Ceviche & Currency Exchange

My brother has sent me several urgent e-mails proclaiming the following:

  1. We will be at the airport approximately 30 minutes early for your flight.
  2. We are having fish and shrimp tacos with ceviche around 5ish.
  3. DO NOT change your American currency at the airport. You will not get a good rate.

Pretty exciting, no? I’ve never had ceviche. I’ve had lots of sashimi though, which is ceviche’s Asian cousin. Sidebar-I’m not a fan of the scallop.

I’m leaving work right at 5 p.m. to pick up Abby and take her to Ern’s in Btown. I plan on covering the backseat of the Goose with all sorts of sheets. Actually, I may make Abby ride in the trunk. Awww! Poor girl. šŸ˜¦ It’s just that the Goose is one of the few places in my life that’s not covered in fur. Fortunately, Abby is worth every furry tumbleweed.

After I drop Abby off, I’m rushing home to watch Lost with Lean. Then I have to pack and study my navel until 4 a.m., when I have to leave for the airport. Ern told me it costs $8.50/day to park your hoopty at the airport, so I may ask Lean to take me. I know it would be annoying though, because I leave really early and return really late. Good way to alienate my friends.

Speaking of, B called last night. I could tell he felt bad, and he totally should. I didn’t say much, because I didn’t have my thoughts together, but we’re still going to have a little chat about this stuff.

In case you didn’t know, I use ProactivĀ®. Jessica Simpson suggested it and it’s worked really well for me! šŸ˜‰ So last weekend, Lean was all, “Oh [Mymsie], your skin is so great! I dunno why you use Proactiv!” And guess what happened? An evil, hideous pimple emerged from my chin. It looks like I have a pointy red beard. I know it’s going to impress a lot of boys in Mexico. Damn that Lean!!

I probably won’t have Internet access while I’m gone, so I may actually have to write, like, on paper ‘n’ stuff. I know! It’s *SO* 1993! But I’ll have lots to tell when I return. In fact I have lots to tell now, but not that much time.

BTW, I cannot tell you how many people, upon learning about my trip to Mexico, have said, “Don’t drink the water!” It’s one of those ridiculous platitudes people at work say. Sort of like, “The weekend was too short” or “It’s almost 5 p.m.!” For the record, I will be very carefulĀ to not drinkĀ water or anything with ice in it. And I won’t swallow when I brush my teeth. (Heh heh. “Brush my teeth” sounds like a dirty euphemism in that sentence.) Lean is a fluent Spanish speaker so I asked her how to say diarrhea in Spanish. Guess what? It’s diarrhea! WOOT! That’s easy to remember. Let’s hope I don’t end up the Imodium poster child.

Farewell until I blog again!

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