Hel-LOOOOOOOOOOOO Mexico

Adam has deserted me in Mexico and I'm going to kill him. He suggested last night that we walk over the border so I could see a new country and I agreed. Now I'm sitting in a little cantina, paying for a few minutes of Internet service and plotting my revenge on Adam, while he is likely laughing in our hotel somewhere. That bastard.

Okay, so I'm kidding. He didn't leave me in Mexico. We didn't even make it over the border. The "passports only" rule came into effect in January, so we expired-passports-folk weren't able to make it over. But we did make it right up to the Bush-implemented wall (that is still under construction). We scared a hare out of hiding, but no worries, Mr. President, no illegals were attempting to cross over your big ole wall.




So I saw Mexico. At least, from a distance. It looked crowded, overrun with homes and very little vegetation was apparent. It's called Tiujuana. Adam made me buy shoes (I had been wearing flipflops) in case we had to run while were there. I was like, "run from what?". He just gave me a look. I bought the shoes. Didn't have to use them, but who cares, I have new shoes now.



We ended up going into San Diego for dinner. I wanted Mexican since we are so far south now, so we traversed far and wide looking for an "authentic" Mexican restaurant. During our travels, we passed by the famous "Top Gun" bar (weeeeeeeeeeeeee!) but I was too embarassed to take a picture. Next we came upon an accident scene; it looked like an SUV had run into a motocyclist. The whole intersection was taped off, and Adam decided to ruin my appetite by pointing out the "body bag, right next to the downed motorcycle!". Knowing a dead person was just a few feet away from me made me want to hurl. Truly, as raunchy as I can be, there is just something about the loss of life that really really upsets me. He forgot about the scene within seconds of moving on; it stayed with me the rest of the night. When we finally made it down to 5th Avenue, we realized it was Party Central--like an upper class Key West. Girls in skimpy clothes and stilettos, guys checking them out, Red Bull advert girls dancing in front of traffic. We saw sirens and paramedics and walked by an older woman who had partied too hard and was puking all over the sidewalk. Now my appetite was really ruined.

But then we got to our restaurant, I ordered a Pina Colada, and had some of the best chips and salsa I've ever tasted, and all was well again.