Okay, I'm exaggerating a little. Well, more like a lot. But that's what went though my head when I first laid eyes on the sleek, black scorpion in the garage last night. I had never seen one before, except in pictures, and seeing one in real life, even if it was from a prudently safe distance, was enough to induce an immediate fear reaction and conjure up images of H. R. Giger. That thing was creepy.

I get a kick out of buying eggs. It's a small and trivial thing, I know, but it's one of the things that makes me feel like I have discovered some of the marvelous secrets about living here. Not only is it indicative of how so many of the small things here are different, but it also makes me feel closer to my food and my little community.

I love empanadas. I have since I was a young girl and my mother used to make them for me. The fact that empanadas take on an almost entirely different form here in Mazatlan does nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for them.

Today is my beloved's birthday. He is not really into celebration. In fact, he has a list of clients and tasks and plans to work today just like any other day. Which is a little strange, because his family is very into birthdays and still insists on sending us gifts even though we are adults and live way down here in Mexico, which makes both of us feel loved and missed.

Over the past couple of years, I have refrained from opening a Mexican bank account for several reasons. One of which is that every time I have gone into a local bank, the size of the crowd and the length of the lines made me think that they must be giving away large bags of money. Needless to say, the massive presence of the banking public dampened my enthusiasm for establishing a financial footprint in Mazatlan.