Awkward Realizations

1. My country allows civilians to own assault weapons (who needs army-level guns to hunt?) but won't let gay couples get married in most cities.

2. I'm not a teenager anymore. 20 shouldn't feel old.

3. I get embarrassed for people when they post super emotional facebook statuses.

4. In twenty years, I will probably be someone's mom.

5. My country's best news sources are comedic.

6. Saying "I had surgery on my ass" will always sound strange.

7. I will always have to wear sunscreen on the beach.

Mexico

I'm studying abroad in Mexico (the non 'death to American citizens' areas) and this is what I have learned so far:


- Dividing lines of lanes on the road are like speed limits: suggestions that are primarily ignored.

- The stereotype of a million 7/11 stores is somewhat true

- Your American friends and family have a sneaking suspicion that you might get kidnapped by a drug lord, although that's really unlikely.

- They believe in air conditioning (sorry Costa Rica, Mexico is winning this one).

- Little kids who sell flowers in the street are so damn cute that they become VERY convincing. Good call sending wide-eyed kids to sell souvenirs, good call.

- Bikinis are cheap (personal yay!)

- Mayan cultural relics are awesome. (No latent sarcasm in this one. The Mayan aspects of culture are seriously cool).

Walmart Dating Theory Re- Re-visited: Returns

Sometimes in fine shopping establishments and in dating, you discover that for some reason, you and the product don't work. Maybe the shampoo makes you break out in hives, maybe your girlfriend dumped you in order to favor her goat, maybe you realized that the plastic toy you bought your toddler was made by another toddler in China. The point is: you return what you got. And move on in life. Possibly to another store, like Target.

Old Purse --> Mexico

I have had an old purse for years. I threw it around school, my house, another school, my car, and thousands of other places. I have other purses, but none of them are quite the same. My old purse is black, broken in, well-travelled, and an extension of my arm. I love it and I hate it.

My old purse and I are headed to Mexico in a few days. Should be a good time.