SwampLog 3.0

Hola!

Posting from Cancun. Still alive. Only had my first tequila last night, which I'm truly embarrassed about. Booze cruise tonight.

Climbed Chichen Itza yesterday. WAIT until you see the photos from atop the pyramid.

SO many photos to share, and I'll do all that Friday.

Mexican keyboards suck. Too much work to figure out how the special characters work, like the bloody @ symbol (Alt 6, 4 -- damned annoying!).

See you stateside in a bit.

Cancun Travelogue, Part Four

Okay, well it's at least something.

I was told (I think) that the B concourse is exactly what I thought it was -- a giant holding area. One hour prior to departure, the sala is announced, and we all vamos to it.

An interesting concept. I'm hoping I translated it correctly, or the next ahoras will be damned difficult.

Just saw an amazing looking woman with two birth-deformed arms. An odd juxtaposition. She had the perfect Gen-X scowl on her face, and a band tattoo on one bicep.

Angelina Jolie is on the cover of a half-dozen Spanish-language magazines that I've seen so far. The cover of 'cinemania' has an amazing black-and-white shot of her, a profile shot. I might buy it just for the photos. I feel so illiterate.

Cancun Travelogue, Part Three

Now, I just know they're fucking with the gringo.

The flight to Mexico City, though a little bumpy at the outset, was only 35 minutes late in arriving. Still plenty of time to mosey on down to my gate, plop down in a chair, and people-watch.

Except I can't figure out where the damned thing is.

It's Sala B (Gate B). All of the other gates are numbered, and single plane berths. Sala B is a long concourse with a ton of duty-free stands, shops and restaurants, with NO GATE OR TERMINAL IN SIGHT.

When it gets closer to the flight, I'll get to the bottom of this, but I HATE not knowing where things are. This is a definite lay of the land issue. Bollocks.

No wireless network in Mexico City's airport. Dammit.

Cancun Travelogue, Part Two

One minutes after the plane was due to depart to Mexico City, the people waiting to board said plane were just told it will be 30 minutes before we can start boarding the plane. The crew hasn't filled out their immigration paperwork. Hell, I filled out mine at the bloody airport bar. This doesn't bode well.

I'm the only one in the terminal who takes this news with any modicum of surprise. This, also, doesn't bode well.

Just tried to check my home e-mail with one of the AT&T Public Phone 2000 terminals. My Inbox was blocked because of content. Fucking spam filters!

Makes me wonder, though, how people visiting DaM.com from work are affecting their IT futures. We aren't a G-rated site, and we do like to say "Fuck" from time to time. (Some times, more than most.)

I'm charging my iPod for the plane ride. It will be a full flight.

I had brought along a DVD to watch on the plane -- High Fidelity, for those wondering -- but I don't think I'll fire up the player until I hit Mexico City. I am now slightly nervous about making it there intact.

The girl sitting next to me is absolutely gorgeous, and I'm certain she's 14 years old. See what latina soap stars and Shakira are doing to the youth of Mexico? Scandalous!

I will never get used to platinum blonde Mexican women.

They're making another announcement, all in Spanish. Dammit. This is where the wasted time in Spanish class, where I was too preoccupied with impressing Jennifer Hagenbuch to pay attention, would have paid off.

Okay, English now. The crew is now getting through security and will be on the plane in five minutes. See you "South of the Border, down Mexico way."

Cancun Travelogue, Part One

I have no idea what I'm doing.

I've done a lot of travel in the continental US over the last 15 years, but no international travel. So, filling out the customs form and the tourista visa application is a little daunting, even though it's the tres simple short form.

At check-in, I wasn't asked The Questions -- luggage out of your control, packed your own bags, and so on. Also, even though the news agencies have made a big deal about how technology would be more closely scrutinized in the coming weeks due to Al Qaeda chatter, I brought my Powerbook, mobile phone, Bluetooth headset, iPod and digital camera through the screening with no more than a cursory glance.

I suppose I don't fit any terrorist profile, but wouldn't that kind of be the point? I want them to scrutinize me. I want them to look at everyone, not just people of Arabic descent. I made it as easy for the screeners as I could, and I suppose that made the difference. I just want to feel safe while flying, and I'm probably just making mountains out of molehills.

Marty and Tom are just now getting to D/FW Airport, and even though my journey started a day earlier, they'll get to Cancun a good four hours before I do. That said, I almost enjoy my travel plans. I got to hang out with Robert and his plucky girlfriend last night, and though it was an early night, we had a blast. He showed me photos from his Cancun trip a few years ago, and gave me some great advice -- clubs to hit first, out-of-the-way excursions, sunscreen. I miss hanging out with him since he moved to Houston, and now I know that I'll have to visit more often.

It's less than two hours until the flight, and there's a total of eight people in the terminal. I sincerely hope this is indicative of the flight.

Note for future reference -- no wireless network available at Bush International Airport. Dammit. No place to get a dial-up connection, either. The only thing available is the all-in-one term that rips you off for airtime, which means you wonderful readers won't see this until next Thursday. Sorry about that.

Part of the reason I wanted to take this vacation was to cut myself off from the Internet -- no e-mail, no Web surfing, no chatting, nothing. Marty is really hoping we'll have a connection in case there's some kind of work-related emergency. I'm really hoping there's not a connection of any kind. I already know my mobile phone won't work, since I don't want to pay for International Roaming. Cord successfully cut.

The iPod is the most indispensable piece of travel equipment I have. It keeps me from having to listen to banal conversations between old couples, screaming children, and the incessant droning message telling me that any inappropriate comments about security could land me in jail.

Going against all conventional wisdom, I checked my bag of clothing through to Cancun. The bag ended up being too big, and I didn't want to shoehorn it into the overhead bin. There's a three-hour layover, which should be more than enough time for my bag to move from Flight 503 to Flight 437. We'll see how smart I am when the time comes for me to get my bag in Cancun -- and whether or not it's actually there.

This damned coughing and sneezing had better be well gone by the time I hit the beach tomorrow morning.

Biding My Time

Phase One of my Evil Scheme© to get to Cancun is complete, and I got my birth certificate, which proves that I was indeed born and not hatched. The civil servant who got my stuff had a tongue ring, and I think she was flirting with me. Wonderous times we live in.

I'm in a Houston Kinko's now, waiting a storm out that has amazing thunder. It's one of the Kinko's that hasn't started charging for access to their network if you already have a laptop. This means I don't have to buy a day pass at Starbuck's, since I'm really broke right now.

Just in case you haven't heard me say it lately, I love Austin. Love it. As I'm driving in, there's a bumper sticker on a random car: "Bush is a Punk-Ass Bitch." SO love that town.

My flight out tomorrow is around noon. If there's time, I'll post one more thing before I go off the beacon entirely.

Marty is convinced that we'll have internet access in Cancun. I don't want to have internet access in Cancun -- only sand in various cracks and whatnot.

Not for the Faint at Heart: Ferra has branched out into Advice for the Lovelorn, or as she puts it, Ill-Advised Behavior. Em and Lo might have a bit of competition on their hands...