I have an unhealthy obsession….with mariachis. I LOVE the mariachis. I am currently going through mariachi withdrawl. Do you know how I know it’s getting bad? I listen to this radio station in the car. Yes, I do. I am certainly the most Black, non-Spanish speaking Mexican you will ever meet. Tacos al pastor and tequila and the ocean and music and people and Carlos and Charlie’s and Disco Taco and cab rides and sawdust covered floors in clubs and oh, sorry, I got off track there.
Yes, I do indeed love Mexico. And you can call me crazy, but I would still go live there (with my Spanish speaking husband, of course) and I know that I would absolutely love it. Once I hit that lottery, I’m all over this plan.
But where? In Ixtapa or Zihuatanejo? Or in Cancun? Yeah, I hear ya. Living in a resort-like or resort-close-to town isn’t like living in Mexico. It is though. I said so. My blog. My rules.
Weighing in as my first taste of Mexico and holding some very fond memories, fighting out of the West Coast corner, we have the Ixtapa/Zihuatanejo combo. And fighting out of the East Coast corner, home of the merger of the century, iiiiiiiiiiiiiit’s Cancun! Standing at ringside, we have D.F., always standing by in case of a double knock out.
Not a decision to be taken lightly. I figure I have about 30 years to get there. Aim big, people!
Entonces, hasta manana. Pase un buen noche.