Sometimes I get just a little more than I can handle. My frustration level is unbearably high, and I rail and curse uselessly. When we got our electric bill and then an idiot broke our window, I had one of those moments when I wondered why I moved. If those things happened to me back in the US, I would be able to deal with them in my native language in a culture where I understand all of the rules. Sometimes things seem just do daunting here. But whenever I am slipping in to good old-fashioned mean, Mazatlan finds a way to make it up to me.






