I think San Felipe is Saint Philip in English, but all of my Spanish comes from the Taco Bell menu. so seriously, who knows

went to San Felipe this weekend. I’m just a little sunburned. that warm feeling you have after sitting in the sun for an afternoon? that’s it.
it’s like, what, two hours from here? on the Sea of Cortez; a town of 30 or 40 thousand. I was told it was going to be a spring break scene, but it’s definitely more of a local destination; like where middle-class Mexicans go on vacation.so. it was like the Jersey shore, only everything is in spanish and you can drink beer just about anywhere you want. which is an interesting novelty; it’s more interesting to think that the cops have plenty of shit to worry about other than public intoxication. there was a checkpoint in the desert about half hour outside of town. federal soldiers. sandbags, body armor, what looked like M-16s. you’re a long way from El Centro.

it’s pretty cheap, all in all. our room was $90 for an evening, which you’d think would be pretty expensive for Mexico. but it wasn’t, considering the location and the view. literally on the beach. balcony that overlooks the waterfront strip. that was a constant source of entertainment; kicking your feet up, turning up the television so you can hear the dub of “XXX: State of the Union.” watching people buy bootleg DVDs from six-year-olds wearing backpacks bigger than the rest of their bodies.

and now, the explanatory pictures.



“XXX: State of the Union” in spanish. I wasn’t kidding.

I probably could have slept all weekend, but I humored Gregory and went out to a couple of bars with him. I crashed out early from a club – the kind of place that I’ve only ever walked into in Mexico, for some reason – and left him. it’s not that I’m a bummer. I just don’t like clubs. bass-heavy music. usually full of beer and secondhand smoke, like last night. it doesn’t exactly make you feel well. either way, it was only three blocks away, and he was dancing with some girl. I went home, sat on the balcony and watched the locals cruise, flushed the beer out of my system with a huge bottle of water and crashed out.
I woke up for half a second two hours later. the roommate was in the next bed over getting a blow job from what I was later told was a slightly overweight single mother of two from Fresno.
wow. stay classy.
all in all, despite having listened to drunken, shortlived and sloppy sex on the other side of the room before I shut it out and fell asleep, I’d recommend a Baja beach town to anyone in the area. it’s like California without personal safety rules (no seatbelts or crash helmets required). or like the Jersey shore. just in spanish, with lots of beer.

I was told by the Fort Wayne paper that I should arrange to come in for a test and interview next time I’m in the Fort Wayne area. I’ve never been to Fort Wayne, but I’d imagine The Fort Wayne Area can’t be that far from Valparaiso. so next time.
I also saw that the Post-Tribune reposted a vacancy for a page designer. I thought that was pretty stone cold, and was about to send an anonymous, threatening e-mail to show my discontent, but decided against it. I read the new advertisement, and the contact info is for another managing editor. so I applied again, thinking halfway I might be lucky and halfway out of spite.
I heard back. I’m supposed to call out there tomorrow.
well, god damn.

1 comment so far

  1. Ashley on

    That was the best title ever.

    I’m jealous of you and your traveling…I need to break free soon to another country before I go insane!


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