Pancakes.

Did you realize that the way you eat pancakes is a metaphor for life? Well, it is, so you do now. We shall get to that momentarily.

Carnaval. (Not spelled wrong). As most of you know, there is a festival that takes place in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil every year. It happens before Mardi Gras and Fat Tuesday. This same fiesta is celebrated here in Mexico and is most rejoiced in the city of Veracruz on the Gulf of Mexico. Before you get the wrong image, I want you to know that Veracruz is a thriving port city, it is not a main beach destination. That being said, there are beaches, but according to Philip, “the worst I have ever seen.” My extensive travels have brought me to less desirable ones, so I was the first one in my bathing suit and in the water.

Travel plans. First comment, no offense by the way, but never let a woman plan your trip. Second comment, and this has nothing to do with the fact that Isabel and her family read this, she did a great job. She really did. But there were complications that were out of our hands.

We left on Friday after work for what should normally have been a 5 hour bus ride. Isabel had kindly purchased the tickets in advance to guarantee our seats on a bus to this monstrous event. Seven hours and two crappy movies later we arrived in Veracruz at 2am. Tired, a bit cranky, and certainly exhausted we stepped off the bus into the humid paradise of a coastal town. Amen.

Spontaneity. Our time was nothing short of amazing. The key for the weekend was going with my housemates, Isabel and Philip. We had a great time. Traveling together is always a great bonding experience, not that we needed much more bonding.

We were suppose to meet her friends upon arrival. She told us they would pick us up at the bus station and we could stay with them for the weekend. No one was there and no one was answering their phones. Not good.

Eventually, after 3 dozen phone calls and a lot of waiting, we got in touch with them and chose a place to meet. We stood around downtown Veracruz while drunk Mexicans fell down all over the place. We waited, waited, and waited. At 4am and after several more calls, I suggested that we start calling hostels. Of course, we knew that all of them would be booked. And they were. So, we started calling the second tier hotels, then the third, and finally we found one room at one of the nicest hotels in the city. The only room left in the city.

Normally, I would just go back to the bus station, throw my pack in a locker, and sleep on a bench, but Philip wasn’t into that and I didn’t think it was super safe for Isa, so the plush life was ours even if only for a night. At 5am we checked in. And it was everything we thought it could be.

Day 2. We awoke early and had our included breakfast. Seeing that we each paid $55 for the room, we ate our faces off. It was a buffet and oh boy, what a buffet! We all used a fork and knife at some point but I didn’t look up long enough to observe anyone’s pancake eating style. After almost 2 hours of eating, undoing my pants at the table, and complaining about being so full, we moseyed down to the pool and sip on cold beer. Isabel played on the slide while Philip and I complained a bit more. We checked out at 1:30pm and met her “friends” who had left us in an unknown city, on a holiday weekend, with no where to stay. Apparently we could no longer stay in the guy’s house but two other dudes had reserved a cheap room that we could stay in.

Horray for parades. That afternoon the three of us wondered down the parade track with huge stands on both sides, went swimming in the ocean, and then had seafood for dinner. Afterwards, we joined tens of thousands of our closet friends and jumped and danced and watched the advertisements and floats. We met a nice, friendly bottle of tequila, and its owner, Ivan and his friends. Ivan was 30+ and happily married for 9 years.

After the parade, we hitched a ride on the back of a packed pick up truck, Mexican style. The cheering, jumping, and dancing didn’t stop in the truck. Nor did it stop when we got to the club.

Comfrotability. On Sunday we roused and found a diner. No, I am dead serious. This place was a diner. It looked like a diner, had that same comfortable feel, and the menu was the same (just in Spanish). All I could think about was pancakes and bacon. You know when you get that hankering for pancakes, syrup, and a cup of joe? I had that real bad. Real bad.

As I scarffed down the soft, delicious pancakes with “maple flavored” syrup, I got to thinking: why do I cut up all of my pancakes before eating any? I believe syrup pouring techniques, butter distribution, and cutting style say a lot about a person. For example, I cut all of my pancakes up then cover them in syrup. Some would say that the manner in which I eat pancakes portrays me as an anal person or overanxious. I think the latter is true, but that is not why I eat pancakes the way I do. It is comfortablity. See, I just made up a new word: comfortability. You know what I mean, working harder to be comfortable.

For me, having all of the pancakes cut up and ready for consumption facilitates the process. Pancakes are the type of thing you enjoy, but shove down your throat. Unlike steak which requires a careful and patient palate to sample the different and juicy flavors, every piece of pancake tastes the same, like sugar, fluff, and bread. So I make stuffing my face easier for myself. Cut it up before.

I think being comfortable is totally important. You are happier, stay in a better mood, and heck man, you feel good. Example, when you are lying in bed half conscious because you have to go to the bathroom but its too cold to get out and walk there. As a result, you toss and turn for the rest of the night until you go. It is much better, comfortable, and healthy when you decide to stop being stubborn and lazy, and get up. You don’t have to be wealthy or have an ipod to enjoy life, you enjoy it more when you are comfortable. Do you get up?

Lymphoma. It is a terrible disease. As many of you recall, when I ran the Houston Marathon in January 2004, I asked for donations to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Many of us have friends and relatives that have suffered from these diseases. On June 17th in Anchorage, Alaska, my good friend Kate Lehman is running the Mayor’s Midnight Marathon. She lost a friend and co-worker to leukemia and has dedicated her performance to him. I hope that you can find some spare cash and make a donation to this important society and help support Kate’s efforts: http://www.active.com/donate/tntepa/tntepaKLehman

Thank you very much. God bless.