The real triumph, though, was a box of chocolate by a brand called Merci. Reader…oh my dear and darling readers. These little bars of chocolate are extraordinary. Truly, they taste like they came out of a fine chocolate shop in the middle of a little village in Switzerland. I can’t believe I can pick them up at a budget grocery store in the middle of the state in the middle of the country. We live in truly blessed times. The box that I picked up had several flavors, but the one stuffed with dark chocolate mousse was the best. I cackled merrily as I sat in bed eating chocolates and watching the Kardashians. I was getting fatter, getting nothing done, and doing no good for my workload, but I was living the definition of my very best life.
I miss all those people and all these places. In fact, missing things might be the only unpleasant part of travel. Abroad, your existence is transitory; you are an ephemeral presence in another world. I think of these encounters daily, like the waitress at the Café Saint-Antoine that I adored, but they’re surely too busy living their lives to recall a young man who spent a month on their shores. Still, it’s wonderful to have that to remember and reflect on.
Monday: Why don’t you spend a day in complete and absolute silence? There are few things rarer than the blissful glory of utter quiet. All day, every day, we have […]
One life is hardly enough. I have no fear of death, but I really am irked that I only have a century here. And that is if I’m lucky. For a lot of people, more than I ever expected, a hundred years is plenty. People are tired and worn down and disinterested in life. I think there’s nothing more thrilling than being alive, seeing what’s around and learning about what has happened in the recent and distant past, so I will never understand this attitude. If I could live forever, I would pay whatever price. I’d make a deal with the Devil if that were a real thing.
I woke up gasping for air, wondering if the Grim Reaper had finally come. I didn’t really feel like dying, but I quickly rationalized that I’d led a life worth remembering, and I was fairly certain several people would host a funereal roast for me. So I accepted my mortal end. It was chic enough to die in Mexico City.
The point of travel is to learn about the world, not perpetuate your provincial and ethnocentric point of view around the world. You can do yourself no greater disservice than fail to attempt to appreciate the glorious world around us.
Anyway, I learned how to say ‘sack.’
Monday: Why don’t you subscribe to one of those food box things that are so popular right now? I finally signed up for Hello Fresh so that I can try […]
Reader, I am so excited to tell you about all the wonders I found in Mexico, the delicious foods I had, the tequilas I drank, the gorgeous kittens I met, the kindly strangers who welcomed me into their nation, the cobblestone streets, the crumbling buildings, the hot nights, the pyramids, the ruins, the atmosphere of being somewhere so vibrant and alive. I have very rarely loved a place more, and it feels odd to not be there. Mexico City felt completely like home. In fact…but I’m getting ahead of myself.
We live in such a hazy part of history. I am quite certain that people have always felt like they were living in dark times, and many have, but we have a particularly unpleasant road ahead of us. Nuclear warheads are at the ready, natural disasters are striking repeatedly, the president of our nation is the definition of a fool, the political right is making worrying advances in Europe, and personal rights and guarantees are being stripped away faster than I ever imagined possible. I’m so glad that Will & Grace will be back to distract us from the bleakness of reality. That’s what they did so well the first time around, they were comedic superheroes in times of incomprehensible war. We needed them, and we need them again.
I know that what I’m about to relate isn’t real, at least I don’t think it is, but I think that I myself am a plague on the nations I love most. For whatever bizarre reason, when I leave a place after a few weeks of being there and falling madly in love with the culture, a devastating earthquake seems to strike. I was in Turin, Italy last year when there was a minor earthquake that shook the buildings. It spilled some of my wine. Truly a traumatizing moment.