Lovelorn and itchy

As luck would have it, I mentioned to Luis the sauciness going on between his maid and I, and it turns out that today is her last day working for them. Unbeknown to her, of course, which is pretty sad. It turns out that the mother here isn't satisfied with the work she's doing. I can't imagine it's anything that bad because the poor girl is constantly cleaning. It seems like she's waiting around the corner for you to finish using a dish, because as soon as you set it down she leaps from hiding to clean it like it's the plague. I try and be polite and clean up after myself since I'm not a member of the family and she shouldn't have to wait on me, but if I leave the room for a second, everything is sparkling upon return and she's nowhere to be found. From what I was told, there was a dead fly on the floor and the mother noticed it was there for two days. Also, marks are beginning to appear on the surface of her marble and stainless-steel stove top from cleaning, and that's just not acceptable. In any case, she's cleaned her final dish and as of tomorrow a new girl shall resume her footsteps. The flames of passion were smothered before they could rage.

One flame that seems to remain ignited is the flame of hunger of Mexico's mosquitoes. Really, I am just plain flabbergasted by the sheer volume of mosquitoes here. I admit, I'm not an expert of mosquito habitat and behavior, but I thought that they flourished most in places where moisture is abundant. There's no f-ing water here, so I don't know what the hell is going on.

The worst part, by far, is that they're small. Very small. In Minnesota, they're large and if they bite you you can feel it. Not here. The sons o' bitches are masters in the art of ninjitsu, biting the shit out of you and moving right along before you ever knew they were there. Which makes the bites itch more, too, because since you don't know they're there, they take their sweet time to feast on your flesh to their little hearts' content. My feet in particular, since I tend to wear flip-flops here due to the scorching heat, look like the hosts of miniature mountain ranges.

Man, I had the most amazing hot dog last night. "Oh, how interesting, he ate a hot dog." Well let me finish, for God's sake. There was some neighborhood party last night and they rented a hot dog stand. Hot dog stands are everywhere, but I'm an American and hot dogs just don't impress me, so I never thought to get one. Well, I was hungry because I was told there'd be food there and thus didn't eat, so a hot dog it was.

Get this -- a hot dog, wrapped in bacon. Okay? They first lather a sesame seed hot dog bun with refried beans†. Then in goes the dog 'n bacon. Onions, little diced tomatoes, salsa verde, fives kinds of sauce ( one was mayonnaise, one was processed cheese sauce ( think Taco Bell cheese -- equally raunchy but even more delicious ) and the other three I couldn't even venture to guess, but they were good ), bacon bits, and crushed-up potato chips. Oh, and an extra chin. I'm pretty sure a health nut would have a coronary by just looking at one, but I totally ate two. Of course, since I was going to do more than sit around the house last night, I forgot to bring my camera. As usual. I bring it with me to go to the grocery store, you know, just in case, but when I really need it to take a picture of the Mount Olympus of hot dogs††, I forget it. Next time.

†You haven't eaten refried beans until you've eaten them here, so don't even try to tell me they're nasty.

††I asked, and it wasn't just this particular hot dog stand that makes hot dogs this way. It's all of 'em. That's right.