Hoy es el 21 de Abril.  Saldré en una semana.  Que loco!  I'm sitting in the corner of a restaurant, looking out over the Malecon and the turquoise water.  I forgot to buy water last night, and I had little food in the house, so breakfast in town was the only logical solution.  I wish these guys would clean the jelly out of the little cup before they cram it full of butter.  Asi es.  The guys across the street are hanging up "magical little shirts" for sale.  That's what the sign says.

I've come to a conclusion of sorts, and I don't know how it's going to affect my life back in the states.  I'm trying to figure out why I haven't just worn white cotton tshirts every day before I moved down here.  I'm certainly going to after I move back.  Cheap.  Easy.  Comfortable.  The only problem is my deodorant stains the pits like a CHAMPION. 

"Isn't that the same thing you wore yesterday?"

"Yes.  Well, kinda."

My buddy Jose has supposedly been trying to sell the little orange VW so he can pay me back at least a majority (mayoria) of the money he owes me.  I think, when you try to sell a car here in Mexico, you do the following:

1. Claim that there is a guy in a somewhat distant town that wants to come to my house to discuss the car.
2. "Arrange" for the meeting at 1 pm, then push it to 2pm, then 3pm, then 4pm, then 5pm, then he never shows up.
3. Instead of stopping at my house to discuss this situation, blow past it with 7-8 people in the car to go buy more beer in Chixchulub.

I think I'm going to give him until Saturday to sell it.  If he can't, I understand.  My feeling is that he thinks if he dances around for the next several days, I'll just get frustrated, leave on my plane for San Diego, and never see him again.  Instead, I'm going to go get him Saturday morning and make him drive the car to Telchac (stopping to fill the gas tank on the way).  I have made friends with a poor couple that works in a hotel there - the same place I check my email sometimes.  They are very sweet, don't have a car, and have never asked me for anything - only chatted with me in Spanish for as long as I liked on the way in and out the door of the hotel.  I'm going to make Jose sign it over to them at the hotel, and then tell him a ride back to his house in my truck will cost 6500 pesos...which just happens to be the amount of money he didn't pay me back.  I think this is the superior solution to my other idea - make him drive with me out to the middle of nowhere, force him to watch me torch the car and dance around it laughing, and make him walk home from there. 

Before I go, Gerald wants to load up the jeep and head over to a ruin a couple hours east of here.  Supposedly, there is a cenote there that can be accessed by a zipline.  If that is true, I can't wait.  I wanted to see the 3 Kings cenotes as well before I left, but I think those will have to wait for the next time I visit the Yucatan.  I tried to get my goofball brothers to go with me when they were here, but we went with the take-it-easy approach to vacationing in Mexico.  Speaking of: I was going through some of the pictures from that trip, below are a few more.  Credit to Wiley and/or his awesome camera and lens.