Notes from the States:
Starbucks? Um, yeah,...it has crack in it.
Dry, brown, land and cold, gray skies are exceptionally beautiful. And they feel like Christmas.
Nobody stares at El Chupacabra. Nobody. (Although an old lady in a bookstore, stopped him to tell him that he has "a great beard". (I think she was hitting on him, but he said that he's not down with the ladies that bear a strong resemblance to shrunken apple head dolls, so no worries. What a relief...)
When I get out of the car and am walking up to the entrance of Target, it makes me physically happy. Like, I get this full feeling in my chest, and I get a little pep in my step, and by the time I get to the door a smile has spread across my face.
"Patience" is a relative term.
There is no garbage here. None. No garbage on the sidewalk. No garbage in the parking lots, gutters, rivers, and, I'm pretty sure, no garbage in the garbage cans, which explains this; There is no garbage smell here.
According to my oldest child (who is, if I may I remind him, still a child) "All the girls here are way hotter!"
People will think you are that chick that got kidnapped and held in a back-yard tent city for practically her whole life if:
A) Your kid yells across a crowded bookstore "Mom! ALL these books are in ENGLISH!"
B) If you lean in to the girl taking your order for a Caramel Brule Latte at Starbucks and say something like "I am SO excited - I've only heard about this!"
C) Your blue-eyed blond kid speaks perfect Spanish to the guy bringing you chips in a Mexican restaurant.
D) You scoff loudly at the 90 cent price tag on a banana from Ecuador.
Trying to plan a "getaway" for 11 people ranging in age from 65 to 9 is impossible. It takes an act of God. For real. An act of GOD...
There is so much to choose from here, it's overwhelming really. I'm overwhelmed. On oh so many levels...