meta - phorical / amphetamine

Stream of good chemicals, coursing through my veins, tickling my nerves.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Two weeks ago the following happened...

Synchronous in thought. Synchronous in action.

Distance between each-other equivalent. Distance in mindset non-existent.

Speed limit increased. Valves openly respond.

Consumption up, oxygen short.

Its almost 8PM, I'm sitting here in the car after a hard gym session, waiting for Mandy and Gareth to finish their sets. Dodging the weird glances from the leaving ignorants.

What's the difference between jotting down thoughts in paper vs sitting in the car with the laptop in front of you. Maybe the weird stares are based off my ability to type in the dark.

The gymming fraternity is a whacky lot. Some people are so obsessed with their appearance they could be classed in the same category as anorexics. Its a sickness. Some stare for ages at their bodies in the mirror. Frankly, I don't understand what women see in men who are overly huge from working out so much. Even ape-like. They even LOOK stupid. I wonder how many of them could jog a mile?

But thats me, being judgemental again.

Got word we're going on holiday soon. Life is good.

Then today, 9PM EDT (or is that EST?) on a week ago.

Work has been terrible. I've been battling to concentrate, even trying to organise tasks into priorities results in procrastination. I was at my wit's end when I was verbally reprimanded for my lack of performance by one of the big boys. This just got me more upset, especially when I found out how my performance was being evaluated. A few frantic phonecalls to the captain back home and I was on a new course, Destination: Relaxation, only I had to get out of the rough seas first.

I've been escaping into my gaming, playing lots of Warcarft III, and being totally mindless. Watching TV is bad, especially all the crap they play on the hundreds of TV channels here. Its so addictive, I suck on a beer, chow on my oily crisps and feel my mind dribble out my nose. At least I'm still drinking Heineken and not sagging to low standards such as Bud.

The social scene is non-existent, except chilling with Mandy and Gareth. Did lots of day-walking last weekend around some beautiful reservations in Boston. One within walking distance of our hotel.

Also today, 9:15PM ED/ST (bleh: +5 GMT) on this weekend.

Beunos Noches Mis Amigos! (Hope my spelling is right)

Work had an end in sight, and after being told off I had new direction and a goal to work towards. It goes a little something like this...

On Thursday, Cake performed at the Orpheum theatre in downtown Boston. These guys are amazing. The whole way thru the concert I thought of Dudditts and Mc and how a joint would really go down well. Cake are as good, if not better performing live. They played classic singles such as "Comfort Eagle", "Rock & Roll Lifestyle" and "Never There". Some of the new stuff was good too, most notably: "No Phone". I left with a smile on my face knowing I had fulfilled a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, a theme for the week.

Friday night, we got home early-ish to pack. The company, in all its evil glory, had allowed us 4 days of vacationing in the destination of our choice under $500. So we chose a package deal to Cancun, Mexico.

Early Saturday morning, Mandy and I met up with Gareth in Cambridge and caught a lift into the airport for a sunrise flight to the land of short smiling people. The flights were OK, got to see "The Terminal" finally, which I enjoyed. When we touched down in Cancun, I was grinning from ear-to-ear, here I was, in a totally alien place, faced with a foreign languange and a huge foo-fighting itenerary.

We picked up our rental car after queueing for hours in typical third-world-and-kinda-welcoming fashion, glistening with sweat from the humidity.

The drive into Cancun was effortless, especially with Gareth (our intrepid interpretor and been-there-done-that kinda guy) at the helm. Meh-Hee-Co, as pronounced by the locals, is like South Africa, with Botswana flavour, short jolly people and massive american cars. It felt like home.

Our hotel was exactly what I expected, mass populace, low on maintenance and always looked better in the brochure. That didn't get in the way with bumming on the beach or driving the Yucatan flat.

Our first full day we survived the drive to Tulum to see the seaside ruins left by the Toltecs and Mayans. (Well, technically the Spanish Conquistadors left what was left-over. Pigs.) The contrast between age-old stone, white beach, green palms and azure seas is a spectacle everyone should see before they die. On the way back, we stopped off in Peurto Morales to catch some snorkelling and local flavours. Picture it: dining in a cheesy Mexican, beach-fronting restaurant, sipping on cervezas and even catching a song or two from the local talent. I finally felt like I was relaxing. After wrapping up a mildly mannered meal, we were off to test the theory that one should never swim after lunch. We were in for some luck.

$20 later, we found a boatsman, Jose (fancy that!), gear and that exciting feeling in your stomach. After testing out the equipment, we were on our way towards the reef. Donning the flippers and mask, and diving into the water, I was bitterly disappointed. Frikkin sea grass or some macro algae as far as the underwater eye could see. :(

(Un)Fortunately we all had to wear life-vests and follow the boatsman-cum-diving-guide on a tour of the waters. My disappointment quickly subsided (like I would've if it wasn't for the lifevest) when I first caught sight of a huge stack of brain coral, in very good nick. Infused over its own patterns were shimmering patterns of schooling fish, beautiful! Lone stacks of coral led to complex condos of piscine splendour. Parrotfish, Grey Angelfish, Trumpetfish, Boxfish, Neon Gobies, jeepers. If I could let my jaw drop I would, but it was too busy keeping the snorkel in place.

After an hour floating in the cool waters, abusing a poor starfish, and watching Gareth crap himself underwater from a Moray Eel, it was time to get back to the boat. At this stage I had a headache from the pressure of diving too deep after our tour guide gave us the go ahead to ditch the life-vests.

Day two was an early start, for Chichen Itza. After two hours of driving the poor Nissan Tsuru flat out on the road thru the jungle, we arrived at Chichen Itza with new found legs and a zest to see what the fuss was all about. Trees gave way to a huge grassy lawn and one towering temple in the form of El Castillo, a stone and earth calendar as old as mayan recorded time. Toltecs had built over most of the Mayan temples, shrines to the shedding of human blood. Grim, yes. Mysterious, absolutely.

I particularly enjoyed the Steam Rooms and the Observatory, followed by the view from the top of El Castillo and the endless columns. The heavens opened in sheer tropical fashion just as we were making our way back to the car, good timing from the rain-god: Chac Mool. I bought a fantastic medallion depiction of Quetzalcoatl, the man himself, for the bargain price of 200 Pesos.

The route back was uneventful besides some wild driving antics a-la-Gareth and stopping for a few snaps of the cloudy skies, jungle and road. The extended metaphor that is my life. We chilled like we did all the previous days, walking on the beach, sipping beers and watching the hours tick by. That evening after a better than average meal and one too many glasses of wine, Mandy and I dipped our toes in the night-time Atlantic and caught up on some heart-to-heart stuff. One particular wave carried in a luminescent creature the size of a small bead, a dazzling blue, as if the day time sea colour was thousands of these little living gems.

Day three, Mandy and Gareth got up early to catch the sunrise while I prayed to the slumber gods. After packing up, we were abusing our little Nissan again to catch the midday flight in time. Getting back into the US was particularly painful. Customs were their typical anal selves. I kept asking myself: Why do I feel like a criminal? Thoughts of wanting to flee gave way to feelings of familiarity, home almost.

Also today, 10:15PM

Its now my little brother's Birthday. Best wishes Mike, for your 23rd Birthday. I hope to spend more with you in the future.

This weekend we're cruising up to Vermont, to catch the autumn / fall in all its fiery glory. I just hope I don't have too much work to do.

So long for now people. Remember, this is a two way-street. I'll post photos some other time.

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