Well, I mostly made it. Thought I’d end the way I started, with another travel day. “Start as you mean to go on,” right? The undies were cute, but the day was a misery. I was glad to be home when it was done, but what a long, trying day it was.
The last couple days after my last post were a mixed bag. My mom went back in the hospital, work was incredibly busy, and I was living more like a local, just living my life and trying to get by, than like an adventurer exploring my new world on my own.
Oddly enough, that settled me into this space in a way that felt…more authentic? Getting up, doing my morning routine, walking to a little coffee shop I’d found, then working hard all day, dealing with the complications of my aging parents and a sister stretched to her limits by having to deal with everything on her own, I experienced what it might be like to be an expat here. What the rhythm of a life apart here might be like. I opened my door and let the humidity enfold me like a warm, wet blanket, listened to the sounds of traffic and the cacophony of birds, to the men on their food-and-drink bikes calling out their wares; had a beer in the tiny, lovely backyard after work, took the trash out, dealt with tropical bugs and enjoyed a refreshing, cooling rain late one afternoon.
Last night, my last night on my own in Tulum, I wandered back up to the restaurant and shopping district I had found the last time I ventured out, and had dinner in a delightful little outdoor restaurant with trees in the middle of it and fairy lights and cool trip-hoppy music, and sent back Marco Polos to my people back home, because I wanted to share the magic I was feeling with them. I listened to the cadence of a language I have vowed to learn before I come back (everywhere I went I tried out new phrases, asked “como se dice…?” and tried to stretch my very limited vocabulary.) I felt at once a pang of longing to be home where the world was familiar and known, and the magic of being somewhere wholly new and enchanting – and that was, even better, becoming quickly known and familiar as well.
I had an interesting exchange with Sir, trying to explain the mystery and delight I felt in the dichotomy of being both wholly in the moment here and yet still able to recognize the gentle ache of longing for home, my dog, Adam – even him, though we have not known each other for long. Apparently he is not able to experience more than one thing in that way, and I felt a little sad for him. My world is such a wonderful kaleidoscope of experiences, thoughts and emotions all tumbled together, while at the same time each being experienced in its own, exquisite perfection (even the sadnesses, the pain, the sorrow) that to not experience it that way feels like a constriction. My goal, my desire, is to open my heart to all of it, to not deny one iota of my existence and to experience it all in its immediate, messy, tangled glory. Maybe, on a baser level, that is why I can experience pleasure and pain at the same time, orgasm through the lash of the whip, laugh through my tears.
Today is a beach day with the Canadian and K, though our snorkeling trip got canceled due to rough water. I’m looking forward to lazing about under the shade of a palapa, talking, and watching the clouds race across a painfully blue sky while the turquoise sea crashes against the rocks. Tonight I head back to the Canadian’s place in Playa del Carmen with him and K, and then Saturday I am headed to the airport and back home. I hear it’s cold and snowy there, and I am relishing the feel of an icy wind again, of a brisk hike bundled head to toe, of seeing stark, naked trees outlined against a gray sky. And to finding my home routine again, before I set off for another adventure, this time to the Pacific Northwest with my daughter in March.
And since I am behind so far on February Photofest, I’ll share a slideshow now of these lovely days I’ve had here in Mexico, from the mundane to the naughty to the magical. I hope you enjoy seeing them as much as I did making them!
I’ve fallen down on the Photofest by a few days, but I’m going to cut myself some slack – the Canadian and I spent a couple days at a resort, playing like tourists, and I think I only got my laptop out once. Then we had a travel-and-get-acquainted-with-my-new-place day here in Tulum, and then he left to go back to Playa del Carmen and I spent the day at the beach and indulging myself with a massage by the ocean and some alone-time.
Now I’m set up here in the sweetest little AirBnB, where I’ll be on my own for the next three days, before he comes back, bringing Kitty with him. I haven’t seen her in two years, since Cuba, when I first started seeing him, though we have kept in close touch on Messenger, FaceTime and Marco Polo all this time. And then? It’s back to the airport and home again.
But today…polka dots.
Of all the panties we’ve been taking pictures of this trip, these are the Canadian’s favorite, or so he has said.
I almost forgot to post my picture for the day yesterday, so the Canadian “helped” me find the “motivation” I needed to get it done.
I know, I said this February was all about the panties, but I just had to share this image today instead. This is me, after running this AM. I was slick with sweat and feeling AMAZING! Although it was only about 2 miles, I felt positively giddy with pleasure and self-congratulations (okay, probably not warranted, but we take what we can get.) And strong. And unconquerable. Running – even the short runs I do – makes me feel that way.
Running fixes all the things. Not getting enough play? Get out and run. Feeling stressed about my parents? Take a run. Experiencing a break-up? Get out and RUN (preferably to some music that takes me out of my head.) Want to feel sexy and powerful and strong and alive? Run, baby. Run.
I started back up again while on this trip. That was the promise I made to myself – I could come down here for a few weeks if I started running again. I almost reneged before I even got started by forgetting my Apple watch back home. Oh no how could I run without it? My watch is like a little Dom attached to my wrist telling me to do all the good things I know I should do, but don’t. I love it (along with the running app I use, that bosses me the whole while I am running.) I know, it’s a shock that that works for me (giggling a little maniacally here.) But in the end, I didn’t allow it to stop me. So…I had to share my triumph here. Hope you don’t mind that I’m not wearing panties!
But if that’s all true, why oh why do I need to bribe myself to get myself going? And why can’t I can’t keep up the habit for longer than 3 months? That’s the next question I have to answer.
I played with filters today!
The game last night was to try to make my stripes as bright pink as this lovely little slip of a thong, which we came close to doing. And the filter just saturates the colors so much, I love it. Also, check out that round ass!
This was the result of our second night of cribbage. We played for whacks. The first night, I made the rule that whatever the spread in points was – no matter who won – would be the number of whacks I would get, using my second favorite implement, a tool I call the jambock. It’s a dense, solid leather toy that really packs a wallop.
I only got four whacks with the jambock, though, which the Canadian was disappointed by, so this night, he made the rules for our cribbage game. This time, it was the spread – no matter who won – between the winning peg and the furthest back peg, which turned out to be a lot more than four. But I got to choose the implement – my favorite, the 3-whip!
The difference was 48 – and trust me, we’re both of us too competitive to throw the game one way or the other.
I also got to pick where he used the whip, which was my ass, thighs and a little bit of my belly. He got in a few bonus whacks on my puss. NOT my favorite place for sure! But I was proud of myself for taking it with only a few high-pitched squeals. And he made it worth my while. ;-)
Just another day working in paradise…