Mexico City is huge … but huge. It’s the biggest place I’ve ever lived in and I hate it. OK, I don’t hate it. Not all of it. Some parts I love, others I wish they would pave over and build parks on. For instance, I hate the area where I work. It’s a shit hole in the north and the commute up there steals an hour of my life every morning, and then robs me of another one on the way back. It’s a nightmare. But a part of Mexico City I love, is my neighborhood. It’s small, it has lots of trees, it’s quiet, and it lets me pretend that I live in a village. One of my favorite things to do there is to saunter around, snapping a picture here and there while side-stepping the dog turds, and talk about the future and our dreams with Andreas.
He snapped these pictures of me yesterday, while we were out on one of those walks. I decided to post them because, after all, my blog is my memory box and the time I’m living now is worth remembering. OMG, I’m so sentimental. It’s because be my birthday is standing behind the corner waiting to whack me over the head. I always turn into an emotional puddle around my birthday. Getting older just sucks.