"You boys like ME-XI-CO!? Yeeeee-hawwww!"

(Kudos to those who get the reference.)

Procrastination, of course.  Instead of packing or finishing my Simmons application or preparing for my trip or worrying about my car, it's time to blog because...  I'm leaving for Mexico tomorrow!  Jamie and I are flying into Puerto Vallarta, quickly trading that city for Guadalajara, Guanajuato, and the coast.  It hasn't sunk in yet as I've been working on and worrying about applications for the last several weeks.  I have three to submit before I leave.  All but one are done.  Also: my car was stolen several days ago so I'm dealing with that situation too (not dealing like mourning but dealing like police and insurance, etc.).

Anyway, poorly written.  My mental powers--what's left after this long week of 5:30am shifts and grad school apps--are still reserved for this last one.  All day I've been fretting about getting it all done.  It's almost there.  It's closer than I think.  Tomorrow at this time, I will be sitting, exhausted, in Puerto Vallarta somewhere.  I can't wait: the food, the smells, la lengua (figuratively, or literally as you can never be sure what you're eating). 

The beach.  Twelve days away from Seattle and my job and the winter and school applications.  This will only whet my wanderlust, I fear.  I promise I'll come home.


....update, one hour later.
I submitted the application.  Pre-packing ritual: clothing, toiletries are spread around me on the floor, the bed.  The dryer hums, with intermittent zipper.  Harvey Danger's Private Helicopter.  How to pack for twelve days?  I'm taking nearly as much stuff as when I moved to Spain, or traveled in Central America.

This trip may offer salvation, for the time being.  I hadn't succumbed to wanderlust for months.  I kept it at bay, fending it off with promises of exciting future plans (like graduate school).  But, lately.  Everywhere I turn.  I went to Ocho, the Spanish tapas bar in Ballard this week.  Shit, I want to go back to Spain.  Jamon serrano?  No!  I want jamon iberico!  The tortilla espanola was, to say the least, disappointing.  Dry and flavorless, when compared to a true tortilla.

Within the last week, I have had several conversations with different customers at work about travel.  The first was with a couple who had done the camino.  That, with the tapas bar, made me yearn (yearn!) to go back.  To contemplate which camino to do next.  The camino portugues?  Tackle part in France?  As far as Istanbul?

The next conversation was with someone who had recently returned from Russia.  Russia--I want to go.  It's been the back of my mind for awhile, but then he gave me a ruble that he found in his bag and a pass from the Moscow subway system. It's my next big trip, this summer.

Then, a customer had a pile of travel books.  She was planning an eight week trip to Egypt, Israel, Turkey, and Eastern Europe.  We talked about Bosnia.  Please, let me go.  Just let me go.