Mission 50 Cervesas a critical failure

This is a picture I took in my first night in Mexico.  Because I was laying down on a bench.  Because I was drunk.  And this palm tree was all I could see from my perspective at the time.

Prior to my trip to Mexico, I had declared to myself that I wanted to kill 50 cervesas down in Mexico.  I wanted to drink Dos Equises, Coronas, Sols, Modelos, and whatever other Mexican beers were considered local, as opposed to the Bud/Miller/Coors swill readily available in the States.  I had this ambition that I would mark all my beers as I conquered them one by one, and would have a nice album of photographs documenting my douchey conquest.

Well, that didn’t happen.  I probably had like 6-7 beers throughout the entire trip, and aside from the cans of Dos Equis, I actually have no clue to what kind it was based on the fact that they came out of a tap at one of the random bars, with no discernible handles on it.  Not to mention just about every drink served was presented in reusable plastic or glass cups, and I was pretty sure there would be a hearty objection if I were tagging the resorts’ kitchenware with numbers.

But that’s not to say I didn’t do much drinking; quite the contrary, I drank myself to oblivion on at least two occasions that I can actually remember.  I can’t necessarily say I’m proud of such indulgence, but seeing as how I have occasional douchebag tendencies like glorifying my alcohol consumption, here we stand.

Part of staying at an all-inclusive resort meant that even the booze was included in the stay.  With bars located pretty much everywhere in sight, but most importantly the pool and the beach, it was never a reach to get something to drink.  Part of staying in Mexico meant that the climate is scientifically measurable as “balls-sticking-to-you-hot-and-humid.”  With that in mind, I’ve done pounding beers in the hot sun in my life as a baseball fan.  I sought out something different.

So instead of getting hammered on beers, I ended up getting hammered on a litany of tropical frozen and fruity drinks, all of which contained varying amounts of rum, tequila, vodka, or all of the above.  And Bloody Marys, lots and lots of Bloody Marys.  Typically, I stay away from hard shit because liquor can fuck me up, but being an all-inclusive resort, the pours are a little on the lighter side; however, even light pours add up to some drunken stupor after about 15 drinks in the pool.  I have a bruise on my hip from an embarrassing spill to attest to that, admittedly.

I didn’t do 50 cervesas in a week like I had originally wanted, but in the end, it’s safe to say that I did however do well over 50 alcoholic beverages entirely.  Not necessarily something to really be bragging about, but what the hell, it was all for the sake of pursuing a good time.

Dormant too long, perhaps

To be perfectly honest, I thought I’d have a lot of things I’d want to write about when I got back from my consecutive vacations.  Perhaps it’s because I’ve been fairly creatively stagnant over the last two weeks, in favor of eating a ton of food, not working, drinking a lot of booze, not working out, and being a lazy vacationer, my brain feels a little mushy, in whatever part that written word comes from.

But as has been the case in the past, if I go too long without at least making an attempt to write, these thoughts and potential words ultimately vanish, and believe me I would prefer that such did not occur.  And as is often preached in any sort of writing workshops or exercises, sometimes simply just writing for the sake of writing can stimulate the brain to where something more substantial is ignited.

I’ve been circulating in my head thoughts of Mexico recently; it was without a question a pretty good trip on many accounts, and I don’t have any regrets about going.  But truthfully, there’s not a whole lot beyond a few concrete thoughts that I’ll ultimately make their own dedicated posts about, to really write about.  The vast majority of my time down in Mexico was spent either in the swimming pool next to my villa, lounging somewhere on the beach, or in a restaurant stuffing my face.  Alcohol was consumed at all of those locations.  Needless to say, as good of a time I had down in Mexico, I really didn’t do that much.

So for all intents and purposes, this post will likely be a lot of drivel.  Writing down blurbs and observations, but probably not going to have a whole lot of general direction.  I actually did jot down a lot of little things in my phone or iPad that I thought might be worth writing about, so we’ll see how this turns out.  Admittedly, my brain feels a little tired, and I can’t for the life of me really fathom how to really turn these little notes into anything substantially interesting to write about.

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Back from Mexico

After seven days of swimming pools, beaches, sweating through every single shirt I brought, and a whole lot of eating and drinking, I’ve come home from Mexico sunburned, fatter, and somewhat relaxed.

Which bodes well, considering the veritable self-inflicted shit storm of tasks and assignments I’ll likely heap upon myself over the next few days and weeks, which includes numerous things to write for my own brog, baseball-related crap, and other outlets, and the hundreds of photos between Disney and Mexico that I’ll gradually be chipping through and attempting to get up sooner rather than later.

But the tequila in Mexico was cheap, as well as this awesome Psychosis luchador mask to add to my collection of lucha libre masks.  Overall, I cannot complain about much, and within coming days and weeks, I’ll likely have a lot of stories and things to write about it.

Impending brog hiatus

Because I’m gangsta like this.

For about the next week, and possibly some remnant days afterwards, there will not be any updates to my brog, as I will not be in the United States.  There is a high probability that I could be in a state of inebriation at the time in which anyone is reading this, but the point remains, there will not be any new posts or updates for a good chunk of upcoming days.

Afterward, on the other hand, will be a different story.  As I have about 160+ photographs taken from while I was in Disney World, indulging at the Epcot International Food and Wine Festival from this past weekend, and whatever photos, words and bullshit that comes from this upcoming week in Mexico, I foresee a massive backlog of potential brog content that will eventually make its way online eventually.

As far as my trip to Mexico is concerned, I’m admittedly a little nervous about it as a whole.  As hard as it may be for some to believe, considering my somewhat reputation of a continental jet-setter, I’ve never really actually left the country before.  Sure there’ve been multiple trips to Canada throughout my life, but Canada doesn’t really count.  But for all intents and purposes, I’d never been to a country where English isn’t the predominant language, like it is in Mexico.  And although I’m meeting up with a group, this is still mostly a trip of my own endeavor; considering I really only know one or two people I’m rendezvousing with, it’s safe to say that I’ll mostly be well out of my comfort zone.

But whatever, nerves or not, this is a real vacation, and I intend on making an earnest attempt to enjoy it to its fullest.  There was no real sleeping in and as much legitimate relaxation in Florida as I expect to have in Mexico, due to schedules and park hours.  My agenda in Mexico is relatively empty, and I’m hoping to indulge in many hours of mostly nothingness; maybe reading some books/tablet while lounging on the beach, take some shitty photography, maybe write if the feeling hits, but mostly do a lot of sleeping in, drinking, eating, drinking, relaxing, eating and drinking.

Stay thirsty, my friends, and I’ll be back to posting in about a week.

One of those weighing-the-options moments

So I was sitting on a rocking horsey at a party recently, sipping on a Miller High Life.  I can’t say this line of thinking was a result of the aforementioned scenario, because I do know it’s been on my mind for a little while now.  I was people watching, and thinking about just how fascinating some people really can be, but also thinking that I don’t know any of these people.  How would I get to know these people?

Obviously, I’m not exactly the most socially graceful person on the planet, and I lack the charisma to be able to inject myself into others’ conversations and interactions without being completely paranoid that I’m coming off as a creep-o or feeling unwelcome.  So most of the times, I don’t make an effort at all, and probably give off the impression that I’m anti-social or ambivalent to others.

To get to the point, lately I’m feeling like my line of work is kind of socially inhibiting.  I look around at the people I know, and so many of them work for cool places, or at least, places where they can potentially meet like-minded people, relatable people, and people who might have even the potential to be cool and worth knowing aside from an at-work relationship.

Me on the other hand, I work for the state, I’m 30 years old and still the youngest person in the office.  Since I’ve been at my office for approaching two years, I’ve witnessed five individuals cash in their lucrative, state-earned retirement plans and actually retired.  There are two people who have had old-people surgeries and limp around the office regularly, one person who retired due to failing old person health conditions, and two people who limp around on rehabilitation boots.  Putting all this into text, I could give the impression that I work in a senior citizens’ home as opposed to a state office.

Needless to say, there is nobody at my office remotely close to being more than at-work chums with.  My closest co-workers are all late-30s+, parents, and have little concerns in their lives other than the well-being of their families.  And I can understand that.  But for someone at my aging age, personality, and social standing, I sometimes feel that I work at a pretty lame place.

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