No more balmy 80 degrees for a while

I'm back from Cancun! I didn't even tell you I was going! Mark was going to cover a basketball tourney there, and I went along for fun. We went to an all-inclusive resort called Moon Palace. This means that once we got there, we didn't have to pay for anything. Not food, not liquor, nothing. Not even tips, though we tipped anyway because the service is just outstanding. You'll never, ever see service like this in the U.S., even by waiters who expect tips. Even at the buffets, they carry your plates back to the table for you. And your drink will never be empty. Hungry but too lazy to leave your room? Room service is free, too.

We found most of the restaurants to be pretty mediocre -- most are buffets. But they have a few that require you to dress a little nicer, and those were incredibly good. You order whatever you want, plus they bring you extra stuff, and then you just walk out without paying! It's a trip, and hard to get used to. It rather reminded me of "Defending Your Life" where Meryl Streep and Albert Brooks are in Judgment City post-death and are eating at a similar restaurant. You eat whatever you want and never have to pay. The waiter says in an Italian accent, "You wanta nine pie? I bringa you NINE PIE!" and they say that they don't want nine pies, but he insists. Then he walks around the corner and instantly brings back nine packaged pies. It was like that -- the food you order materializes instantly, and it's free, and they keep giving you stuff you didn't even want. Plus, even booze is free! FREE!

On to the pictures. I once again successfully looked awful in every photo. Actually, I spent most of the trip sweaty and unshowered, wandering the beach or pool areas until it was time to get ready for dinner.

Our room, it had a hot tub/bath tub in the middle:


Notice the well-placed pillar. It's positioned just right so that when you wake up in the middle of the night and need the bathroom, you smack right into it. I swear there were faint blood stains on there. Mark had to set up pillows at the base in the hopes that would help stop him.




The grounds:






Doesn't this remind you of The Love Toilet on "Saturday Night Live"? The funny thing is that as I googled that to find a photo, I found a photo of this exact seat saying "Doesn't this remind you of the ..." (Also, I'm not sure why when I google "The Love Toilet" Saturday Night Live "Victoria Jackson" I get lots of photos of farm animals and equipment.)


Our back door was one of these, right on the beach:


Mark was working, after all. So I spent a lot of time watching him type. Thank God the guacamole was plentiful!


He was there to cover a basketball tournament, the Cancun Challenge, which was in a rather odd location, and had few spectators:


This sign at the hotel warned about crocodiles. I have a hard time believing there are really crocodiles right there in the middle of the hotel grounds, and this is what Mark thinks of the sign:


But an employee giving me a ride (it's a big place) said it's true, and then tauntingly asked, "What, are you scaaaarred of crocodiles?" Uh, hell yeah I'm scared of crocodiles. Freak.

You know how I was saying I got a ride because the place is big? Well, it's huge. And we walked over to this bar outside along the road where the golf course/spa is supposed to be. Well, we didn't realize that's the waiting area for the shuttles to the building that was at least a mile away. We just started walking, and wondered what we got ourselves into. I saw a sign with pictures and names of animals in the area. Then I slowly looked over and saw a whole herd of coatimundis coming our way! As an animal lover, this may have been my favorite part of the trip. They were not shy, and came meandering over to see if we had any treats. Mark only had a beverage, so he offered some ice. This did not please the coatimundis.




One night, we had dinner with a couple Mark knows who just happened to be out there. They were there with some friends.




Finally, these little birds were always looking for a snack. There were also birds that looked to me like crows but had a very funny sound like a guinea pig that's freaking out. They woke us up a lot.

New Mexico: Better than Old Mexico

Oh, all right. I'm just kidding. I just got back from Cancun, and it was fabulous. But I'm a bit pissed about one thing.

You see, Mexico has its problems. Such as the narcos running about chopping off people's heads. And, what, hundreds of women murdered in Juarez? Not to mention that everybody's poor (looks like we're joining the club over here) and that Americans are often abducted and are urged not to travel in many parts of the country. So, I guess I just don't get it when Mexico considers some nice lady and her knitting a threat to international security. You see, they confiscated my knitting needles. And not just any knitting needles, but my BRAND-NEW ADDI TURBOS!!!!!!!!! Addis are basically the Mercedes Benz of knitting needles, and I had just paid $17 for them right before the trip. Oh, and they didn't just confiscate them, they took scissors and cut the needles off. In front of me. Essentially ripping my still-beating heart from my chest.

Now, before you non-knitters go off and start agreeing with them, let me say a few things.
1. The TSA has approved knitting needles for taking on planes. I accept that the TSA is part of America and not Mexico. But I always take my knitting on board to keep me occupied, and it's never been an issue before. I was allowed to take it on the plane on the way to Mexico.

2. Please view the photo below and tell me how this apparatus is any more dangerous than a number of other things you can take on a plane. Say, a sharpened pencil. Or the permitted "Scissors - metal with pointed tips and blades shorter than four inches" or "Screwdrivers (seven inches or less in length)." If you're worried I may take the cord and choke a pilot to death, I could probably do that better with the tie from my jacket, which was also with me.



Consider that if I wrapped my hand around my kntting needle in the manner you would have to in order to stab someone, I would have less than 2 inches left to dig into the person. I could do better damage with a full-length sharpened pencil, which I'm sure even Mexico allows onto planes.

Whether I'm in the wrong or the right, I was still filled with a rage I have never before known when that cabron yanked it from my hands and snip-snipped the cords -- and in the process let half my stitches fall off the cord.