a word of Spanish (aside from tortilla and cerveza) and my man was nowhere to be seen. My cell phone wasn’t working, the lousy payphones only took phone cards, there were no carts in sight and my luggage was to massive and ill organized to drag it around the arrivals hall to look for a shop that sold phone cards. For the next hour I cursed my impulsiveness but eventually he came, carrying a cup of coffee big enough for both of us.
The next couple of weeks were marked by shyness, irritation, lust, miscommunications, beer and different expectations. And then it dawned on me that I had become a mail order bride. Only, I had flown in the wrong direction, away from the money, low crime rates and civil rights. I couldn’t help chuckling a bit to myself as I have been known to do things backwards, but at the same time I found my situation very interesting.
So this is a venue to vent and analyze my thoughts as things proceed. Also, I enjoy writing and this url was too good not to put it to use. If anyone finds their way here, comments and insight are welcome.
